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a MOTHER'S HEART: yOU BELONG TO ME |
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A Mother's Heart anthology features three special women who
contend with the trials and joys of mothering---and find romance in
unexpected ways. In You Belong to Me by Isabel Sharpe, a
stressed-out executive revisits her hometown to reunite with the birth
mother she hasn't seen since infancy, and gets a surprise reunion in
the bargain---with her first love, the high school bad-boy who broke
her heart.
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| “How’s that soup, Maggie dear?” “It’s great. Thank you.” She smiled at her birth mother, but Grant could see her reserve. The Maggie he knew would have looked past Clara’s cover to make her judgment—she’d seen something in him after all—but this new older Maggie . . . who knew what she thought of Clara’s flakiness and disorganization? “How long can you stay, Maggie?” He desperately hoped long enough that she could get to know her birth mother better. What you saw wasn’t even close to what you got with Clara. And yeah, maybe have a few hours leftover to spend with him, too. Or a lot of hours. “A week.” Clara patted Maggie’s hand, eyes misting over. “Can you believe I found my daughter? Or that she found me?” “No.” His gaze met Maggie’s; he experienced a jolt of the familiar electricity. He used to get turned on sitting across the classroom if she happened to look up. “It’s amazing.” Her eyes softened, just a flicker. What had changed her? She’d always been high energy, but not as if the slightest change in the breeze would make her jump out of her skin. He wanted to get her alone and find out how her life had been, whether she was doing what she wanted, whether she was involved with anyone, whether the lucky bastard made her happy. He became aware of Clara watching them speculatively. By now she’d have figured out that something more than “classmates” had gone on between them. Intensive matchmaking efforts would result, which sounded fine to him. There was a woman at work he’d been vaguely interested in, but after this short evening Ann already seemed to belong to another galaxy. Maggie did that to him. Some things never changed. The sad bottle of champagne was quickly drained to give moisture back to mouths sucked dry by the chicken, then a pitcher of water passed and refilled. The jelly roll was sawed through and dutifully consumed, washed down with cups of sawdust-tasting chamomile tea. Grant offered to help with the dishes, but Clara shooed him and Maggie out of the kitchen, insisting that Maggie had to see the remarkable transformation he’d effected on his house, which would mean nothing to her since she hadn’t seen it before. But given his volcano of feelings she’d started in him again, he had absolutely zero objections to getting Maggie Chesterton alone. |
