Be careful about making rash
judgments. Sometimes first impressions
are wrong.
—Excerpt from
Finding Mr. Right-for-You
by Dr. Kate
Chapter Twelve
Kate slipped from the bed shortly after four o’clock and felt her way across the floor. From the floor on Lucas’s side of the bed, Bo shifted. As she pulled her thin robe from the hook and tiptoed from the room, she heard his toenails clicking across the wood floor. Kate saw no way of making him return without disturbing Lucas.
The house was dark and quiet, except for the living room clock ticking off time. In the darkness she made her way to the back door and opened it quietly, keeping Bo inside. A warm breeze tugged at her cotton robe, and she gathered the belt, tightening it around her waist before sitting.
The dream that had awakened her surrounded her like a thick wet fog. In it, Bryan had come to her office, climbing the stairs with purposeful steps like Brody had. But Bryan wasn’t there for advice. He took her in his arms and proposed to her. When they left the building, they weren’t on Main Street, but at Jetties Beach for their wedding. As Kate approached the altar, he turned. But it wasn’t Bryan. It was Lucas.
Now, Kate watched the moonlight flickering on the surface of the shadowed water. She closed her eyes and leaned against the wooden back. The oscillating sound of the waves washing the shore-line didn’t soothe her. Inside she felt as jolted as she had in the dream when she realized Lucas had replaced Bryan.
It happened for real too. Kate sighed. She wished she could fast-forward through the year and get her life back on track. How had she gotten so far off course? What was she doing in this house with a man she barely knew and hardly liked?
That’s not true, her conscience corrected. He might grate on the nerves sometimes, but Lucas has his good qualities. And the last few weeks had been better than she expected in terms of getting along with him. It was just that her life was careening out of control like it hadn’t since she was a child. She felt shaken and vulnerable.
A vision of her mom surfaced from the dusty corridors of her mind. Kate had been eleven and had just returned from her best friend’s house. She often went to Mackenzie’s house just to escape her own. But Mackenzie was mad because Kate never invited her over, and Kate had run out of excuses.
Kate closed and locked the front door before removing her snow boots and wiggling her numb toes. “Mom?” she called, not knowing whether or not to expect an answer. Sometimes she found her mom doing laundry and humming game-show tunes, and other times Kate wished she hadn’t returned at all. It was the uncertainty she hated most. Even at eleven she knew it was true.
There was no answer on this night, so Kate set her heavy book bag on the rocking chair, flipped off the lights, and climbed the creaky stairs. Maybe her mom was asleep. She crossed her fingers on the banister as she ascended.
The bathroom light glowed in the darkness. She opened the door and found her mom on the green shag carpet next to a mystery stain they’d inherited with the house. One of her mom’s sweater-clad arms draped over the tub ledge, and the other hugged a clear bottle of alcohol. The room smelled sour, and Kate turned on the fan.
“Mom,” Kate whispered. She shoved aside the fuzzy pink slippers her dad had sent for her birthday and knelt on the carpet. “Mom.”
Her mother stirred as Kate slipped the empty bottle, still warm from her mother’s hand, out of her grasp. “Katie, baby.” She licked cracked lips and opened her eyes to glassy slits, reaching toward Kate with her delicate white hand. It didn’t quite make it and instead thumped on the carpet beside her leg.
“Come on, Mom. Let’s get you to bed.” Kate helped her mom stand, wrapped an arm around her gaunt waist. Propping her mom’s arm around her own shoulders, Kate led her next door to the bedroom. Her mom wobbled and staggered, bumping her bony hip into Kate’s and stepping on her cold toes.
When they reached the bed, Kate helped her mom out of her sweater and black slacks. She tugged a nightgown over her head, turned back the covers, and guided her mom into the bed, then pulled the woolly blanket over her. Her breath reeked of vodka.
“Katie . . .” If her mom wanted to say more, it was swallowed by oblivion.
“’Night, Momma,” Kate whispered before extinguishing the bedside lamp and leaving the room.
It hadn’t been the first time Kate put her mom to bed and it wasn’t the last. If her dad had known how bad things had gotten for her mother, he would’ve gotten custody of Kate. But Kate couldn’t stand the thought of leaving her mother all alone, so she kept their secret and spent her childhood feeling anxious and ashamed.
Now, as Kate curled her leg under her, she realized life felt as out of control as it had during those days. And just like then, there was nothing she could do but wait and hope things improved.
Only they never had. Her mother had died an alcoholic.
She tried a pep talk. You made a better life for yourself. Look how far you’ve come from that cold house on Stinton Street. You have a successful career, a promising book, and you get to help people for a living. Help people that otherwise might be swallowed whole by their problems, like your mom.
But regardless of all my planning, I lost Bryan to another woman, and I’m married to a man I don’t love.
Only for a year, Kate. Bryan will come to his senses when he realizes his mistake. This other woman is just an outlet for his fear of commitment. Once he realizes that, he’ll be back.
What am I saying? I can’t believe I still want him back after what he did.
