by Lisa Dyson
She finally dug her phone from the bottom of a reusable tote bag where she’d put her shoes, makeup bag and anything else she’d thought she might need during the day while away from the hotel.
The phone number was unfamiliar. She opened the message, and a warmth went through her as she read it.
This is Jack. Got your number from Charlotte. Hope that’s okay. Hope to talk to you soon.
She immediately wrote back, careful not to sound too eager. After all, she was off men.
Of course it’s ok. Nice to meet you.
She hesitated before hitting Send. “Nice to meet you?” she said out loud. “How formal.” She erased it and tried again.
Of course it’s ok. Call me anytime.
Again, she hesitated. Now she sounded desperate. Or at least easy. She deleted it and considered what to say.
Maybe she should ignore his text until tomorrow morning. Pretend she was asleep when it came in.
No. She really wanted him to know she felt something with him, without actually telling him that. Even though she really was off men.
She took another approach. She texted Charlotte.
Hope this didn’t wake you. It’s Allie. I need advice. Jack texted me. I want to answer, but don’t want him to get the wrong idea.
She only waited a minute or two before Charlotte replied.
It’s obvious you like each other. Why play hard-to-get?
Charlotte had no idea about Allie’s poor decisions when it came to men. She typed quickly.
I’ve made wrong choices before. Don’t want to repeat mistakes.
Charlotte wrote back.
Give him a chance. He’s been a good friend to me.
Allie considered that. She had seen firsthand how comforting Jack had been to Charlotte in the short time she’d known him.
But she barely knew Charlotte. How could she know how good the woman was at judging character? Should she take Charlotte at her word that Jack was a good guy? She looked exactly like Allie, but what if she was also as bad at judging people as Allie was?
She wrote back to Charlotte.
Thanks. Will think about it. Talk to you soon.
Charlotte replied.
Looking forward to it. Call or text me tomorrow after your family stuff. You could come over to my house so we can talk more.
Allie thought about how much work she still had to do. She really needed to drive back to Providence, but getting to know Charlotte better had become a top priority.
Sounds good. I do have to get work done before Monday morning, so I can’t stay too long.
Charlotte wrote back.
I’ll search through my mom’s files to see if I can find anything about my adoption before you get here. Can’t wait.
Allie smiled. Me, neither.
She went back to Jack’s message and hit Reply.
I’m glad she gave you my number. Hope to talk to you soon.
She hit Send and felt a rush of adrenaline. This could be a huge mistake.
She stripped out of her dress and underwear before heading to the bathroom, where she’d left her nightshirt hanging on the back of the door. She slipped it on, brushed her teeth, washed her face and applied moisturizer.
When she came out of the bathroom, there was a voice mail message on her phone. She must not have heard the phone ring over the water running.
She smiled as she listened to Jack’s message.
“Hey, you said you hoped to talk soon, so here I am.” He paused. “Guess you must be sleeping by now or maybe don’t want to talk this late. I wanted to say good-night.” He paused again. “So good night.”
She shook her head, both amused and touched. Damn, he’s good.
As much as she desperately wanted to call him back, she resisted.
After all, she was off men.
* * *
EARLY THE NEXT AFTERNOON, Charlotte was on a mission. She diligently went through box after box after box of her mother’s papers. She’d repeatedly put off the task, but now that she’d met Allie, Charlotte had a driving force behind her.
When she’d cleaned out her mother’s house to sell it after her death, Charlotte hadn’t taken the time to go through everything. Instead, she’d packed the papers into plastic boxes with lids. Now she regretted not sorting through them earlier. Mom had been a saver. She had receipts and old bank statements from over three decades ago, but nothing yet that pertained to Charlotte’s adoption.
She’d like to take a good look at her birth certificate, but she had it locked in her safe-deposit box at the bank, which was closed on Sunday afternoons. She hadn’t used it in years.
Her phone went off, announcing a text message. She put down the pile of papers she was sorting and grabbed it. Allie.
I’ll be there in a few minutes if that’s still ok.
Charlotte replied.
Can’t wait. See you soon.
She’d texted her address to Allie last night. She’d been hoping that she’d have found something by now to help them make sense of the information they had about their adoptions—which was little to nothing.
Charlotte went to the kitchen to wash up, feeling gritty after handling all the dusty papers.
By the time she stepped out onto her porch, Allie was parking her car.
“Hi,” Charlotte said with a wave, trying to control her excitement.
Allie grinned back and waved. “Hi, Charlotte!” As she got closer to the porch, she commented, “Great house!”
Charlotte appreciated the compliment. “Thanks! I fell in love with it the moment I saw it.”
“How long have you been here?” Allie asked as she ascended the porch steps and the two women hugged.
“Since last fall, a few months after my mom died. I had given up the apartment I’d been renting and moved in with her to take care of her while she was sick. When she passed away, I sold her house because I couldn’t bear to be in it without her, surrounded by so many memories.” She opened the front door and stepped inside. “Come on in. I’ll give you a tour if you’d like.”
Allie’s eyes widened. “I’d love it. These older homes have so much character.”
