Second Chance Pass (Virgin River #5)(17)

The men shook hands, but there was obvious and instant reticence in the postures of both—Carol wasn’t fooling either one of them. Vanni took it upon herself to drag a chair across the room so that Paul could join them, catching her mother-in-law’s frown out of the corner of her eye. And when they were all called to dinner, Carol seated them according to her plan—she and Lance occupied the heads of the table, Paul sat beside Walt, Vanni beside Cameron. And that’s how they remained.

Another of Carol’s talents was to grease the conversation and she got people talking quickly so that there was no tension at her table. She might as well have had a notebook beside her with specific questions and topics for each person at her table, so that each one had his turn to talk. She did drop into the conversation several times that Paul was Matt’s best man, Paul and Vanessa had been friends for years, Paul worked construction and oh, yes, Cameron was a doctor.

One topic Carol couldn’t control was Virgin River, and at her table were three people who loved it there and extolled all its virtues—from redwoods, mountains, valleys and rivers, to the little bar and grill run by Jack and frequented by friends and neighbors, reuniting Marines, playing host to hunters and fishermen.

After dessert and coffee, Paul was the first to leave, which Vanni thought must thrill Carol. But that was all right, because Vanni walked him outside. They hugged. “I don’t think of you as a brother,” she said.

He laughed. “And I don’t think of you as a sister.”

“I wish she hadn’t done that.”

“Carol does as she pleases. She always has. We understand that,” Paul said.

“I wanted to spend more time with you. How are you, really?”

“I’m doing okay. And you? Really? How are you doing with missing him?”

“I’ll always miss him. I miss him as much as you do, Paul.”

“Yeah,” he said, hanging his head for a moment. “Can’t really help that, can we?”

“But I don’t cry about him so much anymore. Matt wouldn’t want that—and he said so—he made me promise. Plus, Mattie takes a lot of energy, and gives me so much joy. I’m riding again—which is a wonderful diversion. Come down, Paul. For a weekend. Soon. Ride with me…play with the baby.”

Carol stuck her head out the front door. “Vanessa? I think I hear the baby.”

Vanni took a breath. “Well, Carol, you can pick him up if he’s crying. Or you can tell my dad—he knows what to do.”

“Oh,” Carol said. “Sure. But you’ll be in soon?”

“Soon,” Vanni said, an irritated edge to her voice.

The door softly closed and Paul chuckled.

“God,” Vanni said, rubbing her temples with her fingertips. “That woman…”

“It’s just Carol. No one takes her seriously.”

“To their peril,” Vanni said. Then she looked up at Paul. “Please—come to Virgin River soon. We all miss you. Especially me.”

“Yeah, I should do that. So—what do you think of that guy? At least she found you a doctor.”

She laughed. “She should get credit for that, huh?” She shrugged. “He seems pretty nice—and it’s not his fault he got fixed up with someone who isn’t interested.”

“You’ll be ready one of these days.”

I’m ready now, she wanted to say.

He kissed her forehead. “I’ll give you a call. We’ll set something up—get together soon.”

“Please,” she said, very conscious of the fact that she had been the one calling him since the baby’s birth. And then she watched him go. So, I may not think of him as a brother, but he still thinks of me as his best friend’s wife. She feared that might never change.

Tommy and Brenda had gone to a lot of trouble to arrange a whole night alone at the Booth house while the general and Vanni were both away in Grants Pass, but all that preplanning backfired. Brenda was edgy. Maybe scared. Not ready for it. Tom could tell after fifteen minutes that this wasn’t going the way he thought it would. The way she had said she wanted it to.

So, he throttled back. “Relax,” he said. “We’ll just watch a movie. We don’t have to do anything.”

“You’ll be disappointed,” Brenda said.

“No, I won’t,” he lied. “I told you a hundred times—we’re not going all the way until you’re ready. We’ll just watch a movie and curl up. We’ll sleep in our clothes. I’m not going to push you.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what makes me like this. I thought I’d made up my mind.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Bren. Not to me. I like that you’re giving it a lot of thought. I want you to be sure, because afterward, you have to be happy about it, not all screwed up and guilty. There’s no other way it can be, not for us. Since we’re in for the night—should we pilfer a couple of the general’s beers and put on a movie?”

“Yeah,” she laughed.

“You pick the movie, I’ll pick the beer.”

Of course it had to be a chick flick; a real groaner at that. But what the hell, if it made Brenda happy, it made him happy. Halfway through the movie and the beer, the kissing started and he thought, God bless chick flicks. They might be boring, but they sure did warm up the girls.