Table for Seven (41 page)

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Authors: Whitney Gaskell

Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Sagas

BOOK: Table for Seven
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“You do?” she sniffled.

“I do,” he said, and he lifted her hand and kissed it.

THE SUN WAS SETTING in ribbons of pink and orange as Coop steered his boat back toward the dock. It had been a good day out; he’d caught three red snapper early, which were now in the cooler, and then had spent the rest of the afternoon sitting in the sun with a beer, Bear at his side, contemplating his life. He had spent most of his adulthood doing exactly what he wanted, when he wanted. He’d dated more
than his share of beautiful women, had professional success in a job he enjoyed, and had the love of a good dog.

This introspection led him to an inevitable conclusion: He had been the world’s biggest schmuck.

He was forty-six years old, well past the age when most men married, had kids, bought a house. They carved turkeys at Thanksgiving and decorated Christmas trees and hid chocolate eggs for Easter egg hunts. They watched bad sitcoms tucked up on the couch with their wives’ feet on their laps. They slowly lost the hair on their heads, and grew it back in their noses and ears, and displayed the pottery pencil holders their kids made them for Father’s Day on their desks. Was it boring and unoriginal and suburban at times? Undoubtedly. But it was a life full of textures and memories, and—above all—a life filled with love.

That was the sort of life he wanted to have with Audrey, he thought. Unfortunately, she was even more damaged than he was. She was so hung up on her late marriage, she had yet to realize that her life was still going on.

“But what can I do? I can’t force her to be with me,” Coop said out loud.

Bear looked at him, adopted the pose of the concerned listener—his brown furry head cocked to one side, his eyes fixed on Coop.

“I know what you’d say if you could talk,” Coop said. “You’d say I didn’t exactly go all out trying to win her over. I mean, I did tell her I love her. But I didn’t make the big gesture. I didn’t hire a sky writer or propose during a nationally televised sporting event. I didn’t even bring her flowers.”

Bear’s tongue unfurled from his mouth, and he began to pant.

“Yeah, I know. Audrey doesn’t seem like the big gesture type. In fact, I’m pretty she she’d think sky writing was tacky. But most women like to be wooed, right? It just seems like there’s a fine line between continuing to woo a woman who’s turned you down cold—twice, no less—and stalking,” Coop continued.

Bear yawned and lay down on the padded boat seat, his head resting on his paws.

“I hear you, buddy. I’m boring myself. And I’m also questioning my sanity, considering I’m looking for love advice from a dog.” The dock came into view, and Coop drove slowly toward it, obeying the speed law and staying in the designated lane for boat traffic.

He basically had two choices. He could either take one more run at Audrey—and this time with a little more flair than just barging in on her at work and blurting out that he was in love with her—or let it go and move on. The first option was scary. But the second was worse.

“I guess I’ll go with the big gesture,” Coop said, although by now Bear was asleep, snoring softly, and thus unable to offer any more canine advice.

The question remained: What should he do? The person he would normally have gone to for advice was Fran, but that was out of the question for obvious reasons. He hadn’t even been able to bring himself to talk to Will since the night Franny had come over and offered herself up to him. There was no way Will would find out about it—he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him, and he sincerely doubted Fran ever would, either—but Coop still felt guilty about it. He must have led Fran on without realizing he was doing it. Either that, or he just oozed sex appeal, which, now that he thought about it, was hardly his fault.

Where is all of this excessive, out-of-my-control sex appeal when it comes to Audrey? Or is she somehow impervious to it?
Coop wondered.

Coop pulled up to the dock, cut his motor, and deftly jumped out of the boat to moor it to the dock. There were quite a few people milling around, who, like him, were coming back from late afternoon tours. Coop was too busy settling in his boat to pay them any attention.

“Hi,” a voice said.

Coop looked up. He blinked. Audrey was standing there, a large black scarf wrapped around her shoulders to ward off the evening chill. She was holding a leash, at the other end of which was a familiar-looking bulldog.

“Nice dog,” Coop said.

Bear jumped out of the boat, padded over to the bulldog, and gave him a thorough sniffing over, which the bulldog tolerated amicably.

“This is Winston,” Audrey said. “He belonged to Leland.”

“How did you end up with him?”

“Neither of Leland’s sons could take him, so I offered. I’d been thinking about getting a dog, anyway. And he’s good company, although he has an awful snoring problem.”

“And you just happen to be out taking Winston for a walk on the dock?”

“No.” Audrey hesitated. “I was looking for you.”

“How did you know where to find me?” Coop asked.

“I asked the manager at your apartment building. Fred, right? Fred said that this is where you keep your boat,” Audrey said. She frowned. “Actually, you should probably have a talk with him about it. He really shouldn’t give out information about tenants to complete strangers.”

Coop made a mental note to give Fred a very large tip at Christmas.

“I’ll do that,” he said. “But how did you know what time I’d be here? I had no idea when I was coming in, so there’s no way Fred would know.”

“I’ve been waiting.”

“For how long?”

“A while.”

“A long while?” Coop pressed. Happiness began unfurling inside of him.

“Define
long
.”

“Hours?”

“Look, why does it matter?” Audrey asked. She was starting to look flustered, and she drew her black scarf around her.

“It’s the big gesture,” Coop said. “Waiting on the dock for a sailor’s return.” He grinned cheekily. “It’s almost poetic.”

“And I’m starting to regret it,” Audrey said, rolling her eyes. She pointed over her shoulder. “Maybe I should leave you and your ego alone?”

