On Second Thought(42)

He didn’t respond.

“Let’s do this again next week, shall we?” Eloise said when the interminable lunch was finally over, and I couldn’t help flinching.

“Sure!” I said. “That would be great!”

The food sat heavily in my stomach as I drove home. Eloise followed behind me the entire way, which made my driving jerky and uncertain. Their house was less than a mile from Nathan’s place. Our place, I meant. Mine, actually.

I pulled into the driveway. Someone was standing on my doorstep, surrounded by suitcases. Someone holding a little dog.

“Ainsley?”

“Eric and I broke up,” she said, and my mouth fell open. “Dumped me, cleaned out our account and told me to move. Can I stay with you for a few days?”

“Yes! Of course, come on in.”

The joy that flooded through me was shameful. But thank God, I wouldn’t have to be alone in this house another day.





Chapter Eleven

Ainsley

As Kate helped me lug in my three suitcases, as Ollie charged through the exciting new space, a corner of his blanket clutched in his mouth, I seemed to be stricken with verbal diarrhea, hoping desperately that she didn’t mind me showing up here. For a flash of a second as I drove over, I’d forgotten that Nathan was dead, and in that flash, I felt such relief... Nice Nathan, who really seemed to like me, would definitely be on my side.

But he was dead. And his death was why Eric decided to move to Alaska (the state’s name now imbued with dripping sarcasm).

“Yeah, so he dumped me Friday. I thought he was going to propose, but no, and the thing is, the lobster was so good, and all night long, I kept thinking about it. And the ring, Kate! The ring was so sparkly! I found it in his underwear drawer the night of—um, a few weeks ago. Anyway, no proposal. He dumped me, so I figured I’d do exactly what he said, right? He wants me out, I’m out.”

“Good for you, Ainsley.” Rather than the typical expression of slight concern whenever she saw me (and a little condescension), she looked genuinely pleased.

I lifted the heavier suitcase so as not to scratch the floors. “I think if I just leave him alone for a few weeks—um, or days—” she doesn’t want you here for weeks, dummy! “—he’ll come to his senses. Wow, this place is beautiful! Eric always had a woody for it. I swear to God, he wanted to be Nathan.”

Who died on your stupid granite countertop. Shut up, Ainsley.

Kate just looked at me. “Well, come on upstairs and pick your bedroom, okay?”

We went up the stairs and down the long, white hallway, which Ollie was using as a racetrack, filled with glee. I looked in the first bedroom. “This will be fine,” I said.

“No, no, take your time. Look around. The corner room has a great tub. But this one has a skylight. And I love those red pillows.” She paused, pushing her hair back. Her shoes didn’t match, I noticed, and my heart twisted.

“They’re all beautiful. I really appreciate this.”

“Nathan has—had—great taste.”

“Absolutely! That’s for sure. I still can’t believe you actually live here. You’re so lucky.”

Ah, yes. Just what to say to the grief-stricken widow. Maybe I should write for Hallmark Cards. Your husband may be dead, but think of the extra closet space you’ll have! “I...I meant I love this house.”

“I know. Don’t worry. You don’t have to walk on eggshells.” She gave me a rueful smile, and I felt a twinge of little-sister hope. Then again, I’d felt that twinge once a year for my entire life.

“Thanks. We’ll have a great time.” And there I went again, saying the exact wrong thing. “I should shut up now. Sorry again.”

She laughed a little. “It’s okay. You’re a breath of fresh air.”

“Are you hungry?” I asked.

“Um...yeah. I think so. I just had lunch with Eloise, but I didn’t eat much.”

“I’ll cook us dinner! Okay?”

“There’s lots of food in the freezer. Well, you know that already. Thank you, by the way. For coming by and organizing stuff.” She swallowed with difficulty, it seemed. “Anyway, get settled in, and I’ll pour you some wine and you can tell me everything. It’ll be nice not to think about...my own stuff.”

“Kate.” I hesitated, then gave her a hug. “He was the nicest guy in the world.”

“You know what’s funny?” she said, her voice husky. “You knew him longer than I did.” She gave me a brisk pat on the back, then pulled away. “Check out all the rooms and pick your favorite.”

She went down the hall to her own bedroom, and I caught a glimpse of her giant bed. My heart wobbled with grief. Thirty-nine years old, and a widow.

And here Eric was having a midlife crisis. If anything, Nathan’s death should’ve taught him to cherish the people around him, the ass-hat.

This Jack London phase wasn’t going to last. Really. Eric shuddered at those shows about the Alaskan mountain men on the Discovery Channel. If he made it out of New York, I’d be stunned. But right now, I was furious. I deserved to be married. I wanted that ring, that piece of paper, that Mrs. title in front of my name, and I’d earned it.

I loved Eric, had always loved him, had always been his biggest fan.