Another Shot At Love Read online

  Catherine fidgeted and switched her weight from one foot to the other. “I don’t know him personally, but I know of him. He’s a nice kid. His aunt says so all the time.”

  “Everyone thinks their nephews are perfect,” I said.

  “True,” Lexie said.

  “And it really doesn’t matter.” I said. “He’s not in the picture.”

  “She still needs a date,” Lexie told Catherine, cutting me out of the conversation.

  “I’m not interested.” I attacked the French toast with my fork. “I’m going alone.”

  I’d spent the afternoon working up the courage to stand up to them—bridezilla and hormonal pregnant sister. Usually, I just gave in because arguing with them was a waste of time; I never won. But this time, I really needed them both to understand that this was my own personal choice! Me going solo to an engagement party wasn’t a catastrophe; people went to those things alone all the time.

  “You have to bring a date. I’ve already made the seating charts for the front tables. You have a plus-one. I’m not redoing it. Mom and I spent a week getting it right.”

  “You shouldn’t have assumed I’d have a date because I’m not dating anyone.”

  “Mom,” Lexie whined, and I made a show of covering my ears. She snarled at me, “Real mature.”

  I responded by sticking out my tongue. Childish, but they were treating me like a child they could push around. I’d just gotten out of a really bad relationship; pushing this dating business on me was too much pressure. It wasn’t even fun, not like I’d hoped for, not like I needed it to be. After the stunt Richard had pulled, no way in hell would I let them set me up with anyone else. Sure, Matt had eased the blow. He’d been amazing. But he was also a guy who wasn’t interested in dating, so it wasn’t as if I could call him up to save me. Unless I went solo, I would be going with someone my sisters chose. And that wasn’t happening. Not in this lifetime. .

  “It would be nice if you had a date, Gen.” Mom pointed at a name on the invitation list on the table between her and Lexie. “Your aunt said she will make the engagement party and not to waste an invitation on her.”

  “No one should worry about my dating status.” I popped a piece of bacon into my mouth. It was rubbery after being reheated twice.

  “Brent will have a date,” Catherine said.

  “Brent can kiss my ass,” I said.

  “Imogen Mae, not at the table,” Mom said, but her heart wasn’t in it. She didn’t like Brent, either.

  Lexie raised her brows. “Spoken like a spurned lover.”

  “Mm-hm,” Catherine added and set a washed bowl in the rinse sink. “You better not take him back.”

  I threw up my hands up in frustration.

  “You better not,” Mom agreed.

  “You were a mess after that break up.” Lexie looked up from the last two fabric swatches in her hand. “Tell her, Mom.”

  “I really don’t approve of him and neither does your father.” Mom gave me one of those mother-means-business looks and I waved my fork in the air.

  “Brent and I are over.” I gazed between my sisters but they both avoided my stare. I rolled my eyes. “I’m not so pathetic I’d take him back, sheesh. I have standards, you know.”

  Lexie shrugged, and the disbelief stamped on Catherine’s face made me groan.

  “It’s been four months and I am happy. I broke up with him. Remember?” My appetite was officially gone. I set my fork down and crossed my arms. “I don’t want to talk about him anymore. He’s history.”

  There was a touch of worry in Lexie’s eyes. “You were in love with him.”

  “Yes, but that was before he cheated on me. I’m not in love with him now, and that’s all that matters. Okay?” I met Lexie’s eyes over the table and we stared at each other for a moment before she finally nodded.

  “Okay,” Lexie said.

  “So no more worrying about the jerk from my past, okay?” I gave them each a hard stare. “Please?”

  My sisters and Mom nodded, but telling them not to worry was a waste of time. Of course they’d all worry—just like I would worry about them if the roles were reversed. We were close, us Gorecki women. I loved my family with an intensity I wished everyone else could experience for themselves with their own families. We had always been there for each other.

  “You should give Richard another chance,” Catherine tried again.

  I shook my head. “Nope. I’m going solo. As in numero uno.”

  “You are being so stubborn.”

  “No, I’m not,” I said.

