&Copy 2004 by Elizabeth Delayne

Running a hand through his hair, Parker reached Melody's door and knocked. He glanced at his watch, frowning, then looked around and reached up to knock again.

The door opened before his hand connected with the door a third time, and Melody stood at the door, her hair in rollers that dangled demurely around her head. She wore a pair of designer jeans and an oversized button down shirt.

Her eyebrows were lifted—having already spotted him through the peephole. "Parker—I thought you were in Chicago."

"I was—until now. I came back for the dance."

"The Valentine's Special?"

Yeah, he thought. That one—the evening the chamber of commerce opened the ballroom of the local nineteenth century mansion to raise money for the historical society. It had been a staple evening for years—a night high school girls pined for because they couldn't go, waiting for the day that they were old enough. A night women planned ahead for months in advance.

Or so he'd learned from his sisters.

"I had planned to take Rachel—"

"She's not here."

"I was hoping you knew where she was."

"Mel—who is it? You haven't finished with my right hand." The door opened wider and Leigh stuck her head out, her cropped hair curled in oversized Velcro rollers. She held her hands up in the air as her half complete fingernail polish job dried.

"Parker—what are you doing here?"

"Looking for Rachel."

"She's not here."

"She's not in town," Melody sighed. "She went up to her mother's—didn't want to hang around here with the rest of us going. I didn't think—she didn't think you would be back."

"I knew she wanted to go. I couldn't promise—I didn't want her to—How far away does her mother live? Not more than an hour, right?"

"Not more than an hour, but she doesn't have a dress or shoes or—" Melody reached up and touched the curler that dangled from her blond hair. "And the dance starts in under three hours."

"I've got the dress and shoes and ... whatever—" Whatever else, he thought, that was in that bag. "I've got three sisters, remember. I thought she would—"

"Sit around and pine?"

"vNo, but she didn't mention that she was leaving. And it is Valentine's Day."

"With the right dress and shoes, the world is limitless—hold on a sec, I've got an idea."

And with that, Melody pulled Leigh inside and shut the door.



With three sisters, one would have believed that Parker could handle two women. He couldn't say that their chatter bothered him, or the ever-so-often shrieks that sounded as they flipped through a bridal magazine, looking over dresses for Leigh's wedding. The scent of fingernail polish and didn't exactly match with the perfume they'd sprayed on.

Dunked themselves in, he thought.

They left messages here, called someone there, sharing all about what they considered to be a romantic adventure. They appeased their own dates, as they were leaving town with another man in what should have been the dinner hour. Their cell phone rang more in a short hour drive then his had in the time he'd been in Chicago.

Which he thought, running a finger around his collar, might have been part of the problem. He wasn't used to settling down, setting expectations, making them of other people.

She hadn't called him—probably hadn't felt she could or should. They had talked—over and hour one night, over two the next—but he had been the one to call her, the one to draw an end to the conversation. Each time he'd stretched his schedule to fit her in, keeping himself busy, trying to get home for Valentine's Day.

She'd never had a Valentine's Day date and though she didn't pine about not having one, he'd seen the envy in her eyes. It had been nearly a month ago, when they'd been out with a group, when Leigh and Melody had gushed over their past flings and dates and Valentine's Day Specials. He'd felt her mood shift, his arm draped casually over the booth behind her. They'd both known, even then, that he would be in Chicago.

"Rachel! Hey!"

His hands jerked on the wheel and the car wrenched to the left. He looked in his rearview mirror and saw Melody wink at him.

"No—I guess I turned my ringer off." Beside her, Leigh held a hand to her lips and even Parker smiled. They'd turned the ringer off as they'd left the house, just in case. The three of them prided themselves on being as honest as possible with each other. "Yes, Leigh's with me. We're headed out now ... uh—no. Last minute change of plans. We're meeting up with them."

Hesitating for a moment, Melody leaned across Leigh and slightly unzipped the garment bag that hung on the hook. "The blue one. With sequins.... I wish you would have gone with us... Yeah—so you say every year. We're taking lots of pictures I promise..."

She handed the phone off to Leigh and she continued the casual conversation as Melody picked up her digital camera and took a shot of Leigh—still in her denim cut offs in February weather—talking on the phone, then toward the front at him.

When Leigh clicked off, Melody giggled and Leigh laughed.



Rachel's mother lived in a house out away from town, out in the woods. Simple and almost graceful, with a porch that reached around the front and side, Parker knew where Grace got her personality.

Melody and Leigh sent him up alone—as if it were their scheme. He only rolled his eyes. Maybe it was. They knew Rachel better than he, in some ways. And he never would have found this house without them.

He slid his store bag, holding the dress over his shoulder and took a deep breath. Suddenly, it was like he was in high school again, asking a girl out for a date.

And in some ways, it was so much more.

"Parker!" Rachel opened the door in a rush—then stopped and stared at him. "You're not in—"

"No—and you're not at home."

"I didn't think you were—"

"Obviously not. You just missed a few clues." He handed her the dress bag from the upscale department store he'd taken her to more than a week before he'd left for Chicago. Let me see you in the dress you would have chosen, if I would be here on Valentine's Day and you could have any dress you would ever want.

So they'd shopped, and she'd let herself dream for him. He'd encouraged her to ignored the price. He watched her carefully consider the fabric and the color and the style. He saw the delight in her eyes as she modeled each one for him.

She stared at the bag, then looked up at him, her lips separated in stunned surprise, but her hand stayed at her side. "Parker—"

The look was precious, priceless, a photograph of his own that he would keep in his heart. She hadn't let herself dream of him, think about going. It had been something to dear for her to hope for.

"I can't—we can't. It's too late—"

He shifted the bag and let the dress escape, so that the buttercup fabric flowed. "It comes with all the stuff you need to go with it. Everyone has said so."

"Everyone?"

"My sister's, Melody and Leigh—"

"They were in on this?"

He stepped back out the door to signal Melody and Leigh, then paused. There was one more gift he had for her. Slightly more simple, and even more true.

And handing the bag off to her grinning mother, he gave her the kiss he'd kept for her, held for her, while in Chicago—a kiss from his heart that held words he had yet to say.

Happy Valentine's Day.

I love you.

HEY! and don't forget to e-mail me if you have a comment!







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