“Character,” Charlotte repeated. “Yeah, that’s a nice way to put it. More like repairs when you’re least expecting them.”
They laughed as they went through the living room and into the dining room, then on into the kitchen. “There’s a full bath in there,” Charlotte said, pointing to the doorway in the dining room. “There’s a shed in the small backyard, and I’m trying to grow a few vegetables in a garden, but nothing else exciting out there. Let’s go upstairs.”
The narrow staircase was on the side wall of the dining room, and Charlotte told Allie about the house’s history as they went up to the second floor. “The house was built in 1900, and the hardwood floors are original. In the eighties, the owners made some improvements, but I’ve been told they didn’t keep with the history of the house. In 2005, the home was sold. Thankfully, the new owners returned it to its turn-of-the-century feel by uncovering the brick wall on the far end of the house and installing more appropriate plumbing fixtures.”
They reached a small hallway. “Straight ahead is the guest room,” Charlotte said, and then led the way through another doorway. “In here is where I have my studio set up.”
Allie entered the room. “I love this! The light is wonderful in here.”
There were large windows at eye level, as well as a gorgeous window near the ceiling that ran the length of the wall and had amazing scrollwork. “That window up there and the skylight were what sold me on the house.”
“I should’ve asked you what you do, but you’re obviously an artist,” Allie said, looking around at the supplies and paraphernalia Charlotte had neatly arranged. She’d spent more time organizing in here than going through her mother’s old files. “Is it for fun, or is this how you make your living?”
“I’m lucky enough to be able to support myself with my art,” Charlotte said
. “I’ve had several shows in the past few years, but not many since my mom got sick. Most of my sales right now are over the internet. My dream is to open a brick-and-mortar gallery.”
“Newport is a great place for that.”
“That’s actually why I decided to move here from Vermont. Newport’s also close enough to New York City and Boston to be able to have shows in those cities.”
“This is wonderful,” Allie said of a depiction of some historic Newport doorways done in pastels, hung above a shelving unit.
“Thank you. I did that about two years ago when I came here to paint some of the historic buildings. That’s when I fell in love with the town.” About a year prior to her mother’s diagnosis.
Allie pointed to a door on the far wall. “Is your bedroom through there?”
“Yes. Kind of an odd setup having to go through this room to get to that room. That’s why I chose the other bedroom for guests.” Not that she’d had any visitors except her college roommate coming through town a few weeks ago. “You said you have work to do today. What do you do?”
“I’m in advertising,” Allie said. “I recently started my own agency, and I’m hoping to land a large account tomorrow. My presentation is close to being done, but it’s not quite there.”
“How exciting. Somehow I’m not surprised that we are both entrepreneurs.”
“With a creative side, too,” Allie added. “I’m not nearly as good as you, but I do a lot of freehand drawing in my line of work, as well as animation.”
“Wow, that’s another thing we have in common. Come on.” Charlotte waved her hand. “Let’s go downstairs and see what else we can learn about each other.”
* * *
WHEN THEY WERE seated in Charlotte’s inviting living room, sipping cold drinks, Charlotte asked, “How was your family brunch?”
Allie rolled her eyes. “Let’s just say I’m glad this weekend is almost over.”
Charlotte laughed. “That bad?”
“You don’t know the half of it. I’m honestly not into the whole wedding and marriage thing, but my mother lives for those occasions.” Does she ever.
“Did you tell her about me?” Charlotte asked.
Allie shook her head. “No. Though I did make sure I was seated next to her so I could casually ask about my adoption, but she kept changing the subject. I can’t help feeling she’s not telling me something.”
“Sounds like it,” Charlotte agreed. Her mouth twisted. “I didn’t have any better luck looking through my mother’s things.”
They talked for quite a while about everything they could think of—their childhoods, their hobbies, their likes and dislikes.
“Oh!” Allie jumped up from her seat when the mantel clock chimed. “It’s five o’clock. I didn’t know it was so late. I better get going.”
“I didn’t, either.” Charlotte got up and walked Allie out to the porch. “Call me tomorrow to let me know how your presentation went.”
Allie nodded. “I will. And I’ll see if I can figure out how we go about getting a DNA test done.”
“The sooner the better.”
Allie waved and got into her car. She watched Charlotte pull a dead leaf from a hanging flowering plant on her porch before going inside her house.
Allie turned on the engine and was about to pull out of her parking spot when she saw Jack crossing the street. He was in khaki shorts and a T-shirt. His hair was damp, as if he’d just showered. She lowered her window.
“Hey,” he said when he got close. He smelled delicious. Fresh and clean.
“Hey,” she replied in like fashion. “You live right there?”
His smile warmed her insides.
“Yep,” he said. “Did you have a good visit with Charlotte?”
“I did.” She smiled back. “I’m on my way home. Work to finish for tomorrow.”
He nodded. “You said you live in Providence? Do you work there, too?”
“I do.” She named the office building where her firm was located.
“That’s about two blocks from my office. We should meet for coffee or lunch tomorrow.”