  Catherine resumed scrubbing at a skillet as if her life depended on it. “He’s a nice guy, Gen. You’re taking him.”

  “Why are you being so pushy about this? There’s no way in hell I’m taking him so quit butting into my love life, Catherine Renee!” I threw in the middle name the way Mom did when she was irritated with us girls. And I’d had enough of both Catherine and Lexie for one day. I should have made my plate to-go and enjoyed my meal in peace.

  Catherine threw down the skillet. It landed in the sink with a loud clang, and I jumped in my seat. She turned, belly full of baby and furrowed brows. “The reason you’re single is because you’re too damn picky. There’s nothing wrong with Richard!”

  I picked up my plate and stalked to the trashcan, dumping the cold eggs inside.

  “I’m not going to settle for a guy just because he has a job or because he can speak the same language I do. I can be picky—I’m twenty-three. I have plenty of time to get hitched, and I’m not getting hitched to Richard, or anyone else you throw at me.” Knowing it was over the top, but caught up in the heat of the moment, I added, “I would rather date a carrot stick and walk around downtown naked in a pair of hooker boots than date Richard.”

  “With that attitude you’ll never find a man to marry you.” Catherine was nearly shouting now.

  “Good, because I’m not looking for a man to marry me any time soon,” I said, stating a comment that made no sense to my sisters and Mom. They’d all been understanding about my hatred of men immediately after the break up with Brent, but by now they all expected me to be over it and have a new boyfriend. My parents wanted grandchildren. Mom didn’t teach anymore, so her ultimate goal in life was to fill her home with snotty, crying, poopy toddlers.

  And I would love to give her grandbabies—just not any time soon. How could I explain I needed to get my groove back, first?

  “Wow, you’re grouchy today,” Lexie told Catherine.

  Mom rubbed her temples, as if warding off a migraine.

  This time, Catherine threw a sauce pan into the sink. “Whatever. I was just trying to help Gen out since she’s obviously incapable of finding a date on her own.”

  I gasped, and Mom sighed heavily and stared up into a corner of the ceiling.

  “Mom, seriously, rein her in. She’s ruining my life!”

  “Now you’re just being a dramatic baby,” Catherine huffed, loading the dishes into the dishwasher. Washing dishes before putting them in the dishwasher was a concept I didn’t understand. The whole purpose of a dishwasher was to wash the dishes for you.

  “Oh really? How would you like it if I bossed you around and told you who to date?”

  And then Catherine burst into wounded tears. I turned wide eyes on Lexie, but she was as surprised as I was.

  “Catherine?” Mom asked, her tone timid as concern wrinkled her forehead.

  Lexie kicked me under the table and I winced. “Ouch, Lex.”

  She nodded her head toward Catherine, her eyes telling me it was all my fault. I kicked her back and pushed up from my chair. I went to Catherine and tried to hug her, but she pushed me away. I held on, pulling her into a hug she didn’t want.

  “Hey, I’m sorry,” I said and patted her on the back. “But seriously, what’s up with you? You can’t be this upset because I won’t date Richard.”

  Catherine sniffed and buried her face in my shirt. “I think Tony’s cheating o
n me!”

  My eyes bugged out of my head at Catherine’s unexpected and completely unbelievable statement. I was so shocked that I didn’t protest when Catherine wiped snot all over the shoulder of my t-shirt. I just held her, patting her back. Not only was I shocked into silence, but so were Lexie and Mom. Which was saying a lot; silence wasn’t the Gorecki women’s forte.

  Lexie mouthed, “Oh. My. God.”

  My thoughts exactly.

  “No way,” I insisted and gave her another pat on the back. Not only did Tony adore Catherine, but everyone adored her. Even when she was acting all crazy, like now. She had the biggest heart of anyone. She was a fixer, to a fault, but her heart was always in the right place. Tony had fallen under her spell just as everyone else who’d ever met Catherine had. He’d be an idiot if he thought he could do better than my sister. And Tony wasn’t an idiot. He was a no-nonsense detective.

  Which left only one option. I said, “You’re being paranoid.”

