Authors: Barbara Bretton
Just Like Heaven (25 page)
Kate felt her cheeks redden. “Thanks. A good night’s sleep can do wonders.”
“So can sex,” her mother said with her usual blunt honesty. “He might be a priest but he’s still a man. I hope you used protection.”
“Mom!” Now she sounded like Gwynn. “Last week you asked me if I was in perimenopause.”
“There are reasons besides birth control to use a condom, Kate.”
What twisted fate decreed she would be having a birds-and-bees conversation with her mother twice in one lifetime?
“We haven’t had sex. I can’t even think about sex until I have my stress test.”
It’s been so long I’m not even sure I remember
how
to have sex.
It’s been so long I’m not even sure I remember
how
to have sex.
“Judging by that smile on your face, I think you should call Dr. Lombardi and find out.”
Her mother had a point but she refused to acknowledge it. “Any oatmeal left?”
“In the saucepan. Want me to nuke it for you?”
“I’ll do it.” She spooned the oatmeal into a bowl and popped it into the microwave for forty seconds. “By the way, I asked Mark over for supper.”
That got her mother’s attention. “I was going to throw together a salad and some soup.”
“That’s fine. I’ll pop some bread into the machine when I get back and figure out what to do about dessert.”
“You could stop by the bakery,” Maeve suggested, “and get more of those brownies.”
“No,” Kate said. “I want to make something myself.”
She ignored Maeve’s comment about hell freezing over and sat down with her oatmeal and the bread machine cookbook.
“You said yes to Gwynn, didn’t you?” Maeve asked as she popped a blank CD into her drive and pressed a few buttons. “She really wants to thank Mark for what he did.”
“I think she wants us to see her and Andrew together and give our familial seal of approval.”
“And you’re not inclined to give it.”
“I don’t have any bad feelings toward Andrew. He seemed like a nice enough young man. I just don’t think he’s right for my daughter.”
“Try to keep an open mind,” Maeve urged. “Don’t say things you’ll regret. There’s a chance Andrew is going to become part of our family, and you don’t want to get off to a bad start.”
Kate looked down at her bowl of oatmeal, sans cream, sans sugar, and sighed. “You know I hate it when you’re right, don’t you?”
“Of course I do,” Maeve said.
It started small.
Mark came over for supper on Saturday night. Sonia and Liz happened to drop by. Two of Maeve’s oldest friends came over for coffee and a friendly game of cards. Before either Mark or Kate realized what was happening, the carriage house was filled with people laughing, talking, playing cards, drinking coffee, getting to know each other.
And checking out Father McDreamy.
Kate quickly lost track of the number of thumbs-up signs flashed across the room by matchmaking married friends who were dying to hook her up with Mark, who was definitely the center of attention. No surprise there. He had the kind of presence that drew the eye, a combination of physical beauty and strength of character that was irresistible.
The next day they drove over to Pennsylvania for dinner at Scott and Marcy’s house. The small dinner for four had expanded without their knowledge to include Ann and her husband Charlie, and Matty and Lynn. Kate quickly realized they were all members of the same AA group that Mark led near New Hope, and she found herself impressed by the sense of family that had developed between them and their spouses.
She was also impressed by the deep regard and affection they had for Mark and listened avidly as they tried to persuade him to stay in the New Jersey/Pennsylvania area and forsake his New Hampshire roots.
“You’re tempted, aren’t you?” she asked as they wound their way along country roads on their way back to her house.
“More than ever.” He kept his eyes on the dark and winding ribbon of road. “I’ve got to admit I never saw you coming.”
“You weren’t on my radar screen either, clergyman.”
“I wish—”
She shook her head. “It is what it is. You have to go back. We both know that. Why waste time debating a done deal?”
Of course her words might have been a whole lot more effective if she hadn’t started to cry immediately afterward, but those were the breaks.
“Ignore the waterworks,” she ordered him, sniffling into a paper napkin she found in his glove box. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not crying half as much as I was last week.”
“That’s like quantifying the ocean.”
“You’re going to miss these operatic crying jags when they’re gone.”
“I’m going to miss you.”
He reached for her hand and held it tight the rest of the way home.
