Lisa was enjoying her morning coffee as she sat at the kitchen island reading the local newspaper. She turned at the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. Kate was lugging her one big suitcase and an overnight bag. Lisa set her coffee cup down and walked over to her daughter.
“I feel awful that you have to move out. If you want to stay, you could sleep on the living room sofa for a few nights. After the three couples leave, I’m not fully booked.” Lisa felt guilty that her daughter was moving out, and she was going to miss having her around. The house had felt livelier since she’d been home.
Kate set her luggage down in the hallway and gave her mother a hug.
“Don’t be silly. I’ll be right up the road, and it looks like I’ll be on the island at least through the winter, so you’ll probably be sick of seeing me, anyway.” She grinned as she picked up her overnight bag and grabbed the handle of her suitcase. She didn’t seem to mind that she’d been kicked out. Lisa knew she’d probably love staying at Paige’s place. It was beautifully decorated with gorgeous water views and was the perfect size for a single person.
“All right, honey. I’ll see you soon then.”
“I’ll come by Saturday morning to help with breakfast, and to check out your new guests.” Kate promised as she walked out the door.
The house immediately felt empty without Kate in it. Lisa sighed as she topped off her coffee and settled back into her spot at the island. She was as curious as Kate about their new guests. She hoped that they’d be pleased with the accommodations. She’d made sure there would be fresh flowers in all the rooms and extra towels in the bathrooms. She’d tried to anticipate all the things a guest might appreciate.
She smiled as she thought of Rhett. They’d quickly become good friends, and she’d been enjoying his company for the occasional evening meal. She hoped that the arrival of the guests wouldn’t be too distracting for him. He’d had the upstairs of the house to himself so far.
Less than ten minutes later, Kate pulled into the driveway of Paige’s house. She’d always admired it and was looking forward to staying there for the next few months. She fished the key out of her pocket and unlocked the front door, then went back to get her luggage and brought everything inside.
Once she was in, she took a moment to look around. Big picture windows in the living/family room looked out over the ocean and the sweeping views of the bay were breathtaking. The kitchen had creamy ivory painted cabinets and a v-shaped rose colored granite island that faced the living room.
Kate knew that Paige wasn’t much of a cook, but the kitchen was still a chef’s dream. It had a six-burner gas stove in the center of the island, so someone could cook while enjoying the view and chatting with guests sitting across from them.
The house was much smaller than her mother’s. But it still had plenty of room, with three bedrooms. Paige used one of them as an office and Kate planned to do the same. She brought her luggage into the master bedroom which was roomy and full of light. The sun poured through French doors that led to a small balcony overlooking the ocean. It was too cold to sit out there now, but Kate could picture herself enjoying her morning coffee there in warmer weather.
She’d assumed that she would take the guest bedroom, but Paige had insisted that she stay in the bigger, main bedroom.
“My winter clothes are in storage now and I’m taking most of everything else with me, so you’ll have plenty of room in the closet,” she’d said.
Sure enough, there was more than enough room for Kate’s clothes in the large, walk-in closet. She spent the next hour unpacking and putting everything away. And then she took her laptop into Paige’s office, which was starkly empty compared to the rest of the house. There was a large, white desk, facing a bay window with pretty water views. The only thing on the desk was a roll of stamps and a small reading lamp.
Kate set her laptop down, plugged it in and opened up her mystery project. She had it fully outlined now and the first two chapters done and sent off to Philippe for feedback. He’d volunteered to read and make sure she was on the right track. He’d also called the day before to say he’d come by tonight to give her feedback in person. She’d thought he’d do it by email and she hated to bother him, but he’d insisted.
“All my notes are handwritten. That’s how I read. I print it out and make notes in the margins,” he’d said.
“Well, why don’t you plan to come for dinner then? Do you like meatballs and pasta?” Kate figured she could make a big pot of sauce and let it simmer while she worked.
“Who doesn’t? I’ll bring the wine.” He sounded so enthusiastic, and she was eager to hear his feedback. She knew her idea was a good one, but she was less sure if the story was working the way she’d laid it out. She hoped so.