  I hadn’t meant to sound harsh, but it was the truth. If anything was out of the norm, Catherine had a tendency to jump all over it with suspicion. Her favorite pastime was conspiracy theories. Mom had a tendency to overreact, too, but Catherine had inherited it on a heightened level, times two. Still, even for Catherine, this was a leap in an unbelievable direction.

  “I am not!”

  Her passionate response didn’t move any of us. Even Mom, the one person in the room who could be swayed to such paranoia, saw the crazy in the declaration. No one doubted Tony’s loyalty or honesty. He’d been a part of the family long before marrying Catherine. Tony’s dad and our dad had been fishing buddies and best friends well before any of us girls were born, and Tony’s infatuation with Catherine had begun in grade school. After he tricked Lexie and me into drinking from McDonald’s cups full of sand and water, Catherine had sent him home with a bloody lip, forever earning a spot in his heart. No person in the world could pry Tony away from Catherine’s side. To think he’d leave willingly or do anything to screw it up was absurd.

  Yet there stood Catherine, seven months pregnant and a hysterical mess. This was the first time I’d ever seen my older sister really lose it.

  “Whoa,” I finally said and grasped Catherine by the shoulders to gently guide her to the table. “You’re serious.” I nudged her down into a chair.

  Lexie patted Catherine’s hand still clutching a damp dishtowel. “Just take a few deep breaths and tell us why you think Tony’s cheating.”

  Catherine wiped at her eyes. Streaks of mascara trailed down her face. Between hiccups, she said, “He came home late last night. It was almost midnight.”

  We leaned forward for the story. But that was it. Mom, Lexie and I exchanged confused glances when we realized there wasn’t more to the story. Mom tilted her head in confusion and Lexie sat back in her chair with a small shake of her head. Catherine didn’t notice. She was too busy blowing her nose into the dishtowel.

  I patted her on the leg. “Um, Cat, he’s a detective. They do that. It’s his job. Kind of what he signed up for. And what you signed up for when you married him.”

  “Jeez, Cat. You are really out of it lately.” Lexie picked up a bridal magazine and pointed at an image on the page. “Mom, I like these bows, maybe for the pews?”

  I glared at Lexie, who shrugged.

  “What?” she said with an eye roll. “Everyone knows Tony would never cheat on Cat.”

  She had a point. But still.

  I yanked the magazine out of her hands and dropped it to the floor beside her chair. I turned to Catherine. “What else?”

  Catherine sniffled. “He didn’t answer his phone all night when I called. I kept getting his voicemail! All night. All I wanted to know was if he wanted a fucking pork chop or not!”

  Taken aback by this hostile version of Catherine, I sat back in my chair. Just in case my reply might be the wrong one, I also scooted the chair back an inch before suggesting, “Maybe his phone was dead?”

  “His phone was not dead!” Catherine screeched and Lexie jerked in her seat.

  I grimaced—definitely the wrong answer. “Okay, then.”

  Catherine wiped at her eyes. “When he got home, I asked him about it a-and h-h-he,” she gulped, “h-he said, ‘I can’t talk about it.’” She ended on a wail and up flew the dish towel so she could bury her face in it.

  Unsure what to do, I patted Catherine’s hand a few times while Mom stood behind her and rubbed her back, cooing that everything would be okay.

  “Seriously Cat, I think you’re reading too much into this. You know Tony; he’s very serious about his job. If something is bothering him at work the last thing he’s going to do is bring it home to his pregnant wife. He doesn’t like to worry you, and we all know you sort of…stress out real easy.”

  I scooted the chair back another inch just in case the comment made Catherine violent.

  She blew her nose again with the dish towel. “You think so?” Her eyes pleaded for it to be true, and the three of us nodded emphatically. I held my breath while the wheels turned in Catherine’s head. Then she said, “Maybe you’re right. I’m so stupid sometimes.”

  Lexie picked up another bridal magazine off the stack on the table. “I was going to be so pissed if this ruined my engagement party. Tony is a groomsman. He has to be there when we introduce the wedding party.”

  I leaned over and smacked Lexie on the back of the head. “I wonder what you’d be like if you were normal.”

