11 Whiskey Tango Foxtrot by Heather Long Page B

“I’ll go out to eat with you.”
    She ended up owing him a week’s worth of meals, but even when Joe finally said good night and headed back to his apartment, her smile didn’t fade.
     
    ***
     
    She hummed her way through the laundry at lunchtime. Libby sprawled in her playpen, sound asleep. After Joe left the night before, she’d relocated the baby to the crib in the bedroom and crawled into bed, settling her hand on the little one’s chest before promptly drifting off into the best sleep she’d had in…well, in forever. Both the drag on her muscles and the unbearable weight always riding her shoulders relaxed.
    The gentle knock on the door made her jump but not as bad as the night before. Joe said he would be by after his therapy session, and it was almost two in the afternoon. Running a hand over her hair, she checked her ponytail. She could probably have put on some makeup, but it seemed ridiculous to dress up to do laundry.
    At the door, she hesitated and glanced through the peephole. Joe sat in his chair, a warm smile on his face and his head tipped up as though waiting for her to see him. She released the locks and opened it wide, but the greeting died on her lips when she saw an older woman with him. She reminded her of Angela Bassett, only a little heavier and a lot scarier.
    “Melody, I’m sorry to spring this on you.” He gave the woman next to him a mild look. “But this is my mother. Meredith Anderson—this is my lovely neighbor, Melody Carter.” A subtext flowed beneath the words, but she couldn’t quite discern whether his disapproval was for his mother or for her.
    “Hello.” She held out her hand and Mrs. Anderson took it in her own, giving it a firm, warm squeeze before tugging Melody forward for a quick hug. The easy affection startled her even more than the handshake or his mother’s presence in the first place. She stared at him over his mother’s shoulder and he mouthed ‘sorry.’
    “You’re right, Joe, she needs feeding up.” The critical statement carried no censure at all, and if anything, sounded indulgent. “My son says the two of you would like to go out to dinner—”
    “Momma.” Joe’s voice was low, but hard. “I asked you not to….”
    “I know exactly what you asked me.” She held onto Melody’s hands. “And I know you haven’t cleaned up since the workout and the removal of your brace. Why don’t you go on back with your father and shower? Melody and I are completely capable of getting to know each other.”
    “You got the back brace off?” Melody stirred enough to walk around Meredith and get a look at Joe. Sure enough, the stiff, white plastic around his middle was gone.
    “Yes, ma’am.” Joe brushed the side of her hand with his finger. A shiver of electricity skated up her arm. “The bones are knitted. I’ll be in the chair a while longer thanks to the leg, but they said in about two weeks I can shift to crutches.”
    “That’s fantastic.” Her heart squeezed a little. She didn’t wish him a longer spell in the chair, but…no. No buts. A kind man, he deserved to get well and make a full recovery. “Really, it’s wonderful.”
    “Thank you. How’s Libby?”
    “She’s good. She’s been really sleepy today, but she had a lot of excitement yesterday and I think you spoiled her a little last night.” Which had nothing to do with anything, but she appreciated the time and the patience he showed to both of them. “And I really don’t want to intrude on your family time.”
    “Oh honey, you’re not intruding.” Meredith threaded her arm through Melody’s and turned her back to the apartment, the move so smooth she was halfway inside before she realized what had happened. “In fact, I’m the one intruding. My son is going to shower and change, and then he’ll be over to take you out on a proper date.”
    “Momma.” Joe sighed. “She doesn’t want to go out tonight. The baby has surgery on Monday.”
    “And that’s exactly