After staring out the window for at least twenty minutes as she thought about the story, she finally started writing. She wrote for several hours before her shoulders and neck began to protest and her stomach told her it was time to break for lunch. She knew there wasn’t any food in the house and she had to pick up the ingredients for dinner anyway, so she took a ride into town to Stop and Shop, the island’s biggest market.
An hour later, she returned home with several bags of groceries, made herself a quick turkey sandwich and threw the meatballs and sauce together. She baked the meatballs first and then added them to the big pot of sauce that was simmering on the stove. Once that was set, she returned to the office to dive into her story. She was eager to get back to it. She’d been a little unsure of what needed to happen next when she stopped for lunch. But the perfect solution came to her as she was driving home from the market, and she wanted to get it down before it slipped away.
The afternoon flew by as Kate lost herself in her story. Her new idea was a good one, and she was surprised when she finally stopped for the day, to see how much she’d done. The sun was beginning to set as she yawned and stretched. The smell of simmering tomato sauce tickled her nose, and she went to the kitchen to check on dinner. She’d left the heat on low and the sauce was bubbling happily. She dipped a teaspoon in for a quick taste. All it needed was a pinch of salt and pepper.
She still had an hour or so before Philippe was due to arrive. A hot shower revived and soothed her achy shoulders and arms that were stiff from sitting in the same position for too long. After blowing her hair dry, she dressed in her favorite worn jeans and a baby blue V-neck sweater. She set a pan of water on the stove to boil for the pasta, and just as it started to boil, she was surprised by a knock on the door. Philippe didn’t strike her as the type to arrive so early.
She was even more surprised when she opened the door to find Jack Trattel standing there. He looked as though he’d just come home from work as he was wearing jeans and a navy blue heavy work shirt with Trattel Seafood embroidered in red across the front.
“Hi Jack.”
He grinned. “I saw a car in the driveway and thought it might be you. I remembered you said you were going to be staying here for a while.”
“Good memory. Do you want to come in?” She opened the door wider, and he stepped inside.
“Sure. Just for a minute though. I don’t want to keep you.” He followed her to the kitchen and stopped short when saw the pot of simmering sauce.
“Something smells good.”
“Thanks. It’s just spaghetti and meatballs,” she said as she emptied a box of pasta into the pot of boiling water.
“That’s a lot of pasta. If you need any help to eat it, let me know.” He grinned again and Kate laughed. He looked starving.
“Why don’t you join us? I’m sure Philippe won’t mind.”
At the mention of his friend’s name, Jack’s eyes clouded. “I didn’t realize you were expecting company.” A moment later, he added, “I’m just teasing, anyway. I told my brother that I’d meet him in about an hour for pizza and beers.”
“That sounds fun too.”
“Yeah. Well, I should probably get going. I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.” He stepped toward the front door and Kate followed.
“Well, thanks for stopping by. Which house is yours?”
“The gray one two doors down. We’re almost next-door neighbors. If you need anything, just holler. I’ll probably hear you.”
Kate hadn’t realized that he lived that close. She’d known he was on the same street.
Jack stepped outside as Philippe pulled into the driveway.
“I’ll talk to you later. Enjoy your date night.”
Kate opened her mouth to say it wasn’t a date night, but Jack was already gone and saying hello to Philippe as he got out of his car. She couldn’t hear the two of them but a moment later, they both laughed and Jack got into his car and drove off.
Kate held the door open for Philippe who was smiling and carrying a bag with two bottles of wine sticking out of it, and something else that she couldn’t quite make out.
“Hello, beautiful.” Philippe leaned in and kissed her lightly on the cheek.
He handed her the bag which she brought into the kitchen and set on the counter. He’d brought two bottles of a good Amarone, one of Kate’s favorite red Italian wines. And a gorgeous small bouquet of pink tulips in a square cut vase.
“These are lovely. Thank you!” She set the flowers in the middle of the island. She figured they’d eat there. When she turned back, Philippe had found the wine opener and was opening one of the bottles. She got two wine glasses from the cupboard. He poured them each a glass and handed one to her.
