Someone Like You (10 page)

“You did what?”

“I took him down to Ogunquit because those two idiots at the information desk couldn’t figure out how to get the poor guy a cab to the airport.”

“So you drove him down to Ogunquit to find him a cab?”

“Exactly.” She gave Cat a sly look. “And yes, I tried pumping him for personal information, but the man’s a sphinx. I couldn’t even ferret a good Brad Pitt anecdote out of him.”

“Probably because he doesn’t know Brad Pitt.”

“George Clooney. Jude Law. Give me something. The man’s in show business, and he doesn’t know anybody.”

“He’s a writer. He’s not out there on the party circuit. He sits home and writes.”

“I tried to get the four-one-one on the two of you, by the way, but he didn’t seem to know much about that either.”

She hoped she didn’t look half as relieved as she felt. That would be a dead giveaway.

“Any news on Mimi?” Karen asked.

“One of the nurses popped out about a half hour ago. They ran into some trouble repairing her tibia. It might take another hour.”

Karen stood up and slung her bag across her chest. “Let’s hit the cafeteria. I need a good caffeine buzz.”

So did Cat, but she grabbed a bottle of water instead when they got there.

“What’s with the water?” Karen asked as they walked back to surgical waiting. “You’re usually the coffee bean queen.”

Cat shrugged and sidestepped the question. “Have you seen the house?”

“You’ve got yourself some problems, kid.”

“Totaled?”

“No, not totaled, but it’s on the hairy edge.”

“She wasn’t drunk,” Cat said, then took a pull on her water bottle. “Can you believe it? She was stone-cold sober when it happened.”

Karen frowned over her plastic mug of coffee. “Are you sure? I’m positive Randy said she was way over the limit when they brought her in.”

“Pauline in Admitting told me there was no alcohol in her blood work.” She took another swallow of water. “They think she had a small stroke and knocked over the candles when she fell.”

Karen reached over and squeezed her hand. “She’s a strong woman. She’ll be okay.”

Cat let the statement lie there unattended. Even if Mimi came through the surgery with flying colors, she wouldn’t be okay. That much was certain. The house may or may not be salvageable, but even if it was, Mimi couldn’t live there without twenty-four-hour-a-day care. And that was the best of the scenarios rattling around inside her brain.

Time to change the subject.

“I spoke to Joely.”

Karen muttered something unprintable. “She’s not coming back, is she?” Karen’s husband Danny and Joely had been an item in high school, something that still bothered Karen ten years after the fact.

“I don’t know. She’s trying to arrange her schedule but . . .” Fade-out. The conversation with her sister still rankled.

“Zach came in yesterday morning.”

And there was the downside of living in a small town. If you weren’t related to a guy, chances were you had dated him somewhere along the way. Over the years your paths crossed and recrossed, reminding you of all the many roads not taken.

Zach was Karen’s brother-in-law and Cat’s first boyfriend. They had dated briefly in high school, then found each other in college. Away from the constraints of home they discovered they did better as friends than romantic partners.

“How long will he be in town?” Cat asked. “I’d planned to have him over for dinner, but now with Mom, I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“He’ll be here until the first, and then he’s heading back to California.”

“So he’s going to the big golden anniversary party?” The Porters, Karen’s in-laws, were one of the oldest and most prosperous families in Idle Point, a small-town version of the Kennedys if the Kennedys had been farmers.

Karen shrugged. “Who knows? I asked Danny what was going on, but men are lousy when it comes to emotional detail. Zach says he came back to look into some business thing and that the anniversary party is coincidental, but I’m not sure I’m buying it.”

“He never gives up, does he? I can’t believe he’s still trying to get their approval.” Sometimes she thought the world was filled with aging children like herself in search of a thumbs-up from Mommy and Daddy.

“See?” Karen looked triumphant. “You figured it out immediately. Danny doesn’t have a clue. Men are incredibly dense when it comes to families.”

The swinging doors squeaked, and both women looked up as a painfully young nurse poked her head out, glanced around, then ducked back inside.

