Page 69 of The Playboy and the Widow
“Yes. No. I didn’t know what to think. Where the blazes did you go that was so all-fired important?”
Cliff smiled into the sun. “To talk to a friend.”
“Mom, I’ve got a run in my panty hose,” Joan cried, her young voice filled with distress. “What am I supposed to do now?”
“I don’t like the feel of hair spray,” Katie commented for the tenth time, bouncing her hand off the top of her head several times just to see what would happen to the carefully styled but stiff curls.
“I’ve got an extra pair of nylons in the drawer,” Diana answered Joan first. “Katie, keep your hands out of your hair!” Her mother was due any minute, and Diana didn’t know when she’d been more glad to see either parent. Surprisingly, she wasn’t nervous. She was more confident about marrying Cliff than any decision she’d made in the past three years. He loved her, and together they would build a good life together.
“You’re not wearing your pearl earrings,” Joan said with astonishment, and loudly slapped her sides. “Good grief, is any date more important than this one?”
Diana wrinkled her brow. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t you remember? Honestly, Mom! I wanted you to wear the pearls the first night you went to dinner with Cliff, and you told me you wanted to wait for something festive to impress him.”
Diana smiled at the memory. “I think you’re right,” she said, and traded the small gold pair for the pearls. “Nothing’s more important than today.” Her knees felt weak, not with doubts, but with excitement, and she sat on the corner of the mattress. “How do you girls feel?” she asked, watching her two daughters carefully.
“We’re doing the right thing,” Joan said with all the confidence of a five-star general. “Cliff’s about the best we’re going to do.”
“What?” Diana asked with a small, hysterical laugh.
“Really, Mom,” Katie came back. “For a while, I thought we’d get stuck with that Danny fellow from Wichita.”
“Or Owen,” Joan added. Both girls looked at each other and made silly faces and cried, “Oou!”
“Who’s Owen?” Diana’s mother asked as she stepped into the bedroom.
“He’s the major geek I was telling you about who brought the references,” Joan explained before Diana had the chance. He really was a dear man and someday he’d find the right woman. Fortunately, according to Joan and Katie, it wasn’t her.
“Ah, yes,” Joyce said, sharing a secret smile with her daughter. “You look lovely, sweetheart.”
“Thanks,” Joan answered automatically, then looked and gave her grandmother a chagrined smile. “Oh, you mean my mom.”
“All three of you look beautiful.”
Joan and Katie beamed at the praise.
“Watch, Grandma,” Katie said. Tucking her arms close to her side, Katie whirled around a couple of times so the hemline of her dress flared out.
“Stop behaving like an eight-year-old,” Joan cried. “You’re supposed to be mature today.”
“But I am eight!”
Joan opened her mouth to object, then realized she’d already lost one of her press-on fingernails. For a wild minute, there was a desperate search for the thumbnail. Peace ruled once they located it.
“Mother, would you check Katie’s hair?” Diana asked. “She can’t seem to keep her fingers out of it.”
“Sure. Katie,” Joyce called to her granddaughter, “let’s go into the ladies’ room.”
Three hours later, Diana stood in front of the pastor who had seen her through life and death in the church where she sat each Sunday morning. Her parents, Cliff’s family and a small assortment of close friends were gathered behind them. Joan and Katie stood proudly at her side.
The man of God warmed them all with a rare, tranquil smile. Diana turned, and her gaze happened to catch Cliff’s. He did love her, more than she’d ever dared to dream, more than she’d ever thought possible. He stood tall and proud and eagerly held her eyes, his love shining through for her to read without doubt, without question. He was prepared to pledge his life to her and Joan and Katie. The commitment she sought he was about to willingly vow.
Witnessing all the love in Cliff’s eyes had a chastising effect upon Diana. The man she’d once considered an unscrupulous womanizer had chosen her to share his life. He was prepared to love her no matter what the future held for them, prepared to raise her daughters and guide their young lives. Out of all the beautiful women he’d known, Cliff had chosen her. Diana didn’t know what she’d done to deserve such a good man, but she would always be grateful. Always.
The minister opened his Bible, and Diana focused her attention on the man of the cloth. Her heart was full. Happiness had come to her a second time when she’d least expected it.
When the moment came, Cliff repeated his vows in a firm, assured voice, then silently slipped the solitary diamond on her finger. Diana prepared to do the same.
