Fools Rush in(64)

“Avery,” Trish said loudly, turning to the man behind her, “this is my little sister, Millie, the one I’ve told you so much about.”

The only one you’ve got, I thought. I had yet to meet the man she’d dumped Sam for. A generic-looking man stepped forward and offered me his hand.

“Avery Smith,” he announced.

This was the guy Trish had dumped Sam for? He was as bland as beige. Medium height, medium build, medium face, medium aged. The only notable thing about him was his choice in clothes—he wore a lime-green polo shirt and bright pink cotton pants.

“Hi,” I said, not shaking his hand. I just couldn’t, not in Sam’s own house. “Nice pants.”

He looked puzzled. I grinned.

“Sam!” Trish continued in cordial ex-wife mode. “Everything looks just great! How have you been?”

“Hi, Trish, good to see you,” Sam answered. He dutifully received the kiss she planted on his cheek to illustrate to Avery and everyone else that there were No Hard Feelings.

“And where’s Danny? Oh, hi, honey!” Now at least Trish seemed genuine, because her eyes teared up when she saw her son. “God, you’ve grown another inch, I think! And so handsome, just like your dad.”

Sam looked my way, and I rolled my eyes. He smiled back with a little shake of his head.

To Avery, Sam gave a stiff nod. My stomach clenched with discomfort…was this the first time Sam and Avery had met? Avery said something and Sam answered, then gestured to the kitchen. He watched Avery leave the room. His face was neutral, but I felt a sudden rush of anger. How could Trish bring her lover here, to what had been her home with Sam? Did she have any idea how that made him feel? She had to know that Sam would be classy about the whole thing, and it seemed like she was taking advantage of it.

I reminded myself not to judge. Sam and Trish were a mystery I didn’t understand, and, as Sam had pointed out to me, I had no firsthand experience of marriage or divorce. Trish was shaking hands with Dr. Whitaker, gave Jill a kiss and then hugged our parents, exclaiming over Mom’s outfit. She seemed cheerful and relaxed, completely at home, despite the fact that she had cheated on Cape Cod’s finest man.

“Hi. I’m Carol.”

I turned, grateful for the distraction, and saw the blond stranger I had glimpsed in the crowd earlier.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m Millie, and I’m thirty years old.”

“So I gathered. Happy birthday.”

She had kind brown eyes and a natural, clean beauty that was echoed by her simple, summery outfit of linen pants and silky pink shirt.

“So…do I know you?” I asked curiously.

“Well, actually, I’m more of Sam’s guest. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t get you a present.”

“I knew we’d be friends,” I grinned. “Sam’s guest, is it? Are you from around here?”

“No,” she replied, taking a sip of her Corona. “I’m from Connecticut. But my folks have a place up here that I’m using this summer.”

“That sounds nice. How did you meet Sam?”

“He pulled me over for speeding,” she said dryly.

My eyebrows rose. “Is this how you’re working off your fine? Because I think that might be illegal.”

Carol laughed. “No, no, I had to pay. But he called the next day and we chatted a while, and he asked if I’d like to come to your party.”

“Well, Carol, I’m very glad you did. Especially since you brought me a present.”

So Sam had asked someone out! I guess I shouldn’t have been so surprised. It was just weird, thinking of Sam with someone, especially a stranger. Picturing him with Katie was one thing, but this Carol person—

At that moment, Joe walked up. “How’s my birthday girl?” he asked, looping a casual arm around my shoulders.

“Great,” I answered, “now that the shock has receded. Joe, this is Carol, a friend of Sam’s.”

“Joe Carpenter,” he said, shaking her hand. “Hey, Millie, I didn’t know Trish Nickerson was your sister.”

I stared at him in surprise. “You—you didn’t?” Being Trish’s sister had pretty much defined my first eighteen years, and the fact that Joe was oblivious to this was stunning. Then again, Joe hadn’t made studying me his life’s work, as I had done with him.

“So Sam’s your brother-in-law, right?” Joe asked.

“Well,” I said, glancing at Carol, “no, not anymore.”

“Oh, that’s right. Okay. Well, I’m starving. You hungry, Millie?” Joe asked cheerfully.

“Sure,” I answered.

“I’ll get you a plate, then. Nice to meet you, Carol.”

“Nice guy,” Carol commented as we watched Joe’s lovely, jean-clad backside as he walked into the kitchen.

“As nice as they come,” I agreed.

“Pretty gorgeous, too.”

“Yes, ma’am.” We exchanged a grin of feminine appreciation.

The party progressed as most parties do, with my guests walking idly around, admiring the spectacular view from Sam’s deck, eating, chatting with each other. I had a nice long talk with Janette about her practice and the inner-city clinic where she volunteered, and we made plans to meet in Boston. Danny chastised me for not attending one of his softball games, a neglect I swore I would quickly amend. My mom buzzed around happily, urging people to eat more, and Sam and my dad had their heads together in the kitchen. I passed Curtis and Mitch, who were holding hands and murmuring to each other, smiling.