The Book Club Hotel(37)

Delphi nodded and Noah winked at her and then waited for Hattie to get in the car before settling himself in the driver’s seat.

Here in the confines of the car she was even more aware of the size and power of him. She told herself that it was his kindness to her child that was making her feel this intense and almost painful longing.

She wondered if he was annoyed at the prospect of driving her home. “Your parents are so kind.”

“They love you. Think of you as a daughter.”

“So what does that make you—my brother?” She saw his smile flash.

“Definitely not that. And you wouldn’t want me as a brother. I’m annoying. Only child, so terrible at sharing. If there’s one piece of shortbread left on the plate, then that’s going to be mine. You wouldn’t get special treatment. I’d run right over you.”

She didn’t believe it for a moment. She already knew how generous he was. She’d seen evidence of it repeatedly.

“I’m an only child.” And she’d often wished she’d had someone to share the ups and downs of life with.

“There you go. Can you imagine the scene in the kitchen? Both of us fighting over that single piece of shortbread? It could get vicious.” He started the engine and headed down the track toward the road. “So, about dinner. What time shall I pick you up on Thursday?”

She glanced at him. “You’re not seriously going to take me to dinner?”

“If you know my mother as well as I think you know my mother, then you’ll also know that it’s going to be easier to go to dinner than to argue about it.”

Her heart kicked up its pace. “Do you always do everything your mother tells you?”

“Hardly ever,” he said. “Just the things that seem like they might be a good idea. You have been working too hard. So have I. We both need to eat.”

“I don’t know.” She pretended to think. “Are you going to fight me for my dinner?”

“That depends.”

“On?”

“On whether you order something that looks better than what’s on my plate. If I prefer yours, I might fight you. Does seven twenty-five work for you?”

“Seven twenty-five? That’s very specific.”

“My mother suggested seven-thirty. It doesn’t pay to have everything go her way.”

It would have been easy to say yes. She wanted to say yes very badly. Being with him made her feel lighter, even though the load of her life was just the same.

She tried to think through the implications. Consequences, she thought. Everything had consequences.

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

“Let’s find out, shall we? It’s just dinner, Hattie.” He pulled up outside the inn and turned to look at her. “Dinner, that’s all. If you hate my table manners and decide you never want to eat with me again, I won’t bear a grudge.” He was smiling and so was she.

“How can you be sure? You might decide to punish me by giving me the smallest, weediest Christmas trees from now on.”

“I only grow magnificent specimens.”

“You might give me one with a sloping trunk so that all my decorations slide off.”

He considered. “That’s possible, but you’ll have to take your chances. You seem like a risk taker to me.”

They both knew she was anything but a risk taker, but the conversation had made her realize how much she wanted to spend an evening with him, just the two of them.

He was making it all sound simple and she was ready to go along with that, even though she knew it wasn’t simple at all. But then life rarely was simple, was it? It was full of good decisions and bad decisions, of twists and turns, ups and downs, moments of intense wrenching pain and, occasionally, moments of heightened joy and pleasure.

And when those good moments came, you had to grab them.

“All right,” she said. “Thursday. Seven twenty-five.”

And she had to hope this turned out to be a good decision.



EIGHT


Claudia

“You could retrain as a teacher,” Anna said. “I’ve always thought that would be a rewarding career.”

“I don’t want to retrain as a teacher.” Claudia was in the back of the car, staring out the window as they left Anna’s house and neighborhood behind. She was trying not to remember the look Anna and Pete had shared as they’d kissed each other goodbye. “And anyway, I’m too old to rethink my whole life and start again.”

Or maybe she wasn’t ready for a rethink. She was still adjusting to the fact that she didn’t want to cook. There had never been a time in her life when she hadn’t wanted to cook. It was like losing a part of herself. Remembering how food used to excite her, she felt bereft.

“You’re never too old to rethink your life.” Erica was driving, but that didn’t stop her joining in the conversation. “And don’t give me drama while I’m driving.”

Anna glanced at her. “Are you okay? You seem a little tense this morning. Didn’t you sleep?”

“I slept well, thank you.”

“Was it the work call you took at breakfast? You usually have a no-work-calls rule when we’re away.”

“This was an exception, but no, that’s not the reason. And I’m not tense, I’m focused.”