Cupid's Christmas (Serendipity #3)(17)

“I’m not hungry.”

“You ought to eat a hearty breakfast, since you’ll be skipping lunch.”

“And, exactly why will I be skipping lunch?” A crust of bitterness curled the edge of Lindsay’s words.

“I’ve got tickets for you and your Dad to go to the Phillies game,” Eleanor answered. “It will be close to dinnertime when you get back. So I figured we could have dinner about—”

“Dad and me? Just the two of us?”

“Uh-huh,” Eleanor nodded, “I’ve got a garden club meeting today.”

Lindsay walked across the kitchen and pulled a plate from the cupboard. “Maybe I had better eat something,” she said. Although far from friendly, her words no longer had those razor-sharp barbs poking at the air.

She ate five pancakes and three sausages then hurried upstairs to get dressed.

Eleanor picked up the empty plate and turned to the sink with a self-satisfied smile.





Cupid…Limping toward Labor Day



Lindsay is already cooking up schemes to end her father’s relationship. You know it, I know it, and apparently so does Eleanor. Although the air conditioner in Eleanor’s car has been broken for well over a month, she drove to Philadelphia on an afternoon with record heat to get those tickets. Instead of telling John how persnickety the girl has been acting, she smiled and waved goodbye as they pulled out of the driveway. Eleanor is bending over backward trying to make friends with Lindsay, but Lindsay is having no part of it. As far as she’s concerned, Eleanor is just trying to squeeze herself into the shoes Bethany wore.

I’ve looked at the future and things do not look good for Eleanor and John, which saddens me. But bear in mind, the future I see is based on things as they now stand. If something in the present changes it can change the future. That said, there’s only so much I can do. If I had the power Life Management has…well then, we’d be talking about another story.





The car had barely turned the corner when Lindsay looked across at her father and said, “I’m glad it’s just the two of us.”

“It is nice,” John answered. He reached across and gave her knee an affectionate pat.

They rode in silence for a few moments then Lindsay said, “I’m glad she didn’t come.”

“You mean Eleanor?”

Lindsay nodded.

“Eleanor was the one who suggested we go together. She even drove down to the stadium to pick up the tickets.”

Lindsay’s smile quickly turned to a scowl. “Does everything have to be about her?”

“You’re the one who brought it up.”

“Well I feel like she’s taking over our lives. Every word out of your mouth is about Eleanor. It’s Eleanor this, Eleanor that…why don’t you ever talk about Mom?”

“What can I say about your mom that I haven’t said a thousand times before?”

“So now what…you’re gonna forget about Mom? You’re gonna let this Eleanor person take Mom’s place, is that it?”

The muscle in John’s jaw hardened, “No that’s not it,” he said, “No one will ever take your mother’s place and Eleanor isn’t trying to—”

“Yes she is. You’re just too blind to see.”

“Listen to me Lindsay,” he said sharply, “Eleanor isn’t taking your mother’s place, but she is filling a spot in my life that was empty for over nine years. Nine years, Lindsay! Nine long miserable years!”

Lindsay opened her mouth to speak but no words came out.

“If heartache and tears could bring your mother back she’d be with us right now, because God knows I shed enough tears over her. I can’t change the past Lindsay, but I can do something about the future.”

“Yeah, your future,” Lindsay said.

“No, not just my future—our future. Eleanor’s going to be part of our family and if you give her half a chance—”

“That woman is not part of my family. To me she’s a stranger. Somebody I know nothing about. For all I know she could be an ax murderer or—”

“Eleanor and I have known each other since high school, in fact she knew your mom.”

“Oh, and then a few decades later she just crawls out of the woodwork looking to get married? How convenient.”

“Eleanor was married to someone for almost twenty years. He died of colon cancer.”

Lindsay could think of no comeback for that, so they rode in silence for the next five minutes. When they pulled into the stadium parking lot John switched off the ignition and turned to his daughter, “Why do you dislike Eleanor so much? She’s never done anything or said anything—”

“It’s always about her…it’s like you just forgot Mom…” Lindsay’s lip quivered and tears began rolling down her cheeks. “You care more for a stranger than you do…” She wanted to say me, but the word never came because it was held back by a sob.

John moved across the seat and pulled her into his arms. “Sweetheart,” he said, “no one is ever going to replace your mom. She was somebody very special—”

“If Eleanor isn’t replacing Mom, then why is she always at our house?”