Read Online JanesPrize by Margrett Dawson - Free Book Online Page B

of
wearing a suit. Already a couple of people had cast a puzzled look at Pierce’s
tweeds and white shirt. She had to buy him some casual pants, lightweight
shirts and more suitable shoes.
    Inside the store that carried mainly
outdoor clothing, she stopped by the racks of colored shirts. Pierce ran his
hand along the hangers.
    “Will they fit?” he asked doubtfully.
    “I don’t see why not. Let me see, I think
you’d take a large.” She ran her eye over his frame, trying not to think of
what was hidden beneath the clothes, and pulled out a blue and gray checked
shirt. She held it against him.
    “Can I help you?”
    Jane turned to the young man behind her.
“Just wondering about sizes,”
    “I know my measurements.” Pierce rattled
off a string of numbers, including inside leg.
    The assistant nodded and searched the
racks.
    “I’ve never bought anything ready-made
before,” Pierce whispered in her ear.
    Before she could say anything more, the
young man turned with a couple of pairs of pants over his arm. “Just bring your
shirts along and I’ll find you a cubicle to try them on.” He turned and they
followed meekly.
    Fifteen minutes later Pierce emerged from
the store wearing jeans with the blue and gray shirt Jane had picked out. His
suit, two pairs of chinos and shirts were carefully folded in the bag that swung
at his side.
    Outside on the pavement, she let out her
breath. Pierce blended in perfectly with the summer shoppers. She began to
think that maybe there was a chance he could pass muster as a modern man.
     
    Back at the car she turned the key in the
ignition. “Now for the big test,” she said as she waited for an SUV full of
kids to inch past her back bumper.
    “Sounds ominous. What is it?”
    “Mother.”
    “Ah! I seem to remember dealing with the
mamas of a few young ladies.”
    “Do you, indeed?”
    “The likeness of a she-bear protecting her
cub comes to mind.”
    Jane laughed. “I don’t think you’ll find my
mother that intimidating, but she will give you the third degree.”
    Pierce raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like the
she-bears I’ve known.”
    While she’d been waiting for Pierce to try
on his new clothes Jane had reviewed in her mind all the reasons why she
shouldn’t take him to meet her mother. Then all the reasons why she should.
    If she was to see a lot of Pierce, as she
hoped, he would have to meet her mother sooner or later. Jane was not really of
the “jump into the cold water and get it over with” school of thought. Yet here
she was on her way back to her mother’s house with a film that showed the old
mansion was haunted and the ghost himself sitting large and warm and definitely
human right next to her. Oh boy!
    “So tell me something about her.”
    Jane drew in a deep breath. “Hard to know
where to begin. It isn’t that my mother is difficult. It’s just that I made the
mistake of moving back home after college and she thinks I’ll stay forever.”
She braked for a cyclist barreling through the intersection. Idiot!
    “Don’t get me wrong,” she continued. “I
love my mom and we get along okay. It’s just that every so often I feel she
might wash my face with the corner of her handkerchief and straighten the bow
in my hair just as she used to do when I was six.”
    She turned into the street where she lived.
“It’s the third house down.” She pulled to the curb and stopped. “I really have
no complaints. Except that I’m never alone. If I have a date and announce it,
it becomes a big deal and I get the cross-examination afterward. If I keep it
secret I felt guilty and mean-spirited.”
    She turned to Pierce. So here she was with
a hunk who looked like Orlando Bloom on a good day and who, if he opened his mouth,
was likely to put his foot in it and give away the whole enchilada.
    “You want me to keep quiet?” he asked.
    “Yes. No! Just let me do most of the
talking. Forgive me.” She touched his arm. “But until we’ve worked out our
story