The night of Gwynn’s partyThere was no point to taking separate cars, so Kate, Mark, Maeve, two bottles of Shiraz, two bottles of Pepsi, two bottles of ginger ale, a case of bottled water, and one gorgeous chocolate cheesecake shoehorned themselves into his Honda for the long ride down to Paradise Point.
“I hope your parish in New Hampshire supplies a car,” Maeve said as she settled in the backseat next to the bags of food. “This one looks like spring break in Fort Lauderdale.”
Kate shot her mother a warning look, but Mark just laughed.
“This old girl’s indestructible,” he said as he waited for Kate to buckle up. “I thought she would give up the ghost when the odometer rolled past two hundred thousand miles but we’re at two-fifty and still climbing.” He turned the key and the engine sprang to life. “If she doesn’t give up on me, why should I give up on her?”
“That’s probably the most deeply romantic sentiment I’ve ever heard a man express,” Maeve said. “I just wish it weren’t for a car.”
Mark and Kate laughed, but Maeve was on a roll.
“Oh no,” Kate said. “She whipped out her battery-operated keyboard. The Muse has landed.”
Maeve proceeded to interview Mark on everything including religion, sex, and the deep and passionate relationship between American men and their cars. Kate mounted a fake protest, but she was hanging on every word and intended to demand a transcript from her mother when they got home.
The sign welcoming them to Paradise Point seemed to pop up before they knew it.
“Paradise Point reminds me of Cape May,” Mark said as they rolled down Main Street. “Great town.”
“They’re rebuilding,” Maeve said. “They have a way to go, but it’s definitely catching on with the tourist trade.”
Kate swiveled around to look at her mother. “You seem to know a lot about this town. Has Gwynn been sending you brochures?”
The spacious Victorian bed-and-breakfasts gave way to retail stores that, in turn, gave way to bait shops, boat rentals, O’Malley’s Dockside, and her daughter’s home.
“Oh God,” Kate said as they parked adjacent to the tiny bungalow teetering at the water’s edge. “It’s worse than I thought.”
“It’s charming,” Maeve said. “Very atmospheric.”
“I hope they’re insured. A stiff wind will knock them into the water.”
“You two go ahead,” Mark said. “I’ll unload the car.”
“Remember what I told you,” Maeve warned as they approached the front door. “That young man may be part of our family for the next fifty years. If you can’t be happy for them, fake it.”
“I thought you said women should never fake it.”
“This isn’t sex. This is parenthood.”
Kate straightened her shoulders, smoothed down her hair, and plastered on her game face as the front door swung open.
“Come on in,” Paul said, raising a Corona in greeting. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
Nineteen
It was clear to anyone with eyes that Paul was in a particularly contentious mood.
Kate pulled him aside as Maeve introduced Mark around. “Knock it off,” she said. “Lose the attitude or climb behind the wheel of that monster-mobile of yours and go back to Manhattan where you belong.”
He didn’t deny the obvious. “What happened to those tears of joy you’ve been crying lately?”
“You know I love you, pal, but this is Gwynn’s day and I’m not going to let you screw it up with any ridiculous macho posturing.”
“It’s not too late to get into law school, French. With a mouth like that, you’d end up one of the Supremes.”
Kate opened her mouth to say something blistering as Maeve marched up to them in full maternal mode. “I’ve been breaking up your fights since grade school. How about we give peace a chance and join the rest of the party?”
“Your daughter’s in a bad mood,” Paul said. “All I did was open the front door.”
“With a Corona in your hand,” Kate shot back. “Tell him he should go home before he ruins everything.”
Maeve, experienced in the art of peaceful coexistence, placed her hand under Kate’s elbow. “Gwynnie!” she called out. “Where’s that guided tour you promised us?”
The guided tour took less than three minutes, but it did break up the fight.
“You could make breakfast without getting out of bed,” Kate whispered to Maeve.
“It’s cozy,” Maeve said, ever the optimist when it came to love.
Any cozier, Kate thought, and they might as well live in a furnished closet. If possible, the house was even tinier on the inside than it appeared from the outside. You couldn’t turn around in the kitchen without bumping into yourself. And God forbid you needed to use the bathroom, because that required a somersault across the double bed and some fancy footwork once you got there.
