Know what you’re looking for before you
begin dating. As with a spontaneous shopping
spree, if you don’t have a goal in mind, you’ll
come home with the wrong thing.
—Excerpt from
Finding Mr. Right-for-You
by Dr. Kate
It was dark by the time they unloaded Kate’s belongings in the cottage. She plugged in her treadmill, which they’d squeezed into a corner of the living room. From here she had a good view out the front window and could watch the news too.
As she contemplated her surroundings, Bo brushed against Kate’s legs as if trying to guide her toward the sofa.
“He wants you to sit down and pet him,” Lucas said.
“Why is his fur discolored under his mouth?”
Lucas rubbed Bo behind the ears. “Drool yellows the fur.” He disappeared into the kitchen, Bo plodding behind him.
Kate grimaced.
I had to ask.
She turned on the treadmill, making sure it worked, then straightened the square pillows on the couch. She’d tried to tidy up a bit, and now that the floor was clutter free, she saw the nice rug that covered the oak floors. Too bad it was covered in dog hair.
Bo ambled back and plopped down by the fireplace, watching her, his huge, shaggy head cocked. His white hair hung like a dirty mop over his eyes. At least he didn’t smell.
“You didn’t tell me Bo was so big,” Kate called.
“He’s a sheepdog,” Lucas called from the kitchen, as if that explained it.
“I thought that was like a miniature Lassie. I wasn’t expecting a” —there was no call to be rude—“a large dog.” Kate stepped past Bo and surveyed the room. Even clean, it felt tiny. The treadmill looked mammoth against the sand-colored wall.
“That’s a Shetland sheepdog. He’s an Old English sheepdog.” Lucas was in the kitchen doorway, two steps away. He extended a cut-glass vase filled with white daisies. “These are for you.”
Kate didn’t know what to say. “What for?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Our one-week anniversary.” Was that a flush climbing his cheeks? “It’s silly.”
The gesture took her aback. “No, it’s very . . . sweet.” The petals were satin smooth, the stems and leaves clean and groomed. She wondered where he’d gotten them. And when; they’d been together most of the day. “Daisies are my favorite.”
“I know.”
Kate was sure she hadn’t mentioned it on their honeymoon. Even Bryan had always sent orchids for special occasions just because they were most expensive.
Lucas gestured toward the flowers. “You always have them on your desk at work.”
She stopped at Flowers on Chestnut for a fresh bouquet every Monday morning after getting her latte. Having fresh daisies perked up the office and inspired her. Strange that he’d noticed. She remembered the daisies he’d etched on the gazebo. She’d thought it a coincidence.
“Well, thank you,” she said. “I’ll set them on the kitchen table between the salt and pepper shakers.”
“I’ll do it.”
As he returned, Kate yawned. It was getting late, and there was no delaying bedtime. Besides, if she hoped to be asleep when Lucas retired, she needed an early start.
“I think I’ll turn in now,” she said.
Lucas sank into the recliner and flipped on the TV. Bo curled up at his feet. “’Night. Let me know if you need anything.”
Kate stood awkwardly for a moment, but it looked as if Lucas was engrossed in what he was watching.
Well, okay then.
After completing her beauty regimen and brushing and flossing, Kate changed into her pajamas. She surveyed the bed and felt something cold wedge between her ribs.
I can do this. I can. No big deal.
She snorted at the thought.
Yeah, right. I’m about to climb into the bed of a man I barely know. And he’s going to climb in later.
Her eyes fell on a worn quilt crumpled between the bed and wall. She retrieved it, spread it across the bed, then rolled it like a giant burrito. Next, she laid it down the center of the bed as a barrier between the two sides.
There, that should do it.
Kate clicked off Lucas’s lamp and rounded the bed, settling on her side. The sheets were soft and cool against her skin, the mattress giving slightly to her weight.
She turned her face into the pillow and immediately regretted it. It smelled faintly of Lucas, all musk and woodsy. Even here, she couldn’t escape him.
She thought of the daisies and chided herself for thinking ill of him. He was trying. It wasn’t his fault they were so different. Or even that they were stuck together for a year. In fact, he’d saved her life, and she should be grateful. He’d salvaged her book and her career.