“What do you think that meant?” Cat asked as the doors swung to a stop.

“Who knows?” Karen said with a shrug. “She didn’t look old enough to drive.”

“Am I crazy, or are there a lot of new people on staff? I’ve been here three hours, and I’ve only seen one nurse I know.”

“Danny told me they hosted six job fairs last year down in New York and D.C.”

“I know we’re supposed to be thrilled that the town’s growing, but we’re going to turn into Village of the Town-house if we’re not careful.”

“Run for mayor,” Karen said. “We need a benevolent despot to keep things under control.”

That led to a spirited discussion of the latest ordinances designed to keep a rein on home-based businesses, a topic near and dear to their hearts. From there it was an easy leap to Karen’s favorite topic—and real love—the twelve sheep and four alpacas that were the core of the business they were building together, much to the dismay of the elder Porters, who had yet to become believers in the profitability of natural fibers over dairy products.

Cat had been away less than two days, but apparently there had been a great deal of activity with Bess and Mamie, their two nursing alpacas, and a minor skirmish between two of their male Romneys.

“The shearing will probably be next weekend,” Karen said as she polished off the last of her coffee. “I finally got the confirmation e-mail. Jack and his crew are driving down from Nova Scotia. They’ll hit three farms before they reach us, so it probably won’t happen until Sunday.” She rolled her eyes. “Or Monday, the latest.”

That led to a discussion of ferry service, which led to a secondary discussion of their choice of fiber processors, which finally led to the question Cat had been dreading.

“So who is he?”

“Michael Yanovsky.”

Karen waved her hand in annoyance. “I already know that. I mean, who
is
he? Where did you meet him?”

“I met him at the HBO office.”

“That’s not good enough. I spend my days making PBJ sandwiches and tending sheep. Some mercy details, please.”

The last thing she wanted to do was lie to her friend, but this didn’t feel like the right time to break the news of her pregnancy.

Cat cast around for neutral ground. “I guess I got a little lightheaded after we hung up. He didn’t think it was safe for me to drive back alone, so he volunteered.”

“You expect me to believe that some stranger you met at the HBO office volunteered to drive you all the way back to Maine?”

“He’s not a stranger. We’ve known each other a couple of years.”

“I figured that when I saw the way he looks at you. So how come I never heard you talk about him before?”

“I know lots of people you’ve never heard me talk about.”

“Details please. What does he write?”

“Screenplays.”

“For
Pink Slip
?”

“No. He writes for—” Good grief. What was wrong with her? She couldn’t even remember the name of the series he had created. “Did I tell you we were having lunch together at Aquavit when you called?”

Bless Karen’s name-dropping heart. “Aquavit? Ohmigod! Isn’t that the restaurant they featured on the Food Network last week?”

Michael was forgotten as Karen peppered her with questions about the chef, the waitstaff, the décor, the cuisine, the ladies’ lounges. Cat described the table linens, the plates, the presentation, the Swedish meatballs she had barely touched. It didn’t occur to her until the bright red swinging doors opened once again and the surgeon emerged that her friend had cleverly managed to divert her attention away from the endless waiting.

The doctor’s paper booties made soft shuffling noises on the shiny tile floor as she approached.

“Which one of you is Mrs. Doyle’s daughter?”

Clearly the doctor had missed a few classes in bedside manner during med school. Cat put down her knitting bag and empty water bottle and stood up. The only advantage she had in situations like this was her height, and she didn’t hesitate to use it. “I am.”

“Mrs. Doyle came through the procedure without incident.” She offered a few cut-and-dried details about Mimi’s pelvis and leg, then turned to leave.

“When can I see her?”

Green glanced up at the wall clock at the opposite end of the hall. “Two, maybe three hours. She’ll be in ICU until at least tomorrow afternoon. A neurologist will be in to see her tomorrow and make a further evaluation.”

“Was it a stroke?”

