PAUL HAD BEEN DISAPPOINTED that Annie’s seating arrangement had him sitting well away from her. Normally, he was a go-with-the-flow kind of guy, but he had not wanted to sit between Libby Potter and Rose, at the opposite end of the table from Annie. So he’d been willing to risk being a terrible dinner guest by shaking things up a little.
He’d asked Fred Morris to trade seats with him. Fred was happy to comply, since the switch meant he would still be sitting beside Rose, and Paul was next to Annie. Win-win. Paul’s audacity earned him a wink from Thomas, a fist pump from CJ and two thumbs up from Emily. If he annoyed Annie, she wasn’t letting on.
It had been years since he’d been here for dinner. While Annie’s kitchen was now a model of modern efficiency, the dining room was a throwback to the farmhouse’s origins. From the chandelier overhead to the Turkish carpet on the floor, the dusky floral wallpaper, sturdy old oak furniture, delicate china and gleaming silverware, it all came together to tell this family’s story.
Annie was as comfortable here as she was in the kitchen, getting up from time to time to move a bowl to the sideboard or retrieve a platter, making sure everyone had all they needed. On several occasions her knee bumped his, making her blush. Her movements were so fluid and effortless that no one else seemed to notice as she anticipated what one of them might want or need even before they knew it themselves. The conversation flowed from horses to weddings to blogs, periodically interspersed with references to the weather, the economy and Isaac’s favorite new dinosaur, “a plant-eating titanosaur with a ginormous body and a long neck that it waved around like a weed whacker.”
Paul could get used to eating like this. Family-style, the table laden with bowls and platters, a centerpiece of early fall flowers from Annie’s garden. The only thing better than the food was the company, he decided, taking in the faces around the table.
Across from him, Jack had his arm draped protectively across the back of Emily’s chair. From time to time she looked up at her fiancé, her eyes filled with affection. It made Paul’s chest tighten. Their wedding was just a week away, and Paul was looking forward to the event. He was happy for them, of course, but even more, he looked forward to Annie being maid of honor to his best man. And if she thought his switching places at the dinner table had been a bold move, then she was in for a few more surprises.
Isaac’s teacher was engaged in a quiet conversation with Thomas. Easy to see what was happening between the two of them. Apparently they had known one another in high school and gone their separate ways. Now they were reconnecting and, if Paul had to guess, neither of them was fighting the attraction. Not unlike his current situation with Annie, with that one important exception. If she could feel the pull of attraction, and he was sure she could, then she was having an easier time denying it than he was.
CJ sat next to her nephew, fully engaged with everything the little chatterbox had to say, from dogs to dinosaurs to dodgeball, which was his new favorite sport at school. The child was bright and energetic, full of mischief, no doubt, but also respectful of his mother and extended family. He had been raised well and with love, and it showed. Paul was completely taken with the little boy’s exuberance.
The one exception to the convivial group was Annie’s young half sister, Rose. She sat between Paul and Fred. It was obvious Fred had more than a passing interest in Rose, and it was equally obvious those feelings were not reciprocated. Rose still had the crackly cough, and in spite of a generous application of cologne, her clothing carried the scent of cigarette smoke. And although the only beverages at the table were sodas and sparkling water—plus milk for Isaac and Emily—there was no mistaking a hint of alcohol on her breath.
She had returned to the clinic for a follow-up appointment, as he had requested the first time he saw her at the clinic. The throat swab had ruled out a strep infection but she did have a nasty case of bronchitis. Blood work indicated severe anemia and she was underweight, symptoms he was sure were due to alcohol abuse and poor nutrition.
Tonight, he noticed, she served herself small portions and spent more time pushing the food around the plate with her fork than consuming it. Annie encouraged her to try the yam casserole, to help herself to a second serving of mashed potatoes and gravy. Yet no amount of Annie’s gentle cajoling could convince her to eat. Paul found her overall demeanor to be more childlike than adult, and he had to wonder what it was Fred saw in her.
As the dinner plates were cleared, Paul saw an opportunity to catch a few minutes of alone time with Annie.
“Let me take those,” he said to Libby, picking up the stack of dinner plates and carrying them into the kitchen. Annie went ahead with serving bowls in each hand. Somewhat to his dismay, CJ followed with a platter and the gravy boat. Once inside the kitchen, though, she smiled and gave him a cheeky wink when Annie wasn’t looking. “You two go ahead and load the dishwasher and I’ll finish clearing the table,” she said before she disappeared with a tray tucked under her arm.
Paul liked both of Annie’s sisters, her whole family, for that matter. But right now, intentionally leaving him alone in the kitchen with Annie made CJ his hands-down favorite.
