Read May Day Magic for Free Online

WHERE?”
    “Walking. Down the street.” Allen arched back and stared upward. “What’s the matter with that?”
    With a big exhale, Diane turned to Meggie.
    “He was walking up Cedar Street when we drove by,”
    Meggie’s tone was world-weary; had her daughter always known everything?
    “He is the only person who knew about the May basket.” Meggie’s gaze narrowed. “Unless you told someone else.” She paused. “He likes you.”
    Diane shook her head. An indefinable emotion expanded inside, making her blood pound faster. “But how did he know when we’d be gone?”
    “Because he asked when we were taking the basket,” Meggie retorted. “You told him.”
    This emotion inside scared, and exhilarated, her.
    Allen disappeared toward the kitchen with the donuts.
    The flowers in the basket dipped softly in the breeze. She raised a hand and caressed the fuchsia-tipped tulip. She inhaled the marvelous scent of the white hyacinths. And she smiled at the pansies, purple, yellow, and white. Removing the small white wicker basket from the doorknob, she carried her treasure into the house.
    “How do you know they’re from him, Meggie? Grandma could have—”
    “Not Grandma, Mom. Not this year.” Meggie eyed her mother. “Are you so clueless? He stops by school for your planter and fills it with your favorite flowers. He takes out practically every flower in the refrigerator to show Allen. He gets up Sunday morning and delivers this to you exactly while you’re gone. Do you think he usually does that stuff for all the customers?” Meggie shook her head, her eyebrows knit together. “Don’t you get it? He gave you that May basket.”
    Diane frowned, a murky thought coming into her mind.
    Meggie watched her. “Come on, Mom. Don’t blow this. You like him. I know you do.”
    Diane started, a helpless smile opening on her face. “What about that woman on Friday,” she mumbled.
    “Oh, geez,” Meggie responded. “I wouldn’t worry about her. She’s not Marc’s type.”
    “What?” Diane exclaimed. Was there no end to all the male-female knowledge her daughter had picked up? “Not Marc’s type?”
    “Well, he’s not Mr. Stafford to you.”
    “He is to you,” Diane retorted.
    Her daughter raised one shoulder. “Okay, but it’s still true. She’s not Mr. Stafford’s type. I think you should go find him.”
    “Drive after him?” Diane’s chest heaved. “I’d feel silly.”
    “Walk then.”
    Diane stared at her daughter. “You mean sprint if you two saw him on Cedar Street. He’ll be basically home.”
    Meggie rolled her eyes and gave a huge sigh. “You’re not usually this dense, Mom. It’s almost eight-thirty. So it’s taken him close to an hour for him to walk, what, a mile? I doubt he would really take that long. He looks pretty fit to me.”
    Diane’s cheeks colored. Clearly, this day marked the end of regarding her daughter as a little girl.
    Meggie blazed on.
    As if talking man sense into her mother was commonplace, Diane noted.
    “If he had taken the foot path through the woods, he’d be home. But he didn’t. However, if you take the foot path…” She leaned closer. “Now,” she said with emphasis, “you’ll catch up to him. He’s not walking very fast.”
    An incoming text signal sounded from Meggie’s pocket.
    Diane’s daughter slid her phone out of her jean pocket. With one glance at the bright screen, her face took on a glow of its own, one that made her pixie-faced daughter look very much a woman.
    Meggie raised her head and met her mother’s gaze. “Drew.” She looked away for a second, shook her hair back, and grinned, a young girl again.
    “Are you going to answer him?”
    “Mother, may I?”
    Meggie’s gray eyes, so like Diane’s own, grew large in a teasing expression. Diane grinned back. The game had been Meggie’s favorite, but a very long time ago.
    “Of course I’m answering him.”
    Meggie’s tone said Diane was once again operating with the