As part of trying to figure out what niche my newest MS would fit into in the Harlequin world, I’ve been reading a few Harlequins of the various lines. I figured, considering she’s a member of TRW who taught me a lot at one of the very first TRW meetings I attended, I’d support Molly O’Keefe and bought her latest SuperRomance – A Man Worth Keeping.
Delia Dupuis has found the perfect place to take cover. The secluded inn on the banks of the Hudson River is the last place her ex would think to look for her. Here she can plan her next step, then move on with no ties.
Too bad the inn’s handyman, Max Mitchell, is making her rethink leaving. His steady ways and his indulgent treatment of her daughter tempt her to stay, to explore this heat between them. But can she risk endangering him with the secrets she carries?
When those secrets catch up with her, Delia discovers Max is a good man worth trusting with her daughter, her life…and her love.
I am almost to the end and I reach a point where Max’s father, Patrick, is talking with Delia and he says something that just left me in tears. I hope Molly doesn’t mind if I post it here …
“Our kids learn so much from us. How to read. How to behave. How to think about the world. But you know what I just figured out. They also learn how to be happy from us.”
I wish I could hand this to my mother and say “Read this!” It took me until I was in my mid-30s to learn that my parents’ venom wasn’t mine. It’s something I think should be tacked on every parents’ refrigerator, should be handed out in prenatal classes.
I love books that can be on many levels, that can be about a romance, but we can learn from as well. Molly’s A Man Worth Keeping is going on my keeper shelf – and I’ll be buying more of hers.
As I was writing this post, I realized that maybe there’s a corollary for the kids when they grow up.
Your parents’ anger isn’t yours. Because they choose to stay mired in negativity, doesn’t mean you have to wallow in the swamp beside them. You can free yourself of the jesses your parents knotted around your ankles, holding you to the ground; you can spread your wings and fly above those clouds to find the sun.
Okay, that’s probably a little deep – and gives you a hint that my mother has been after me again with the guilt stick. But Molly’s book reminds me to make sure I don’t tie my kids down with my own self-doubts and depression. That I have to remember to laugh and enjoy life – and make sure my boys do too.