He opened the dishwasher. “Annie, thank you for dinner. That was the best meal I’ve had in ages.”
While he rinsed plates and loaded them into the dishwasher, Annie turned on the coffeemaker and took the lid off a large plastic container that was sitting on the island. “I’m glad you were able to get away. How’s your father?”
“Today was a relatively good day. Jack’s parents asked him over for dinner and thankfully he agreed to go.” Otherwise Paul might have had to stay home with him. “He’s known them for years and has been to their home many times. His long-term memory is still pretty well intact and he feels comfortable there. And it’s good for him to have company.”
“It must be a worry for you, having to leave him on his own while you’re at the clinic.”
Luckily, his father had always preferred solitude, even when he was healthy. “The Evanses have been checking in on him—they’ve always been wonderful neighbors—but I won’t be able to rely on them for long.”
“Emily tells me they plan to do some traveling after the wedding.”
“Yes, finally. They’ve worked hard and deserve to enjoy their retirement while they can. I have lined up a caregiver who starts on Wednesday. A young LPN—his name is Jordan—who’ll come in for four or five hours a day.”
“A male nurse? That’s great, and having him there will be a huge relief, I’m sure.”
“It is.”
Truthfully, finding any nurse would have been great but Paul was happy to have found a man who was willing to take on the job. His father tended to be demanding and even difficult with the staff he’d worked with at the clinic, particularly with women. Jordan had a no-nonsense approach to patient care, and his height and build were an added advantage for coping with a difficult patient. Not that Paul expected his father would need to be restrained. If and when that time came, Paul would have to arrange permanent care in a nursing home. In the meantime, his father was less likely to be verbally challenging with another man, especially one who towered over him by a good four inches. That would make everyone’s life easier. And on his father’s more difficult days, Paul was confident that Jordan would take the old man’s unpredictable behavior in stride.
But for now, Paul didn’t want to talk about his father. “Your dad looks good. And he and Libby seem to be hitting it off.”
“I didn’t realize they knew each other so well.”
From what Paul had seen, they intended to get to know one another even better. He wondered how Annie would feel about that.
“Anyway,” she said, as though she’d read his thoughts and wanted to answer his question. “I think it’s great. My dad was born and raised here and he’s always had lots of friends but never anyone special, not since my mom. I hope Libby’s really okay with him being in a wheelchair and not just being nice.”
“Oh, I’d say she’s more than okay with it.”
Annie’s cheeks went a little pink, all but obliterating the faint dusting of freckles he’d always found so delectable.
“Good. It’s weird to think of my dad dating, but it’s kind of adorable at the same time.”
Paul wondered how Isaac would feel if his mother was dating someone, half hoping that Annie was still following his train of thought.
She wasn’t. She was slicing into the cake Libby had brought with her and was transferring generous wedges onto dessert plates.
“Look at this cake. No one in Riverton bakes a red velvet cake the way Mable Potter does. Except maybe her daughter. And this boiled frosting…” She swiped her finger along the back of the knife, closed her eyes as she tasted the white icing. “Mmm…so good.”
Paul was sure his heart skipped a few beats before it sped up.
“Try some.”
He did, and agreed the frosting was delicious. It might have tasted better from the tip of her finger than his own. He wished the idea hadn’t entered his head, and then he really hoped she wasn’t reading his thoughts.
“If the cake tastes half that good, I think I’m going to like it.”
“You’ve never eaten red velvet cake?”
He shook his head.
“You’ll love it. Everyone does.”
CJ returned from the dining room with a tray loaded with dishes and set them on the counter. “Is that Libby’s mom’s red velvet cake?” she asked.
“It is, and Paul’s never had it before.”
“Seriously?” CJ quickly transferred the dishes from the tray to the dishwasher. “I’ve been watching Dad and Libby. If the two of them hook up, we can have her mom’s cake more often.”
“CJ!” Annie carefully set five dessert plates onto the newly emptied tray, then placed the remaining plates on another tray. “What a thing to say.”
“What? I love cake. And I call it as I see it. There’s something going on with Dad and Libby. I think it’s cute.” CJ grinned. “In fact, I think we should all get to have our cake and eat it, too.”
Paul wholeheartedly agreed.
* * *
AT THE END of the evening, Libby helped Annie clean up the kitchen. The rest of the group had drifted. Paul left first, saying he needed to check on his father. Libby felt badly for him, knowing firsthand how devastating an Alzheimer’s diagnosis was for everyone involved. She also gathered from what Paul had said the disease was more advanced with his father. Emily was feeling tired so Jack had driven her home, and Rose and Fred had left at the same time. CJ had taken Isaac upstairs to supervise his bedtime routine, and then she had gone out to the stable for a final check on her horses.
