Fools Rush in(60)

“How about Trevor?” Katie named her twin brother, older than she was by eight minutes.

“No, Trevor doesn’t like me.”

“Oh, come on! He likes you fine!” Katie exclaimed.

“Nope. Not Trev. How about Steve?” I offered the name of another of Katie’s many brothers.

“Just married, remember? I don’t think Sheila would like him coming out at eleven o’clock to fetch his sister.” Our waitress brought the ni**les, and they were, as promised, rather gross.

“Sam will come get us,” I said, watching as Katie sipped her, uh, drink. “How about Sam?”

Katie’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Millie,” she warned.

“No, no, nothing like that. I’ve learned the error of my ways. But Sam’s sweet, and he won’t cop an attitude—get it? And besides, he never goes anywhere. He’d love to come and get us.”

“Do you swear you’re not trying to fix us up again?” she asked.

“Not unless you want me to,” I said innocently, though my eyes may have crossed a little.

“I don’t.”

“Okay, okay, but let’s call Sam. Sam’s awesome.” I fished my cell phone out of my bag and dialed Sam’s number. My nephew answered.

“Hi, Danny, how are you?”

“Hey, Aunt Mil. What’s up?”

Not wanting Danny to know I had been overindulging, I spoke carefully. “I’m looking for your father, Dan. Is he available?”

“Sure. Hang on. Dad,” he called. “It’s Aunt Millie. She sounds trashed.”

“Danny!” I said, simultaneously irritated and amused. “The boy can tell I’ve been drinking,” I said to Katie.

“Imagine that,” she answered dryly, taking a sip of water.

“Giving up on your nipple?” I asked, and we burst into laughter again as Sam came on the line. He agreed to join us at the Prison, and though it had become increasingly difficult for me to estimate time, appeared at our table a little while later.

“Hey, Millie, Katie,” he said, smiling and sitting down. Our faithful waitress, who had put up with us for hours now, took his order for a beer. “I understand you girls need a ride home.”

I sighed gustily. “Now who told you that? Danny? He’s jushta a child.”

Sam laughed softly. “I hope I am here to be your chauffeur, Millie, because there’s no way I’ll let you behind the wheel.”

“What about Katie?” I complained. “She’s been drinking, too!”

“At least Katie’s not sloppy,” Sam said, throwing Katie a little wink.

“Yeah, well, she can out-drink an Irish firefighter at a wake. And here I thought you’d be grateful that we rescued you from another night at home alone,” I said.

“Oh, I am, I am,” Sam replied. “It’s not every night I get to be with the two prettiest women on Cape Cod.”

Katie rolled her eyes, but such corn-pone sweetness made me want to weep, suddenly. “Sam, you’re the best,” I said sappily. “We love you, Sam.”

“Hey, guys.” Joe Carpenter stood at our table. “How’s it going, Sam?”

“Okay, Joe, how about yourself?”

“Never better. You playing next week?” Joe was no doubt referring to the sacred softball league.

“Yup. You guys?”

“That’s right. Thursday, I think.”

“Danny’s looking good. Fielding like Nomar of old,” Joe commented affably. I yawned hugely just as Joe turned to me. “Hey, girls, why does Sam get to hang out with you? I thought it was girls only. No boys allowed.”

Katie tossed her hair in an efficient shake. “Sam’s not a boy, Peter Pan. He’s a man.”

Joe looked startled for a second, but Sam intervened. “I’m here only as a public servant, Joe.” He smiled at me, eyes crinkling. I smiled drunkenly back. How I loved Sam!

“Right,” Joe said. “Well, I’ll let you guys be. Have a good night. See you tomorrow, Millie.” He leaned in and kissed me quickly on the mouth, then returned to his stool.

Sam led us to his car a short time later and drove us home. He kissed us each on the cheek, advised aspirin with an entire glass of water and drove off.

“You’re a prince, Sam,” I called, waving.

“He really is a prince,” Katie murmured. “Don’t look at me that way. I’m just stating a fact.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

THE DAY AFTER MY SLEEPOVER with Katie, Joe dropped by the clinic. Just his walking into the reception area caused a hushed and reverent silence to fall over Jill, Sienna and three female patients ranging in age from eleven to seventy-three.

“Hi, Millie,” he said as I came out of an exam room.

“Joe! Hi!”

“Got a minute?” he asked.

We ducked into my office.

“What’s up?” I murmured, a thread of uncertainty unraveling in my stomach.

“Oh, I was just driving by and saw your car,” he said, coming closer.

“Oh.” Think of something to say, quick.

“And I missed you.”

“Oh,” I whispered.

He kissed me then. Oh, Joe, I thought, I can’t believe we’re really together.