Rona, plump and radiant, lounged on the sofa, watching her daughter pace. Becca was excited, glued to the door.
Rona smiled, amused and slightly envious. “You’re bouncing around like a cat, Becca. Sit down. If your man’s coming, he’ll knock.”
Becca whirled, flushed. “You don’t understand, Mom! I have to surprise him, get the upper hand!”
Rona’s chest tightened with desire, imagining the visitor. Jealousy surprised her. “I see,” she murmured, looking at the door. “So he’s that kind of guy…”