Page 64 of Hearts of Wealth

Marcy gave a hearty laugh, patting my arm affectionately. “Oh, Timothy. Always so cautious. You don’t need to be shy about your feelings, dear. I was young once.”

“Marcy,” I began, trying to divert the conversation away from the topic of children. I wasn’t sure Catherine was ready for such a leap in our relationship, which was still fairly new.

Luckily, Marcy seemed to catch on to my discomfort. “All right, I’ll leave it alone. But when the time comes, I can’t wait to see your beautiful babies.”

We moved on from Marcy and her cackling ladies. “We should introduce her to my dad,” Catherine said. “She’s a very kind, funny woman with spunk. That’s what my dad needs.”

“I agree,” I said. “That’s not a bad idea.”

“Catherine!” Amber called out.

“Go,” I said when she looked back at me. “I’ll find you in a bit.”

I decided to go check on John. He had managed to move out to one of the couches on the covered patio. I was determined to coax him out of his funk. He was grumpy, but I could tell it was more about his stubborn refusal to relax and enjoy himself than any physical discomfort. I felt bad for the guy. He was used to moving around without restrictions. Catherine had made it clear he was to avoid alcohol and some of the food. That was a party killer.

“Hey, John,” I said and sat at the opposite end of the couch. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Hardly,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Everyone’s so damn chipper.”

I chuckled, leaning back against the plush cushions of the couch. “Well, it is a party. People are supposed to be happy.”

John sighed heavily, ruffling his graying hair with one hand. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Suddenly, Catherine appeared from within the throng of guests, her eyes sparkling with merriment. A slice of lemon cake was balanced on a plate in her hands as she made her way toward us.

“Dad,” she said brightly, offering him the treat. “Try some of this cake.”

“Am I allowed?” he muttered.

“Yes. You’ve been doing so good all week. I’ll get you some milk to wash it down with.”

John grumbled, but a spark of excitement was evident in his eyes as he accepted the plate. He hadn’t indulged his sweet tooth for weeks now, and the thought of lemon cake was clearly enticing. “Don’t forget the fork, Catherine.”

She promptly handed him a fork and then disappeared back into the crowd. A moment later, she emerged with a glass of milk.

“Thanks,” he said.

“Did you like the beach?” I asked him.

“I did,” he admitted. “I wish I could spend a little more time out there. You know, they don’t tell you that even though you get old, your brain is still young. I feel like I’m thirty. When I look in the mirror and see this old face, I don’t get it.”

I nodded understandingly. “Age is just a number, right? It’s how you feel that counts.”

He managed a small smile at my words. “Except I think I should feel good but my body says otherwise. I’m weak as a kitten.”

“You had a heart attack,” I reminded him. “It’s a miracle you’re alive at all.”

“That’s true,” he replied, taking a bite of his cake. His face immediately broke into a grin. “This is damn good,” he remarked.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his enthusiasm. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

I was watching Catherine move through the crowd. She was a natural at the mingling thing, but unlike Regina, she wasn’t trying to dominate the party. She was talking, laughing, and being a good hostess. I noticed her talking to Marcy at one point. I didn’t think anything of it until Marcy approached us.

“Who’s your friend?” Marcy asked.

“Marcy, this is John, Catherine’s father. John, this is Marcy. She’s a local around here.”

Marcy sat down in one of the chairs. “What are you two doing sitting over here? The party is out there, boys.”