Maid for Love (A Romantic Comedy) by Caroline Mickelson Page A

do. It's my decision how I handle my future, not yours."
    "But your Aunt Matilda, who I might remind you has a gift not unlike yours, told me that you aren't going to be able to erase Michael's memory. You're up against something too powerful. I think she's right. It didn't work before and it's not going to work when you try it again."
    Zoe pulled into the parking lot with more than a little relief. This was not a conversation she wanted to continue. She put the car in park and shifted in her seat so she could face her mother. "Here's what's going to happen. We are going to go in there and have a lovely evening. Good food, good conversation, great company, nothing more. That's it. One lovely evening. So please don't say or do anything to jeopardize what is simply a nice family dinner. That's all I ask. Can you promise me that much?"
    In answer, Marlene got out of the car, slammed the passenger door shut, and headed into the restaurant without a backwards glance at her daughter.
     

CHAPTER NINE
    Zoe could not have been more on edge during dinner if they'd all been dining on a rickety bridge overlooking shark infested waters. Not that the food wasn't delicious, it was. Despite the influence of surf on the menu, the entire group opted for turf and enjoyed a round of top sirloin steaks. The restaurant's retro country club ambiance was charming and the wait staff was top-notch. Best of all was how much Josh, Kathryn, and Marlene, appeared to be enjoying each others company. Michael was a charming and gracious host. All of this, Zoe realized, should have made the evening perfect.
    So why then did she feel perfectly miserable? 
    The trip to Nantucket hadn't turned out at all like she'd planned. It had seemed so simple in theory. But now she felt consumed with guilt for thinking only of herself. She'd been selfish enough to set this all up because she'd wanted one more weekend with Michael. But it wasn't enough because it wasn't forever.
    She looked up from the steak she'd been pushing around her plate and met Michael's gaze across the table.
    "Are you okay, sweetheart?" His voice was rich and warm, full of concern.
    All conversation at the table ceased as everyone looked at her.
    "Is something wrong, Zoe?" Kathryn's expression was just as concerned as her uncle's.
    "You've been quiet," Josh added.
    Marlene pushed back her chair and got to her feet. "There's nothing wrong with Zoe that a moment outside with her mother won't fix." She came around to Zoe's chair and slid a hand under her daughter’s elbow. "Come along, darling."
    Obediently, Zoe got to her feet and followed her mother out onto the restaurant's back deck. A handful of families occupied the tables but they barely glanced over as Zoe and Marlene headed to a quiet corner.
    Her mother spoke first. "Darling, why on earth are you acting like you're at a wake?"
    The description struck Zoe as quite apt. She felt as if she was in mourning for a future that she and Michael weren't going to have. "Because that's just what it feels like."
    Marlene's groan was one of exasperation. "Zoe, can't you see that you can make a choice here? You can decide how your future will turn out." She looked around before leaning closer to her daughter. "Your ability is just that, a special gift. Not a curse, not a burden, and certainly not a life sentence."
    Zoe leaned against the deck railing and focused her gaze on the boats that bobbed in the sea. Her mother made it sound so easy. But that shouldn't come as a surprise, they were two very different women who made very different choices in life. Her mother had given up her gift to marry Zoe's father. While she was glad of it, that didn't negate the pain and suffering her mother experienced after the loss of her husband. Nor did it take away the helplessness Zoe had felt watching her mother struggle to find a way to fill the void in her life.
    "You're not me, Zoe." Her mother's voice had lost its frustrated edge. "If you're thinking what I think