Before Allie left for home, they made plans to meet for coffee at 2:00 p.m. at a café they both frequented. Allie was surprised she’d never run into him before. Although she probably wouldn’t have given him a second glance since she was off men.
Correction: she definitely would have given him more than a glance or two, but she would have reminded herself about her promise to not engage.
Yet here she was, making plans for a coffee date with Jack.
Go figure.
CHAPTER FOUR
JACK WAS UP early the next morning after a late night of prep for his ten o’clock meeting. Fighting the morning traffic from Newport to Providence made his trip a few minutes longer than expected, but it gave him more time to anticipate coffee with Allie.
What was it about her that made him feel different than he did about Charlotte? Physically, they were so much alike. Until he heard they were born in different states, he would have sworn they were identical twins. Perhaps they were sisters with the same father, different mother. Or at least cousins. The central question remained: Why was he attracted to one and not the other?
And, man, was he hot for Allie. His body reacted just at the thought of her. He shifted in his seat as much as his seat belt allowed.
His cell phone played a piano riff from the center console, announcing an incoming call. He hit the button on his hands-free device. “Jack Fletcher.”
“Good morning, Jack,” the female caller said. “This is Monica Everly.”
He recognized the deep, gravelly voice of his potential client. “How are you, Ms. Everly?” The fiftysomething woman had started her successful organic and sustainable farm-animal food company a decade ago and was now looking to broaden her scope by introducing organic dog and cat food.
Jack was determined that he would be the one to make her expansion from farms into people’s homes successful.
“What can I do for you?” he asked.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to postpone our meeting this morning. I’ve got a family emergency.”
“Emergency? I hope it’s nothing too serious.”
“We’ll know soon enough,” Ms. Everly said in her no-nonsense manner. “I’m on my way to the vet with our Daisy. She was up all night with a cough. I hope she didn’t pick up that nasty kennel cough from the groomer’s last weekend.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that. I hope she feels better soon.”
Jack had been introduced to Daisy, a sixty-pound rescue mutt with no manners, when he first met with her owner about moving the company forward into new markets. Ms. Everly claimed their current advertising agency wasn’t taking her future seriously. Daisy had her own space in Ms. Everly’s office, including a bed, water and food bowls and a basket of toys.
“After I know what’s going on with Daisy, we can reschedule your presentation.”
“That sounds like a plan,” Jack said. “I hope all goes well.”
Ms. Everly disconnected in silence.
Jack was beyond disappointed. The firm put all their efforts into securing this account, and they couldn’t afford a delay.
He was close to his office when the piano riff on his cell phone sounded again. He pushed the button to connect. “Jack Fletcher.”
“Jack, my boy, just checking in.” His grandfather sounded more robust than he had on Saturday morning. “Is your presentation up to snuff?”
Jack proceeded to tell him about the meeting being postponed because of the dog.
“The dog?” Granddad practically shouted into the phone. “Damn! We need that account now.”
Nothing Jack hadn’t heard before. His grandfather had been pressuring Jack constantly about luring the client to their firm. His grandfather repeatedly reminded Jack that the fate of the company rested on his shoulders, and Ms. Everly’s business was their best hope.
“Did you reschedule?”
“Not yet. She wants to hear the vet’s diagnosis first.”
“I want you to come to the hospital,” his grandfather said. “We can go over your presentation and decide how to handle this delay.”
“I really need—”
“I’ll see you in a few minutes.” Granddad disconnected with no further discussion.
The hospital wasn’t too far from the office. Jack called his assistant to update her as he entered the hospital garage and then found a parking space.
“I’m here to see Patrick Fletcher,” Jack said to the woman behind a large desk in the bustling lobby of the hospital.
Her fingers clicked on the keyboard while she watched her monitor. “Room 317.” She handed him a visitor badge and said, “The elevators are down that hall and around the corner to the right. Have a nice day.”
“Thanks. You, too.” He clipped the badge to his dress-shirt breast pocket. Then he headed to the bank of elevators.
According to the sign when he got out on the third floor, his grandfather’s room was to the right. When Jack had visited him before the wedding on Saturday, Granddad had been transferred to ICU as a precaution. Yesterday he had been moved back to this floor, but to a different room than before.
“Hey, Granddad,” Jack greeted him as he knocked on the doorframe of his open door.
The older man was sitting up, the head of his bed raised. He set aside the newspaper he’d been reading. “Hello, my boy. Come on in and tell me more about the animal lady.”
Jack leaned in to hug him, glad to see his color improved. “Not until you tell me how you’re feeling.” Jack hadn’t gotten a chance to ask him when they spoke on the phone. “You’re looking much better than you did Saturday morning.”
“Good enough to go home, but they won’t let me.” He went on to tell Jack about the medical tests his doctor still wanted to do. “Besides having low blood sugar the other day, he’s still worried about my heart.”
Jack moved the lone vinyl chair closer to the hospital bed. “Better to be sure you’re okay.” His grandfather lived alone in a high-rise, even though Jack had been trying to get the seventy-nine-year-old to move into a senior assisted-living facility.