Only Thomas had remained in the kitchen and Libby kept glancing over to where he sat at the kitchen table with a newspaper spread in front of him and a pair of reading glasses resting low on his nose. He was a fascinating man with diverse interests and carefully considered opinions on a wide range of subjects.
Annie snapped the lid on Libby’s cake carrier and set it on the end of the island. “That cake was delicious. Please thank your mother for us,” she said. “And please let her know we’d love to have her come to Sunday dinner sometime.”
“Thank you. That’s very thoughtful.”
“Not at all. As you can see, we love having people join us.”
“I’m not sure my mother could cope, unfortunately. She’s good in one-on-one situations, sometimes even with two or three people if she knows them well. But in a large group she tends to get confused and then she gets frustrated even though she doesn’t understand why she’s confused and frustrated.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Paul is going through a similar situation with his father.”
“We’ve talked a bit about that.” Somehow, hearing about his circumstances made her feel a little less alone in hers. “We’re very lucky to have him as our doctor.”
“I think the whole town is happy to have another Dr. Woodward in its midst.” Annie set a stack of plastic containers next to the cake carrier. “Here, I packaged up some leftovers for you take home. That way you won’t have to cook dinner after school tomorrow.”
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” Libby said. “Although honestly, I’m grateful you did.” Tomorrow it would be a real treat to come home after a long day and not have to prepare a meal.
She reached out and gave Annie a hug and was surprised when the young woman whispered in her ear. “Thank you for putting some sparkle back in my dad’s eye.”
Libby stepped back, felt her face grow warm and gave Annie a long look. Was Thomas’s daughter giving her the stamp of approval?
“Looks like you’re ready to go,” Thomas said, looking up from his paper. “I’ll see you out.”
Annie answered her silent question with a wink. “Good night, Libby. I hope you’ll join us again soon.”
“I will. Thank you.” Libby gathered up her things and followed Thomas out of the kitchen and through the house to the front door.
He held her cake carrier and the containers of leftovers on his lap while she retrieved her coat from the closet and slipped into it. On the screened veranda, he swung his chair next to a wicker armchair and patted the seat cushion. “Sit for a bit before you go?”
“I’d like that.” She set her things on a side table, realizing as she sat just how close he had positioned himself to her chair.
The porch itself wasn’t lit, but a warm glow from the living room filtered through the lace curtains. The night air was crisp but not cold, and she realized that at some point after dessert, Thomas had put on a sweater, as though sitting out here had not been a spur-of-the-moment decision.
“Warm enough?” he asked.
“Yes, thanks.”
“I’m glad you came tonight.”
“Thank you again for inviting me. You have a wonderful family and I enjoyed getting to know them a little. Isaac is a very lucky little boy.”
“Family is important,” he said.
“It is.” For the umpteenth time, she wondered how she had allowed her own life to drift so far away from that all-important principle. His daughters were beautiful, inside and out, and their mutual love and respect for one another and for their father had literally lit up the dining room tonight. “Not having a family of my own is my biggest regret.”
Thomas reached for her hand and held it between both of his. For a second or two, she closed her eyes as the warmth of his touch seeped into her skin. She opened them to find him leaning close.
“Life is too short for regrets.” He moved his hands, big and strong and gentle, to the sides of her face and kissed her. Her own hands, fingers splayed, found the firmly muscled contours of his chest. A soul-deep heat like nothing she had ever experienced flared through her. These emotions were new and raw and real, exciting and comforting and satisfying. It was as though she had struggled her whole life to put together a jigsaw puzzle, only to realize, too late, that a piece was missing. Suddenly that one last, errant piece had been found and finally, easily slipped into place.
“Oh, Thomas,” she breathed after the kiss ended.
He stayed close, looking at her as he smoothed her hair. Even out here on the dimly lit veranda, she could see the intent in his eyes and again her only thought was…finally.
“I’d like to see you again,” he said.
“I’d like that, too.”
“Tomorrow.”
“I have school tomorrow.”
“I know. If I pick you up at seven, does that give you enough time to have dinner with your mother, get her settled?”
“You could have dinner with us.”
He shook his head. “I have something else in mind.”
Libby considered what he was saying. He wanted to pick her up, take her out, as though… “Is this a date?”
“Sure, we can call it that.”
“Are you going to tell me where you’re taking me?”
“No.” But there was a promise in his smile that she found irresistible.
“So, it’s a surprise?”
“We can call it that, too.” He took her face in his hands and kissed her again, and there was a promise there, too.