And Gwynn, her materialistic, spoiled daughter, seemed oblivious to it all. She was glowing with happiness and so, Kate had to admit, was Andrew.
Not to mention his brother, Don, and their mother, Joanne, who arrived seconds before Ed. If she didn’t know better, she would have guessed they’d all been enjoying a nitrous oxide cocktail.
“Good thing Marie stayed home,” Ed whispered to Kate as they helped themselves to some iced tea. “We’d have to sit on the roof.”
“You’re Gwynn’s parents, aren’t you?” Joanne joined them near the living room window. She grabbed Kate’s hands and gave her a kiss on both cheeks. “I can’t believe all you’ve been through! You’d never know it to look at you. Isn’t medical science incredible?”
Kate cast around for the right thing to say, but Joanne was too fast for her.
Joanne angled her body away from Ed and lowered her voice. “Did that gorgeous priest really save your life? Andy told me the story, but I have to say I didn’t believe it. It sounded like something straight out of Hollywood.”
“Mark really saved my life,” Kate said. “I wouldn’t be standing here right now if he hadn’t come along when he did.”
Joanne sighed loudly. “I may stop taking my Procardia.”
Kate burst into laughter, and Joanne wasn’t far behind.
“I told Andy you two would like each other.” Gwynn joined them, her face flushed with happiness and heat from the kitchen. “I was right!”
“Gwynnie!” Maeve called out. “What do I do with these steamers?”
“Steamers!” Joanne’s face lit up. “Let me help.”
Gwynn and her maybe-possibly future mother-in-law dashed the ten steps to the kitchen, where Maeve was staring down a giant bucket of sandy clams. They looked so comfortable, the three of them together in the postage-stamp kitchen. Happy and friendly and
(Go ahead, Kate, admit it)
so much like family that Kate had to turn away toward the window, where Ed was still standing with his iced tea.
(Go ahead, Kate, admit it)
so much like family that Kate had to turn away toward the window, where Ed was still standing with his iced tea.
“This could be us twenty-five years ago,” he said.
“This was never us.” Kate took a sip of tea. “We leaped from high school to parenthood without passing Go.”
“I think we did pretty well for ourselves, don’t you, Katie? We had some good years.”
Her eyes filled with tears and she blinked quickly. She had it down to a science. “We had some great years, all things considered.”
“All things considered?”
“Considering we were never in love with each other.”
“There was love there,” he said softly. “Always.”
“You know what I mean.”
Of course he did. There was a world of difference between loving and being in love. He had found that kind of can’t-live-without-you love when he met Marie and had been smart enough to hang on.
“Yeah,” he said, draping an arm around her shoulders. “I know what you mean.”
She had never envied her ex-husband more than she did at that moment or wished him greater happiness.
The sound of their daughter’s laughter drew their attention.
“Gwynn and Andy don’t look old enough to vote,” Ed said with a shake of his head.
“They’re six years older than we were when she was born.”
“And we all survived. Gotta be a miracle in there somewhere.”
She put her glass down on the windowsill. “Congratulations on the new baby. Gwynn told me the news.”
“We weren’t going to tell anyone until Marie had the sonogram but—” He shrugged but his pride and excitement were clearly evident. “Good news has a life of its own.”
She tried to imagine herself in Marie’s shoes, forty-one and pregnant, and to her surprise it wasn’t that bad a fit. Those had been happy years.
“Boy or girl?” she asked.
“We’re old-fashioned,” Ed said. “We don’t mind waiting to find out.”
“I wouldn’t want to know either. Some things are worth waiting for.”
Ed gave her a quizzical look. “Are you thinking about having a child?”
“No,” she said, laughing. “Of course not. I mean, I just came out of the cardiac unit. I’m still working my way up to driving alone.”
“You’re a great mother,” he said, and once again her eyes filled with tears. “You still have time to start a second family.”
“Single, middle-aged mother of an infant?” She pretended to shudder. “I’m not brave enough for that.”
“An Episcopal priest,” Ed said, a teasing but affectionate glint in his eyes. “You could do worse.”
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