Her Convenient Millionaire by Gail Dayton

like—practicing. Or maybe hoping.”
    The tears in Clara’s eyes worried Sherry, and she came to sit beside the older woman.
    â€œI’m just so tired,” Clara said. “And I miss Roger so terribly. I’m ready to be with him again. But I can’t leave Micah, yet. He’s not ready. He’s so alone.”
    â€œHe loves you.”
    â€œI know.” Clara patted Sherry’s hand, comforting her, instead of the other way round. “But I’m his mother. He needs someone of his own to love.”
    Sherry read the hope in Clara’s eyes and shook her head. “I’m not that person. He can barely tolerate me.”
    â€œHe likes you. I can tell.” Clara pulled back her hand, then lifted both in a warding-off gesture. “Oh, I know. I’m being a meddling old fool. I’ll stop. But I’d like to wring that spoiled brat’s neck.” Her eyes narrowed, and her hands made twisting motions in the air.
    Sherry watched, fascinated. She’d never seen anyone speak so eloquently with hand motions.
    â€œI just want to pop her little head right off,” Clara said. “She ruined him, you know. Broke his heart. And now he won’t even try.”
    â€œWho? Mike?”
    â€œWell, who else have we been talking about?”
    â€œWhat happened?” Sherry asked, curiosity aroused in spite of her best intentions.
    â€œThat’s not my story to tell.” Clara waved her away. “Go check on the fish. It broils fast.”
    Sherry felt like growling herself. But she didn’t. It was none of her business whether Mike’s heart was broken. Nor was his supposed loneliness any of her business. Just because so much of her own life had been spent drowning in loneliness didn’t mean they had anything in common. It didn’t mean they were the answer to each other’s problem. It didn’t mean anything, at all….
    Dinner proved astonishingly delicious. Afterward, Sherry settled Clara in her recliner with the TV remote and cleaned up the kitchen. She had a little trouble figuring out how to load the dishwasher. It looked a little strange when she was done, but with any luck, the dishes would still get clean. When she returned to the living room, Clara had drifted to sleep to the sound of some raucous comedy.
    Sherry was thumbing through old copies of Southern Living and resisting the urge to look at the photos again whenthe phone rang. Probably Mike, checking to see how things were going.
    â€œScott residence. Who’s calling please?” she said in her best Easton School for Girls voice.
    â€œSherry? Is that you?” Definitely not Mike.
    â€œJuliana? How did you get this number?” Why would her sister be calling? Sherry took the phone into the kitchen to keep from disturbing Clara. “What do you want? Did Tug put you up to—”
    â€œTug doesn’t know anything about this. I just wanted to be sure you were okay.” Juliana sounded worried. Sherry didn’t want to worry her more. Her sister was sweet and shy and couldn’t do anything to help.
    â€œI’m fine. How did you get this number?”
    â€œFrom Tug. From his desk. He doesn’t know I have it.”
    â€œBut how did he get it?” Dread settled over Sherry’s shoulders.
    â€œI don’t really know. Does it matter? What’s going on, Sherry? Why did you leave?”
    â€œI’m going to live in the real world, kid. It’s time, don’t you think?” She needed to change the subject. “What’s going on with you?”
    â€œI think I’m getting married.”
    â€œWhat? What do you mean, you think you’re getting married?”
    â€œIt’s not definite.” Juliana paused, and when she went on, her voice had faded, as if she were embarrassed. “One of those arranged things.”
    Now Sherry was worried. Surely Tug wasn’t pulling the same trick on Juliana? She