She took a small sip and sighed. The wine was wonderful, smooth and full-bodied.
“This is really good. Thank you.”
Philippe smiled and lifted his glass. “To a future best-selling author!” He tapped his glass against hers and she laughed, loving his enthusiasm. She also felt a bit of relief.
“Does that mean you didn’t hate my pages? I have to confess, I was worried about what you’d think,” she admitted.
“Of course I didn’t hate them. They’re actually quite good, better than I expected. There’s a few things here and there that I’ll point out, but they’re minor fixes. You have a solid premise. I’m looking forward to reading more.”
“You are? Really?” Kate was floored. She’d felt like she was imposing as it was.
“Really. When you finish your first draft, send it along. I’ll read and give you some big picture feedback. You’re on the right track though.”
“That’s incredibly generous of you. I’ll gladly take you up on it. And I’ll owe you another dinner.”
“I look forward to it.”
When the pasta was done, Kate drained it, then filled two plates with pasta, meatballs and sauce. She also set out parmesan cheese, bread and butter. They settled at the island and dove in. Philippe was impressed with the meatballs.
“These are amazing, as good as any I’ve had in a restaurant.”
Kate laughed. “Thank you. It’s one of the few things I know how to make well.”
They both went back for a second helping and then finished off one of the bottles of wine as they sat talking for well over an hour. Philippe had some great suggestions for her story which she knew would make it tighter and stronger. When they finished going over the feedback, he made her laugh telling her about his upcoming TV project and the crazy cast of characters that were involved.
“Filming starts in two weeks, and I won’t be around as much for a few months until the season wraps. I might get home a few weekends a month, hopefully.”
“Would it be easier to just live there full-time?” she wondered.
“Oh, much easier in some ways. But, I’d miss the island too much. This is what I consider home. As soon as I step off the plane and breathe in the Nantucket air, it’s like all the stress leaves my body. It’s kind of hard to explain.”
“No, I get it. That’s exactly how I feel too, though I’m usually arriving by ferry.”
“Do you think you’ll stay here? Or move back to Boston?”
“I’m really not sure. It depends how things go this winter and if I’m able to get enough freelance work to allow me to stay. There are more jobs in Boston.”
Philippe frowned at the thought.
“If the rest of your book is as good as your first chapters, hopefully you won’t have to worry about that.” His words gave her hope and made her feel excited to make his changes and continue with the story.
“Do you ever doubt that what you’ve written is good enough?” she asked. She was sure if he did, he was a long time ago, but still she was curious.
He smiled. “Yes, all the time. With every book actually.” His answer surprised her.
“Really? Still?”
“From what I hear, it’s normal. Most writers feel that way at some point in their process. So you’re in good company. Just keep going.”
“I will,” she promised.
“Well, I should probably get going. Unless you want to open that other bottle of wine? But then I might be here longer than you’d like. And I might forget about our agreement to just be friends?” He grinned, and she couldn’t help but laugh. He was like a mischievous child at times. A very good-looking, charming one to be sure. And she knew that more wine would be a very bad idea.
“I think I’ve had my limit of wine. And we both have to work tomorrow I think?” She wasn’t sure if he was or not, but she didn’t want to be feeling hung-over in the morning.
He stood. “Well, it was worth a shot, right? I’ll give you a call when I’m back on the island, and we’ll see how far along you are then.”
“That sounds, good. Thanks again for all of your help and for the wine, and flowers.”
“It was my pleasure, all of it.” Philippe wrapped her in a hug and kissed her cheek again before walking out the door.
Once he left, all the energy seemed to leave the room. Kate wondered if she’d done the right thing to discourage his interest. He’d been such good company, making her laugh all night and taking a sincere interest in her book. She appreciated that he cared. And he was certainly handsome, she definitely found him attractive. But there was still a little voice that seemed to whisper, “He’s not for you.” She’d learned in the past that it was usually a good idea to listen to that voice.