“Yes, a stroke was involved but, as I said, without further testing, a more detailed diagnosis is impossible.” She glanced down at the pager hooked to the waistband of her pants. “I have to take this.” She vanished behind the swinging doors before Cat could say another word.

“Good thing her patients are unconscious when she sees them,” Karen remarked. “That girl needs to learn how to smile.”

“Didn’t she operate on your father-in-law earlier this year?”

“I didn’t say she wasn’t a good surgeon. It’s her bedside manner that sucks.” Karen picked up her bag from the seat next to her and stood up. “It’s almost nine o’clock. Why don’t you come home with me? I made lentil soup this afternoon. You can eat, be reminded why you’re glad you don’t have children, then come back and see Mimi.”

“I’ll come if you don’t make me eat lentil soup.”

 

 

Annabelle fell asleep seconds after Joely fastened the seat belt around her tiny frame.

“No jitters there,” the flight attendant remarked as she did her final preflight walk-through to make sure everyone was securely buckled up.

“She’s a good traveler,” Joely said with a smile. “She’ll probably sleep all the way to Boston.”

Minutes later they were airborne, climbing through the thin cloud cover into the early morning sky. They reached cruising altitude in no time at all, and the seat belt sign clicked off. She loosened Annabelle’s belt a tad, then draped the sleeping child with one of the blankets the flight attendant had been kind enough to slip to her just before takeoff. Annabelle murmured something and dug deeper into her dreams.

“She’s adorable.” A different flight attendant paused next to her midstride. “Looks just like you.”

She started to demur and offer up the standard two-line explanation she kept on file for occasions like this when it occurred to her that they were hurtling through the air in a tin can some thirty thousand feet above the ground where calories didn’t count and real life was suspended for the length of time it took to get from here to there. She could be anything she wanted, even Annabelle’s mother.

“Thanks,” she said. “I think so, too.”

 

 

Cat spent time in the barn checking on Bess and Mamie while Karen put supper on the table. Danny was working late at the computer shop, and Zach was down in Boston for the night, but the three Porter children saw to it that conversation never lagged.

“Admit it,” Karen said as she walked Cat out to her car. “You’ve never been happier to be single in your life.”

“You know I love them,” Cat said.

“They’re noisy as hell.”

“I won’t argue that. But they’re great kids.”

“You have to say that. You’re their godmother.”

Cat hid a yawn behind her hand. “Sorry. It’s not the company.”

“Listen, do you want me to drive? I’ll drop the kids at the shop with their father, and we’ll go see Mimi together.”

“I’m fine,” she said.

Karen wasn’t convinced. “You haven’t been looking very good,” she said. “I’m worried.”

“My mother just set fire to her house,” Cat said. “How good would you look under the circumstances?”

“Not just now,” Karen said. “I mean the last few weeks.”

“Thanks a lot. If this is your way of telling me I need Botox—”

“You’ve been looking tired.”

“I’m thirty-eight,” she said. “Looking tired comes with the territory.”

“How about the morning sickness? Does that come with the territory, too?”

“I’d better sit down.”

Karen shoved a milking stool under her and Cat sank down onto it.

“So what did the doctor say?”

“How did you know I went to see a doctor?”

“You gave the studio number instead of your cell, and they called to confirm.”

“I was going to tell you,” she said, “but I wanted to wait until I was past the first trimester.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation.”

“Michael’s the father, by the way.” She gave Karen a tired grin. “Not that you asked.”

“I didn’t have to ask,” Karen said. “All I had to do was see the way you looked at him.”

“Don’t go reading too much into things,” she warned her friend. “We both have our own lives.”

“Good,” Karen said. “I’m glad to hear it. Just tell me you’re not moving, and I don’t care if you and Michael have triplets.”

“I’m not moving.”

“Are you having triplets?”

She laughed and gave Karen a playful kick with the toe of her sandal. “I hope not.”

“You’re happy?” Karen asked, growing suddenly serious. “I mean, this is something you want?”

“Yes to both,” Cat said. “I’m very happy, and this baby is very wanted.”