At some point, I would learn to not assume anything when it came to Kai.
“You saw Nirvana live?” Cibele squealed and bounced while I told stories about seeing shows in Seattle.
“And The Cure.” I smiled at her.
“I want to see one of their concerts, but my parents say I’m too young.”
“I went to my first concert at fourteen.”
Cibele looked between her parents expectantly.
“We’ll talk about it,” Anita replied. She gave me a soft smile. “Maybe you could go with Selah.”
“Oh em gee.” Cibele rapidly listed ten bands she wanted to hear live. I recognized the names of four of them.
“Also, I had the same pair of Doc Marten’s as you do.”
“Really?”
“Really. Speaking of concerts and clothes, I brought a graduation present for you.” I reached for the box on the banquette next to me.
“You didn’t have to,” Anita said. “Say thank you, Cibele.”
“Thank you, Selah.”
“You haven’t opened it yet. You might not like it.” I fidgeted with my bracelets.
Kai’s hand gave me a reassuring squeeze.
Cibele gasped. “Is it really vintage?”
“It is. It was mine.”
“You were at this show?” She clutched my old Head on the Door concert T-shirt to her chest.
“I was.”
Kai leaned over and whispered in my ear, “You just became the coolest adult she’s ever met.”
I rested against him, smiling while I watched Cibele study the cities on the back, chattering away about songs and vinyl albums, and much to her parents’ amusement, boys who liked vintage music.
Later, Anita and I found ourselves standing at the bathroom sinks together.
“You really made her week with your gift.” Our eyes met in the mirror.
I shrugged. “Kai told me how much she loved The Cure.”
“It’s perfect.” She smiled and smoothed down her hair. “I’m happy for you and Kai.”
At a loss for words, I stared at her.
“You’re probably thinking this is all very strange.”
“A little.” I turned to face her. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“I’ve asked Kai, but I’d love to hear your version. Why did you encourage me to meet him last summer?”
“Ah.” She laughed. “I’ve been waiting for this moment.”
“You have?”
“Of course. It’s not typical for an ex-wife to play matchmaker. We’re not very typical, though. We’ve known each other half our lives. Our history together is long, and Cibele ties us together for the future, however long that might be.” She reached into her purse for a lip gloss. “Last spring, I found a lump in my breast. I don’t know if Kai told you. He didn’t know until Thanksgiving.”
“Oh, no.” My heart rate increased. “I’m sorry.”
“Turned out to be benign, but it scared me. I thought about death and what dying would mean for Cibele as an only child and two parents who travel too much.”
I gaped at her. “You didn’t think I’d be a good mother, did you?” Fear laced through my words.
Her laughter echoed inside the tiled space. “Oh, gosh no. When we met, I liked you, and I have an excellent sense about people because of my work. No, I realized how different you were from the women Kai had dated after the divorce. I won’t go into details, but will say the majority of them could be summed up in a single word: gold-digger.”
“Really?” I raised my eyebrow.
“That’s another reason why I told you his name was Gerhard. Kai Hendriks holds a certain caché in many circles.”
“I’m discovering that.”
“Long story short, my brush with cancer scared me into action. More than anything, I want Cibele and Kai to be happy. I figured if nothing else, you would have been something different in his world. Maybe you would have had coffee, conversation, and never seen each other again, but it might have been enough to remind him he deserved better. He’s a good man, but he’s not my man.” She gazed happily at me. “He loves you.”
“He is a good man,” I agreed. “And I love him. More than anything.” Overcome with emotion, I hugged her. Her love for Kai was real and present, not tinged with bitterness or jealousy. “Thank you,” I said after stepping away.
“You’re welcome.” Anita smiled at me, grasping my hand. “We’re not promised long lives, or even tomorrows, so we must love the lives we have now.”
WEEKS LATER…
“Try it,” I held the spicy tuna roll to Kai’s mouth.
“I’d really prefer not to develop food poisoning on a transatlantic flight.” He closed his lips tightly.
“Fine, more for me.” I took a bite. “Mmmm,” I moaned. “So good. The best thing I’ve had in my mouth for a long time.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”
“Mmm hmm.” I licked soy sauce from my lips.
