“That son of yours…” Dr. Mills muttered under his breath.
“Oh sure, he’s my son when he’s chasing skirts,” Mrs. Mills said, “but yours when you need to impress your shallow clients. Your son, the famous electric guitarist.”
“My sons, the famous electric guitarists,” Dr. Mills corrected. “Your sons, the notorious skirt chasers.”
“They don’t get it from me.”
Dr. Mills chuckled and kissed the tip of her nose. “I stopped chasing skirts after I found the right one.”
Rebekah smiled, hoping she and Eric still shared that kind of affection after thirty years of marriage, and looked over to see how Isaac was taking Trey’s continual indiscretions.
Isaac had vanished. The floor-to-ceiling window behind his favorite drape was opened. Had he honestly snuck outside through the open window? Rebekah sighed and rubbed her forehead to stave off a threatening headache. She really didn’t need this right now. She already wanted to go home. She had enough drama to deal with in her own life, thank you very much.
A shadow crossed Rebekah’s face. “There you are, Rebekah. So good to see you again. Where’d did Isaac run off to?” Isaac’s father asked. The man looked nothing like Isaac. Where Isaac was graceful and handsome, Dr. Crandall was shaped like a barrel and had a protruding forehead demarcated by a wild eyebrow. Yes, eyebrow. Singular. The man had apparently never been introduced to tweezers. He sniffed his red, bulbous nose and swiped a hand over his receding hairline. Isaac definitely took after his mother.
“I think he’s in the restroom,” Rebekah lied.
“As soon as he gets back, tell him to find me so we can make his big announcement.” Something caught his attention behind her. He smiled, showing yellowed teeth. “Oh good, your parents are here now. I’ll go say hello.”
Her parents? Rebekah’s heart skipped a beat. She cringed and chanced a glance over her shoulder. Sure enough, there was her mother in a fuchsia evening gown two sizes too small, and her father in his tweed church suit and unfashionably wide, yellow-and-blue striped tie. What in the world were they doing here? She supposed Isaac was like a son to them. They’d want to hear his big news. She wished Isaac would have told her that he’d invited them.
“Excuse me,” she said to Trey’s parents and climbed out the window behind the drapery in search of her escaped date.
She found Isaac staring at a shrub trimmed into the shape of a rearing horse. She touched his lower back, and he started.
“Your father is looking for you,” she said. “He says it’s time to make the announcement.”
He nodded slightly and bit his trembling lower lip. Her heart went out to him. She knew what heartache felt like. She’d experienced the empty, achy chasm in her chest not too long ago, due to the very man who was feeling it now.
“Trey’s probably being a jerk to set you free, sweetheart. To give you a clean break before you get too attached.”
“I don’t want to be set free.”
She rubbed his back and leaned against his arm. “Let’s go get this over with and then we can leave.”
“What about dinner?”
“I’ll pretend to feel sick.”
“I don’t need to pretend.”
She took his elbow and tugged him toward the house, steering away from the window to enter through the open terrace doors. “Why didn’t you tell me you invited my parents?”
Isaac’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t. They’re here?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s odd.”
When they stepped into the main gathering room, the crowd erupted into enthusiastic applause. Rebekah smiled. Everyone was certainly excited to welcome Isaac into their fold. She was happy for him. She knew how hard he worked.
Dr. Crandall lifted his glass of champagne, and a hush fell over the crowd. “I want to thank you all for coming to my son’s engagement party. It’s about time the boy got hitched.”
Rebekah spun and glared at Isaac, who looked as flabbergasted as she felt. “You told them we were engaged?” she said in harsh whisper.
He shook his head. “No, of course not.”
Rebekah spun to the crowd. “We’re not engaged. We’re just friends.”
“That’s not true!” Rebekah’s mother cried. “They are engaged. They are.”
“What do you mean you’re not engaged?” Dr. Crandall bellowed.
“Isaac and I are just friends,” Rebekah said. “We never got back together after we broke up. In fact, I’m marrying someone else.”
“But your mother said—”
Everyone turned to look at her mom, and Rebekah could tell by the wild look in her eyes that she wasn’t well. Eric had tried to tell her that, but Rebekah had gotten too wrapped up in her own happiness to get her mom the help she needed.
“I’m sorry, Mom, but I’m not marrying Isaac. I’m marrying Eric.”
There was a twittering of “who’s Eric” throughout the crowd. Rebekah spotted Trey, and he offered a nod of encouragement. A friend in a sea of enemies.
Banshees had nothing on her mother’s shriek. “No! You have to marry Isaac. You have to! If you don’t, I’ll… I’ll… I’ll…” She repeatedly clenched and unclenched both fists. Dad grabbed her arm to prevent her from flying across the room and
attacking Rebekah.
“Mary,” he said, glancing nervously at all the upper-class citizens staring at her. “Calm down.”
“Mom, it will never work between us. Isaac’s…” She caught herself before she said g*y and glanced at Isaac, who looked paler than an anemic ghost. “…not right for me.”
“You little tramp,” Mom screamed. “You’ve been shacking up with that filthy rock star, haven’t you? No wonder Isaac doesn’t want you.”
“Hey,” Trey protested, “I happen to like that filthy rock star.”
“It’s not her,” Isaac said quietly.
“Now you apologize to Isaac, Rebekah Esther Blake, and you beg him to take you back. You beg him!”
“Mother, I’m not going to marry Isaac. Get over it.”
“Stop saying that. Just stop!” She turned her tearful eyes to Isaac. “Isaac, sweetheart, she doesn’t mean it. She wants to marry you. Please take her back. Please! I know she’s wronged you, but—”