“No, don’t do that,” Coop said, stepping closer to Audrey. “I was just coming to find you.”

Her eyes were large and, in the waning light, so dark they almost looked black. Coop brushed her hair back from her cheek, and tucked it behind her ear. He took it as a good sign that she didn’t bat his hand away.

“You were?” she asked softly.

Coop nodded. “I was coming to make the big gesture. It was going to either sweep you off your feet or get me arrested for stalking.”

Audrey’s lips twitched. “What was this big gesture?”

“I have no idea. I was going to improvise on my way over to your place,” Coop said.

“Wow. That’s really not at all impressive,” Audrey said.

“No, it was going to be good. Like, climbing-up-the-side-of-your-building-with-a-bouquet-of-roses good,” Coop said.

“That would probably land you in the hospital with a broken back,” Audrey said.

“I see your point. Maybe I would have thrown stones at your window, and then when you came out, serenaded you,” Coop suggested. He took another step closer to Audrey and put both hands on her waist.

“Can you sing?”

“Not at all.”

“Hmm.”

“I think you should be more supportive of my big romantic gesture,” Coop said, leaning forward, so that his nose was only inches away from hers. Her cheeks were pink from the cool air and her lashes were very long.

“I think you should come up with a better idea.”

“I could recite poetry. ‘She walks in beauty like the night.’ That sort of thing.”

“Mmm, I like that,” Audrey said. “How does the rest of it go?”

Coop hesitated. “Actually, I have no idea.”

Audrey laughed. Coop leaned forward and kissed her. He felt Audrey relax into his arms, warm and light, a perfect fit. After a long, long time, he leaned back and looked down at her.

“Give me some time, and I’ll come up with something better,” he said. “Wait, I know. How about a trip to Paris?”

“I was going to suggest a bottle of wine and a nice dinner of whatever you caught out there today. But now that Paris is on the table, maybe I should set my standards higher,” Audrey said, grinning up at him.

“You got it,” Coop said. “All of it.”

january

SPAGHETTI CARBONARA
MIXED GREEN SALAD WITH
ROQUEFORT VINAIGRETTE
GARLIC BREAD
BLACK-BOTTOM CUPCAKES

 

 

 

 

I
KNOW SPAGHETTI CARBONARA isn’t exciting, but I thought we could all use some comfort food,” Fran explained to Jaime and Audrey, as they watched her dice shallots.

“I don’t see why we shouldn’t start up the Table for Seven Club again,” Audrey said. “Leland wouldn’t mind us going on. In fact, I think it would make him happy to know that we were getting together once a month and eating bacon.”

“Yeah, that would be a lot of fun for me,” Jaime said. “Two couples and me. We could just rename it the Fifth Wheel Club.”

Fran and Audrey both laughed, and Audrey said, “Trust me, I’ve been there.”

“I know. I’ve only been single for, what? Six weeks? In fact, I won’t even technically be single until my divorce goes through,” Jaime said. She sighed, and took a sip of her champagne.

“What are you going to do about the house?” Fran asked.

“Sell it,” Jaime said.

“Oh, no, that’s too bad,” Audrey said sympathetically. “You did such a beautiful job on it.”

“Thanks, but even if I could afford it, it’s too much work keeping it up. And now that I’m working again, time is not something I have a lot of. I think the kids and I will be happier in a smaller house. It will be more relaxing. More freeing,” Jaime said.

“Good Lord, who are you and what did you do with my
friend Jaime?” Fran asked. “The type-A perfectionist we all knew and loved? And, to be honest, also hated a little.”

Jaime laughed. “I was pretty obnoxious, wasn’t I? You-all don’t even know the half of it. I ironed my sheets. All of them, even the kids’. And I had a special labeled shelf for each size set.”

“You did not,” Audrey said.

“And how on earth did you have the time?” Fran asked.

“I did. I never let anyone see my linen closet, though, because I knew it would out me as being a complete freak,” Jaime said. “And I never slept much. Although these days, I can’t seem to stay awake. I went to bed at eight o’clock last night. Do you think I’m depressed?”

“You don’t seem depressed,” Fran said. “If anything, you seem more relaxed. Divorce clearly agrees with you.”

“I don’t know. I’m already tired of taking out the garbage. That was always Mark’s job. And I’ve had some seriously bad days mixed in. But I think I am rallying. Or, at least, I’m trying to,” Jaime said, raising her chin a fraction.

“I think once the word is out among the Ocean Falls bachelors that you’re available, you’ll be snapped up quickly,” Fran said.

Jaime raised a hand, as though to ward off an evil wish. “Don’t even say it. I don’t ever want to get married again. Life is far, far simpler without a man involved. Even if it means having to drag the trash cans to the curb twice a week myself.”

Audrey looked thoughtful and took a sip of her wine. “You feel that way now. But you may change your mind, eventually. Look at me.”

Two heads swiveled to face Audrey, who was taking another sip of her wine.

“Um … do you have some news for us?” Fran asked.

Audrey tilted her head to one side, and then, realizing what Fran was asking, she burst out laughing. “Oh, God, no, I see how that sounded. No, Coop and I aren’t getting married. At least, not anytime soon. I just meant that I always said I had no interest in dating again after Ryan, and life proved me wrong.”

“You mean I proved you wrong,” Fran said. She scraped the shallots into a dish with the blade of her chef’s knife, and began to dice the pancetta.

“What are you talking about? You were against Coop and I in the beginning,” Audrey said.

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