“You’re ridiculous.”
I held up a piece with my chopsticks. He rolled his eyes, but opened his mouth.
“Mmm, it is good.”
“Told you so.” I popped another bite into my mouth and defended my plate with my chopsticks. “Order your own.”
“So, this is where it happened?” He looked around the sushi bar.
“Right here. We should buy plaques for these two stools.” I gestured behind us.
“What would the plaques say?” He stole another piece of my sushi.
“Don’t trust a Dutch man not to steal from you.” I moved my plate further away from him.
“Selah …”
“Kai …”
His dimple appeared and worked its voodoo juju.
“Let me think.” I tapped my chopsticks on the plate. “Something about talking to strangers. Or living in the moment.”
“The secret of health for both mind and body is not to mourn for the past, nor to worry about the future, but to live the present moment wisely and earnestly.”
“That’s profound.”
“It’s a quote from Buddha.”
“I love it when you get all namaste on me.”
“I don’t think namaste means what you think it does.”
“Oh, it does.” I grinned at him.
“What am I going to do with you?”
“Take me to Amsterdam?”
“Already doing that.”
“How about visiting some Greek islands?”
“That, too.”
“Be by my side when the sculpture exhibit opens in New York?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Hmmm … I’m out of ideas.”
Dark North Sea eyes met mine.
“I have an idea.”
My heart fluttered at the look in his eyes. I set down my chopsticks and focused on him. “What sort of idea do you have?”
“It’s a big idea. Huge, really.”
I blinked at him and waited.
“Marry me.”
“Yes,” I whispered before I could think my way out of it. I might have been a cynic, but deep down I believed in happily ever after.
“Yes?” His eyes widened.
“Yes. Why are you shocked?” I lifted my chin with a smug grin.
“I… I expected… I don’t know what I expected, but a simple yes wasn’t it.”
“I can give it further thought, if you’d be happier. Consider the pros and cons, do a survey, design a research project—”
He narrowed his eyes at me.
“Maybe I’ll discover I prefer only missionary position.”
“No!”
Giggling, I wrapped my hand around his neck to pull him close for a kiss.
“Yes?” he asked against my lips
“Yes.”
We kissed at the sushi bar in the middle of JFK airport without a care to who saw or judged.
We had our now, and I wouldn’t miss a minute of it.
Forever and always would come later.
Writing and publishing a novel doesn’t take place in a vacuum. Life keeps going on around me while I live inside my head, writing about my imaginary friends and their adventures. Not that I’m complaining. Being a romance writer is the best profession—I get to fall in love over and over with each new book.
Huge thanks to my husband and favorite travel companion, who rarely complains about a lack of homemade baked goods while we chase this dream together.
Special thanks to friends and family, who continue to support me despite cancelled dinners, slow replies to texts and emails, and general writer craziness. To the Lost Girls, who are the best friends a person could have, thank you for all the great adventures.
The past year of publishing has been an incredible journey. I’ve been blessed to meet many wonderful authors, bloggers, agents, publishers, and readers. The Indie world is a supportive community that feels like a big family. A big thank you to Heather Maven, who beta-read MP as it was written, giving me the feedback and the support needed to make this story the best it could be. Thank you to Kelly, Dianne, Marla, and Nadine for pre-reading; your honesty and enthusiasm were invaluable. Amanda, thank you for your help and input regarding all things Ghana. It was important for me to get those details right to honor the country and it’s people. Thank you to Melissa Ringstead and Jenny Sims for polishing drafts and correcting my sins against grammar. (Any remaining errors are my own.) Thank you to Sarah Hansen for a gorgeous cover and to Angela at Fictional Formats for making the inside of the book beautiful. Many thanks to ARC readers and bloggers, who shared their early enthusiasm and love for this book, including Vilma, Denise, Kandace, Lisa, Neda, Tiffany, Cindy, Diana, Hootie, Dympna, Becca, Stacy, Jessica, Denise, Daiana, Charlene, Mandy, and Missionary Sue. Special thank you to my agents, Flavia Viotti Siqueria and Meire Dias at Bookcase Literary Agency, for believing in my work and wanting to bring it to the rest of the world.