This afternoon they had taken Casey’s dog for a walk downtown and planned to hang out at a local coffee shop that had dog-friendly tables on the sidewalk. The weather was decent enough for it, overcast but no rain in the forecast.
A week had passed since he and Sarah walked Petey along the seawall. He had hoped a similar opportunity would present itself. No luck. All they’d had were two end-of-day encounters in the driveway, once while Kate was with him and the other when Casey was with her mother, plus some brief interaction on Thursday afternoon when Sarah picked up her daughter after soccer practice. If he wanted to spend time with her—and of course he did—he would have to create an opportunity. Problem was, he couldn’t decide what he should do. Suggest they take the dog for a walk? Invite her out for coffee? Suggest they drive down to Sechelt for dinner?
She was a self-confessed list maker who had no interest in sports and hated to cook. He would like to be organized but wasn’t, and at one point years ago had fleetingly considered dropping out of kinesiology to enroll in a culinary school. He’d thought about their conversation since that night, and about her, but mostly he’d thought a lot about the kiss. The lead-up to it was a blur—who had initiated it?—and he’d lain awake running the instant replay in his head. All he remembered was her. Her firm mouth, her sweet taste, her real-woman scent rather than some lavishly expensive, artificially scented fragrance that made his head ache. Her glamorous appearance—and let’s face it, even in jeans and a casual sweater the woman was a knockout—seemed natural, effortless. Unlike...
But there was no point in going there. Georgette was part of his past, a past that he was finally ready to put behind him because the future was suddenly filled with promise. Sarah shared many of the same qualities—intelligence, self-confidence, drop-dead gorgeousness—but she didn’t need or want to be the center of attention. And she was a great mom. It was too soon to speculate where this might go, or if it would go anywhere, but he hoped it would.
His phone rang then, and as he followed the sound to the kitchen where he’d left it, he had a hunch it was Georgette. This was the time she usually called Kate on weekends and if she couldn’t reach their daughter, she called him by default. He grabbed his phone off the counter and the display confirmed his suspicion.
For a split second he considered not answering. It would be the smart thing to do since he really didn’t want to talk to her. But she would keep calling until he answered. So he manned up and took the call.
“Hello, Georgette.”
“Is Kate there?” she asked.
“It’s nice to talk to you, too.”
“Very clever. We both know we’re past the point of having to chitchat about the weather.”
Her words could still cut like a knife, swift and sharp and deep enough to drain the life out of him.
“Kate is out with her friends. She has her phone with her, though.”
“I already tried that. She didn’t pick up.”
Kate checked obsessively for missed calls and messages. She looked forward to her conversations with her mother, but it didn’t surprise him that she wouldn’t take a call from her while she was out with her friends.
“I’ll ask her to call you when she gets in.”
“When will that be?”
“She’ll be home in an hour or so.”
“It’s already after eleven over here, and Xavier and I are on our way back to our hotel. We’re in London.”
He didn’t care where she was, or why, but she always found a way to work it into a conversation.
“We’re here for fall Fashion Week here, and then we’re off to Milan.”
“That sounds...nice. Speaking of fashion, I hope Kate thanked you for the purse you sent her.”
There was an uncharacteristic pause. “I didn’t send her a purse.”
“Oh. She said...huh...never mind. I guess I misunderstood.”
Mom sent it. It came in the mail yesterday. Couldn’t be less ambiguous, and now it turned out to be a bold-faced lie.
“Apparently you did. Listen, I have to go. Our driver just pulled up with our car and Xavier’s waiting.”
“I’ll tell Kate you called. If she can’t get through to you later today, I assume you’ll call before she leaves for school in the morning?”
“Of course I will. I always do.”
“Okay, I’ll let her—”
But Georgette had already disconnected.
He stared at his phone. “Nice talking to you. I’ll be sure to tell her you called.” Right after he found out how she’d acquired the purse and why she lied about it.