“Mom. That’s a little hypocritical coming from you, isn’t it? If I’m going to the ball with a man, you should too.”
“I’m not getting married again,” her mother said, suddenly cross.
Merry choked. “Who said anything about marriage? I’m certainly not after Carlisle Wyndham.” When a memory of her most recent dream tried to push its way to the forefront of her mind, she pushed it back. “What a nightmare that would be.”
“Why would it be a nightmare?” Her mother asked, now serious.
“Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“Of course not, sweetheart. But your father and I had thirty wonderful years together.” Her mother shook her head. “It’d be unfair to expect any man to compete with that.”
While Merry and Ray had only had four years. She closed her eyes against the stinging. Did her mother really think she had a right to grieve longer because she’d been married longer?
“Please don’t play matchmaker,” she said, her voice tight. “Mr. Wyndham is a pleasant man with a darling daughter my son adores. It’s nothing more than that.”
Merry didn’t wait for her mother to argue but turned and went to get her son who was playing with the gift she’d won.
8
Merry glanced up at the chime of the salon’s front door. Hannah, one of the high school girls, stood near the counter, looking unsure. Merry was the closest, so she set down her things.
“I’ll be right back,” she said to Trish and went to the counter. “Hi, Hannah. Can I help you?”
“I was wondering if your salon would put up this poster about the contest for the Christmas Royalty Pageant.” Hannah leaned closer. “Cleo’s been nominated.”
“Cleo Klausse? That’s fantastic. She used to babysit Alex when he was a baby.”
“They’re announcing the winners at the Christmas Ball.”
Merry took the flyer. “I’ll have to check with Alice. Wish Cleo good luck for me.”
“I will.” Hannah grinned and hurried out the door.
“I’m looking forward to the Chamber Ball this year.” Trish sent Merry a sly glance.
She didn’t comment but spritzed on some hair spray instead. The last thing Merry needed to tell the self-proclaimed matchmaker was about the date with Carlisle for the ball. The thought still did crazy things to Merry’s stomach, not all of them unpleasant. She handed Trish the mirror and glanced at the clock.
“You’re quiet today,” the woman said as she rose from the chair. “Is something bothering you?”
“It’s just that the daycare closes in three minutes, and I need to pick up my son.”
“That’s my fault. I’m so sorry I was late today.” Trish headed toward the counter. “Why don’t you call Millie and have her send him down here?”
“That doesn’t work for me.”
Because the street outside was already teaming with the first of the festival night visitors in anticipation of turning on the lights in the town square and the arrival of Santa Claus. It was nights like this, when Merry gave serious consideration to opening her own shop. Alice, the owner of La Chevelure Salon, often suffered from selective amnesia when it came to making up the schedule. Especially as it related to the children of her employees. Even though Happy Ducklings Daycare was only down the street, it was a busy street with lots of strangers, especially during the holidays. Even if Millie would let children check themselves out, Merry would never suggest it.
“Are you planning to attend the ball this year?” Trish asked, handing over a twenty-dollar bill.
“How much do you want back?” Merry asked as she texted the daycare that she’d be on her way soon.
“You keep the change. And don’t just spend it on that cute son of yours!”
“Wow, Trish. Thank you.” Merry’s heart warmed at the woman’s generosity.
“Now, about the ball.” Trish arched her brows and grinned expectantly. “I’d love to set you up with that gorgeous man if you don’t have a date yet.”
“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. I’ve already got one. Thanks again.” Merry didn’t wait for questions but hurried back to her station to collect her things.