She’d called Pam twice from the White Elephant, and Rosewood was thrilled with the wedding publicity. Several cable network shows wanted Kate to make an appearance. Rosewood was talking about a possible book tour, and Pam had scheduled numerous phone interviews with radio shows and newspapers. Kate wondered how she’d keep up with her articles and find time to write another book.
No matter, though. If the publicity sold book one, it would be worth it. And at least she would still have her office space to work in since Lucas hadn’t rented it out yet.
She thought of Lucas’s family and wondered how she was going to find time to help his parents’ marriage. She’d sensed the tension between Susan and Roy. Maybe she could find an activity to do with Susan. It would give them time to talk.
Kate turned and pulled the quilt over her chilled shoulder. It was quieter here than in town. If she listened closely, she could hear the water hitting the shore, and a clock ticking somewhere. The TV program Lucas was watching barely filtered into the room, and a slit of light from the living room underlined the door.
What time would he retire? She hoped he kept to his own side of the bed. Judging by the rumpled sheets she’d found upon her arrival, she had her doubts. He was used to having the whole bed.
Kate was too, but she planned on hugging the edge all night.
If I ever fall asleep.
She rolled over again and resituated the pillow. She’d already made a to-do list for tomorrow, which usually freed her mind to sleep. She was tired, so that wasn’t the issue.
As it had all week during quiet moments, her thoughts turned to Bryan. Kate hadn’t called him again, nor had he called. She supposed there was no reason to expect him to. She shouldn’t even want him to.
But feelings didn’t flip off like a light switch. She wondered if he’d seen the photo and article in the
New York Times
. Part of her regretted not telling him her marriage was temporary. The other part hoped it sowed seeds of jealousy.
He’s not jealous; he’s with another woman. I’m the one who’s jealous.
She didn’t want to dwell on it anymore. The sound of the woman’s voice when she’d answered the phone, the rustling of covers before Bryan spoke. It was torturous.
Think about something else.
Kate turned her thoughts to her book and upcoming
Dr. Phil
appearance. Ten seconds later, she was thinking of the daisies on the kitchen table.
Ah, we’ve come full circle.
And I’m still awake.
Kate was about to shift when the door opened. She lay still, not daring to open her eyes. She heard the whoosh of something dropping to the floor. Then another whoosh.
He was
not
undressing!
Seconds later, the mattress sagged under his weight. The force of it nearly pulled her to the center, but she braced herself on the edge. The bed shimmied, and the covers shifted as he slid under them. His foot brushed hers, and she fought the urge to pull away. How had it gotten past the barrier?
Breathe deeply. I’m asleep.
When he finally stilled, the only sound was the ticking clock and the waves. And her own breath. She could even hear her heart. Her arm, pushed under her pillow, ached, but she didn’t move. How awkward would it be if he realized she was awake and started a conversation? What was he wearing over there, anyway? She was afraid to know.
Kate opened her eyes and stared at the big lump beside her. He was facing the other way, and already his breathing had evened out. Not fair. How long would she lie awake? Why couldn’t she go to sleep?
She tried to think about her book, about next week’s article, about anything other than the very male body inches away. Her skin prickled with heat, and she wished she could throw off the covers.
A few minutes later, a quick snort pierced the silence. Three seconds later a long grating snore sounded.
And he’s off to the races.
Kate closed her eyes on a sigh.
Communication is the thread that holds
the relationship together. If it’s not there,
everything unravels.
—Excerpt from
Finding Mr. Right-for-You
by Dr. Kate
Lucas pushed open his parents’ door, and Kate entered the bright two-story cottage. She could only hope his family didn’t enter his house as freely. They were seventeen minutes late—a fact that didn’t seem to bother Lucas at all. How a man could be late when he’d done nothing but piddle around all morning, Kate had no clue.
Inside the door, an oval braided rug covered aged wooden planks, and daylight poured in from the transom over the door. Voices and clattering pans sounded from the back of the house, and the smell of fried chicken beckoned.
“We’re here,” Lucas called, shutting the door.