  She rubbed her head. “I’m just saying.”

  Catherine ripped the magazine from Lexie’s hands, stomped to the trash and threw the magazine inside. “Not everything is about you, Princess Lexie.”

  “Mom,” Lexie whined and Mom groaned.

  “You girls are driving me crazy. All of you. I’m going to watch TV.” And then she stood and walked out of the room. .

  “Great. Now look what you did.” Lexie picked up a stack of magazines, hurrying after her. “Wait! Mom! Do you think I can get these bows before the engagement party? They’ll look great on the display tables.”

  “It’s going to be hell around here until after the wedding. You know that, right?” I flipped through the discarded fabric swatches.

  “She’s already stressing about the engagement party dress code. I told her it’s not the wedding. We don’t have to match. If she thinks I’m going to buy a special, expensive dress when I’ll be the size of a rhino by then, she’s crazy.”

  I looked down at her belly. She’d already begun to waddle instead of the graceful stride she’d always had.

  “I’m sure the bridesmaids’ dresses she’ll end up choosing won’t be cheap, either.” I stood and started for the door. “I’m going home now. I need some quiet in my life.”

  “Why don’t I ask Paul to go with you to the party?”

  I stopped dead in my tracks and turned slowly to face my sister—she had definitely lost her mind. Completely.

  “What?”

  “Paul.” Catherine strolled past me and out the kitchen door.

  “Paul? No way.” I followed, hot on her heels. “I’m not going with Paul. That guy doesn’t smile. Like ever. Forget it.”

  “I’ll invite him to supper next week and you can come over,” Catherine said as I tripped over my feet after her into the living room. She eased herself into a recliner beside the couch where Lexie and Mom sat. Lexie’s bridal magazine obstructed Mom’s view of the Food Network and she didn’t look happy about it. Lexie, of course, was oblivious.

  “No.” I was standing still now, but my heart was tripping all over inside my chest. .

  “Invite him to dinner on Saturday. I’m making lasagna,” Mom said, trying to peer at Catherine around Lexie’s magazine.

  “No, you are not inviting him to supper or I won’t come. Not if he’s here with the idea you’re trying to set me up with him.” I pictured Paul, my brother-in-law’s partner on the force. He was built like a Husker defense player, military issue buzz cut, stif
f posture and a loud booming voice I’d heard a million times while he cussed out whatever opposing football team was on the field with the Huskers.

  Catherine told Mom, “Yeah, I think I’ll do that. I don’t know why I didn’t think of him before. He’ll be a great date, especially since he knows most of the family already.”

  Tony and Paul had been partners for four years, meaning Paul was at every family barbeque, every football party, every birthday party. Him and his psycho girlfriend.

  “He has a girlfriend,” I threw out.

  “Ex-girlfriend,” Catherine answered.

  “Whatever,” I said, wondering what had happened to Whitney. I was too afraid to ask any questions that might be mistaken for interest, though.

  Lexie snickered.

  “I’m not going with him.” I crossed my arms. No one paid me any attention.

  “Good, at least that’s settled,” Mom said. She pointed to something in the magazine. “I’ll have the ribbons made just like that. Tear that picture out.”

  I snapped my mouth shut and the panic made me dizzy. Nothing I said would ever make a difference. My stance on the matter meant nothing to them. Even Lexie, who, on a normal day would have pointed out just how wrong Paul was for me in every way, didn’t seem to care. All she cared about these days were ribbons and bows.

  No way was I going with Paul! They couldn’t make me. Paul made me uneasy. He didn’t go anywhere without his gun. Anywhere. He probably slept with it. My heart still lurched erratically in my chest, my breaths coming closer and closer together with every second.

  I’m going to hyperventilate. Or maybe I was having an anxiety attack. Both were possible.

  “Okay,” I blurted and jumped to my feet. Three sets of curious eyes observed my flailing hands. I sucked in a deep breath and raised my arms in a Y of triumph—or desperation. “I guess I’ll just have to say it. I can’t go with Paul or anyone else because I already have a boyfriend!”