Page 61 of The Playboy and the Widow
“Diana?”
“It’s right here. Just hold on a minute.”
“Listen, I know this is soon and everything...”
“It’s blue—the same color as your eyes.” When she’d first seen the T-shirt, her heart had almost broken, she’d missed him so much.
Cliff buried his hands in his pockets. This wasn’t exactly how he planned to do this, but he’d done a lot of thinking while Diana had been away and seeing her again proved everything he thought to question. “Diana...”
“It’s here. I know it is.” She paused and twisted around. “I may have tucked it in Joan’s suitcase.” Determined to find it, she hurried into her daughter’s bedroom, paused and whirled around. “I’m sorry, Cliff, what were you saying?”
“Nothing.” He felt like a fool.
“Okay.” Diana went back and started rooting through the suitcase. The shirt was perfect for Cliff, and she was eager to give it to him.
“Actually, I had some time to mull over our relationship while you were away, and I was thinking that maybe we should get married.”
At last Diana found the shirt, lifted it out and turned to face him, her eyes wide with triumph. The excitement drained from her as quickly as water through a sieve.
“What was it you just said?”
Twelve
“Mom, what do you think?” Joan paraded in front of her mother as though the eleven-year-old were part of a Las Vegas floor show. She wiggled her girlish hips and demurely tucked her chin over her shoulder while placing her hands on bended knee. “Well?”
Diana successfully squelched a smile. “You look at least fifteen, if not older.”
Joan positively glowed with the praise.
“How come we have to wear a dress?” Katie grumbled, following her sister into the living room. Diana’s younger daughter wasn’t the least bit thrilled at the prospect of a dinner date with Cliff if she had to wear her Sunday clothes. “How come Cliff can’t just bring over KFC? I like that best.”
“Hey, dog breath, I want to eat in the Space Needle,” Joan blasted her.
In a huff, Katie crossed her arms and glared defiantly at her sister. “I think it’s silly.”
The dinner date with the girls to announce their engagement had been Cliff’s suggestion. He’d wanted to take Joan and Katie someplace fancy and fun and had chosen the famous Seattle landmark from the 1962 World’s Fair.
“Come on, girls,” Diana pleaded, “this night is special, so be on your absolute best behavior.”
“Okay,” the two agreed simultaneously.
Cliff arrived ten minutes later, dressed in a crisp pin-striped three-piece suit and looking devilishly handsome. The minute he walked in the house, the girls burst into excited chatter, gathering around him like children before a clown. Although he was listening to Joan and Katie, his eyes sought out Diana’s and were filled with warmth and gentle promise. One look confirmed that his wild imagination hadn’t conjured everything up out of desperation and loneliness. She did love him, and heaven knew he loved her.
Seeing Cliff again made Diana feel nervous, impatient and exhilarated. She’d only arrived back in Seattle the day before, and her whole world had been drastically changed within a matter of a few hours. The memory of Cliff standing on the other side of Joan’s bedroom from her, looking boyish and uncertain as he suggested they get married, would remain with Diana all her life. Anyone who knew this man would never have believed the confident, sophisticated Cliff Howard could be so unsure of himself. In that moment, Diana knew she would never again doubt his love. She didn’t recall how she’d answered him. A simple yes or a nod—perhaps both. What she did remember was the joy of Cliff crushing her in his arms and kissing her until they’d been forced to part when Joan and Katie returned.
“Can I order KFC at the Space Needle?” Katie asked a second time, breaking into Diana’s musings.
“Every restaurant serves chicken, dummy,” Joan inserted. “Personally, I’m going to order shrimp.”
If dishes were wishes, Cliff would order two weeks alone in a hotel room with Diana. He dreamed about making love to her, about lying in bed and experiencing the feel of her skin brushing against him. He thought about waking up with her in the morning and falling asleep with her at night. Night after night, day after day. The mere suggestion excited him, filled him with anticipation for the good life that lay before them. The physical desire he felt for her was deep, honest and powerful. On the twenty-minute drive into Seattle, both Joan and Katie were excited and anxious and kept the conversation going, bantering back and forth, then squabbling, then joking.
The elevator ride up the 605-foot Space Needle left Joan and Katie speechless with awe. Diana treasured the brief silence. She didn’t know what had gotten into her girls lately, but they seemed either to be constantly chattering or else endlessly bickering.
The hostess seated them by a window overlooking Puget Sound and the Olympic mountain range. The two girls sat together, and Cliff sat beside Diana. Once they were comfortable, they were handed huge menus. Diana’s eyes skimmed over her own, and when she’d made her decision, she glanced in the girls’ direction.
“Katie,” she whispered, both embarrassed and amused, “honey, the napkin’s not a party hat. Take it off your head.”
“Oh.” Katie’s dark eyes were filled with chagrin.