Jamie scurried into the cozy foyer and hugged Kate first. “Hi, Kate. Hi, Lucas.”
They followed Jamie into the cheery yellow kitchen where Roy drained skinless potatoes in a strainer over the porcelain sink. Susan, her tiny frame wrapped in a lavender apron, turned from the stove long enough to give a brisk nod and say hello.
Jamie disappeared, and for the next few minutes Lucas made small talk with his parents before Roy shooed them from the kitchen. “Go on up and get settled. The kids are already up there.”
“What should I get you to drink?” Susan asked Kate.
“Whatever you have is fine . . .”
Susan’s penciled-in eyebrows hiked, clearly indicating she was waiting for a better answer.
“She likes tea, Mom, sweetened.” Lucas stared pointedly at his mom, giving Kate a moment’s gratification. He was actually taking up for her. Strangely, the notion lifted her spirits.
He took her hand, and Kate followed him through the foyer and up the stairs. The banister was thick and swirled at the end. “Why are we going upstairs?” Kate asked halfway up the flight.
He made the turn at the landing and continued. “We eat on the widow’s walk.”
A mental picture of the two-story house formed. Kate vaguely remembered a large widow’s walk on the top, an historical feature of many Nantucket homes dating back to the whaling days.
Her legs wobbled, not from exertion, and her fingers tightened on the banister. “You eat on the roof?”
They reached the second floor and he took another flight of stairs, this one narrow and steep. Their feet thudded on the hollow wooden steps.
“It’s tradition.”
Tradition. That explained it all. He could have mentioned that little detail earlier. Didn’t he know she was—
The dark stairwell opened to bright blue sky. And vast views of the island. High, vast views. Kate stepped to the side, keeping to the brick chimney chase.
Jamie and Brody greeted them from a round table, set for six, and centered on the square wooden platform. A spindled railing encompassed the perch. Lucas pulled out a chair for her on the other side of the table.
“I think I’ll sit over here if you don’t mind.” Kate smiled at Lucas’s sister. “By Jamie.” As if that was her sole reason.
Lucas sat beside her. “Good idea. This is where the view’s at.”
For the first time, Kate looked outward. Her only thought had been keeping the solid brick of the chimney at her back, but now that she looked up, all she saw was open sky and the ocean spread out far below, disappearing into the horizon. She put her hands on the table and twisted the rings on her finger.
“Can I see?” Jamie asked, gesturing toward her wedding set. Okay, not a set exactly since Bryan had purchased one and Lucas the other. Luckily they were both white gold.
Jamie touched the emerald-cut diamond with her index finger. “Pretty. I didn’t know Luc had such good taste.”
“Or that he would part with that kind of cash,” Brody said.
Kate and Lucas traded a look. “She’s worth it,” Lucas said.
“I read all your columns,” Jamie said. “I can’t believe you married Luc.”
Lucas’s chair creaked as he shifted. “Thanks a heap, sis.” He tugged at his sister’s high ponytail.
“You know what I mean,” Jamie said.
Kate leaned back until her hair snagged on the brick behind her. “Shouldn’t we help your parents? I feel bad just sitting here.” Actually she felt bad about sitting up here period, and helping downstairs would get her off this bird perch.
And put you in the ring with your new mother-in-law.
“Mom likes to wait on everyone,” Jamie said.
“If you go down, Dad’ll just shoo you away.” Brody shook his curls out of his eyes.
“How did school finish up this year?” Lucas asked.
“He’s thinking of switching majors again.” Jamie snickered.
“Shut up, squirt.” Brody elbowed her. “Mom and Dad don’t know yet,” he warned them.
The wind blew across the roof, ruffling the red plastic tablecloth, and Kate grasped the arms of the lawn chair. What kind of family ate on the roof?
“What do you want to switch to?” Lucas asked.
Brody planted his elbows on the table. “Architecture.”
The sound of approaching footsteps halted the conversation. Susan entered, balancing a tray that held a pitcher of iced tea and six glasses. Lucas took the tray and set it down for Susan to pour the drinks. The ice cubes crackled as the tea splashed over them.