Beside her, the door clicked open, and Bo barreled through, with Lucas following. In the dark, his silhouette revealed tousled hair and a shirt that hung open at the front. Kate looked away.
“You okay?” Lucas whispered.
Bo licked the back of her hand, leaving a warm, wet film on her skin. Kate wiped her hand on her robe and crossed her arms.
“I’m fine. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Lucas sank into the chair next to hers and silence settled around them. His presence changed the atmosphere. The masculine scent, the warmth of his large frame only inches away, the sound of his quiet breaths. Before it had felt empty. Now it felt . . . alive.
Kate shifted in her chair. Why had he come out here? He was an early riser, but not this early. Even the birds still slept and there was no light yet on the horizon.
“My family treating you all right? My mom didn’t say something to hurt your feelings?”
“Your family’s fine.” Strange but fine. She hadn’t gotten far with Susan, but it was early. First Susan had to like and trust Kate. Then maybe she would open up. And given the history between Susan and Kate’s mom, that was going to take time.
“Mom can be tactless sometimes.”
Tactless she could handle. It was the crazy that unnerved her. Lucas was probably wondering when Kate was going to keep her end of the bargain. Maybe he didn’t understand that subtlety took time. “We’re getting to know each other. I’m hoping in the next month or so I can introduce the subject of marriage. I’ll let you know how it goes and keep you up-to-date on any progress.”
The chair creaked as Lucas shifted. A cricket chirped from someplace under the deck. “Not worried about that.”
Kate wondered why he brought it up. Oh, well. She was too tired to figure Lucas out.
She wondered if Bryan was still in bed. She wondered if he was alone. There were things she missed about him—mannerisms. Did Bryan set his hand in the small of the woman’s back when he escorted her to the car? Did he hold her pinky on the console as he drove?
A yawn started, and she stifled it. The dream that had chased her from bed kept her from returning for fear that it would resume. Her only hope of escaping it was to stay awake. And even that wasn’t working.
Lucas felt Kate move in the darkness. The smell of her hair, a blend of sunshine and citrus, wafted over on a breeze. Did she know how madde
ning it was to be so close, so married, and yet have none of the normal privileges?
No, of course she didn’t. From her perspective this was a business deal. Lucas’s presence was a means to a goal. She had no idea how much he craved her. How he loved her slightly pointed chin and her almond-shaped eyes, loved the way she brushed her hair behind her ears when she was intent on something.
His advice to Jamie replayed in his mind: “Don’t be afraid to let him know you like him.” What a hypocrite he was.
Bo rubbed against his leg, and Lucas set a hand on his furry head. His situation was different from Jamie’s. Kate didn’t have feelings for him. She was still in love with Bryan. Was probably thinking about him right now. Maybe that’s why she wasn’t sleeping.
He remembered the nights after Emily had died. Lying awake until his eyes ached. Turning a dozen different ways on the bed. Feeling for her empty pillow and pulling it to his chest. If Kate was going through anything close to that, he needed to give her space. And time to get to know him.
“Go for a walk?” he asked. Bo perked up at the word, but Kate only looked his way.
“I’m in my robe.”
He scooted to the edge of his seat. “Come on. We’ll be back before light.”
“But what about—”
“Who cares?” he said. “It’ll clear your head.” He extended his hand, wondering if she could see it in the moonlight.
She was going to say no anyway. What was he thinking? Kate wouldn’t go for a walk unless she’d penciled it in a week ago.
“I guess I can go. I’ll have to change first, though.” She was inside before he could reply.
When she returned, they stepped off the deck and into the grass. Somewhere in the distance a dog barked, and Bo stopped to listen, his bulk a shadow in the dim light. Then, satisfied the other was of no importance, he led the way down the path toward the water.
When they reached the beach, they turned away from town. The wet, packed sand was cool and spongy under his feet. Lucas wondered what Kate was thinking. He remembered his advice to Jamie and started there.
“How’s your column going?”
A wave washed up under their feet. Kate sucked in her breath at the coldness of the foamy water and scampered a few feet up the beach. “I’ve decided on the letter for my column. The woman wrote a four-page saga, so tomorrow I’ll boil it all down to a one-hundred-word question.”
He had no idea what went into an advice column, and he started to ask how she’d become syndicated, then thought again. Maybe she didn’t want to talk about work at four thirty in the morning.
Bo ran ahead of them, trotting through the intermittent waves that washed ashore, then turned toward them, a still, shaggy silhouette. The moonlight offered enough light to see by. It washed gently over Kate’s features, highlighting the bridge of her nose, the bow of her lip. Lucas looked away.
A wind blew across the water, and Kate shivered. “I didn’t expect it to be so cool.”
Lucas shrugged out of his shirt and placed it over her shoulders.
“Thanks.” She put her arms through the sleeves, and he thought her eyes lingered on his bare chest for a moment.
Kate pulled Lucas’s shirt tight, overlapping it like a robe. The material was still warm from his skin and smelled like him. The gesture had surprised her, but he’d done many small things that surprised her. Pulling out her chair at dinner, pouring her coffee every morning . . . And she had to admit he was trying to mend his messy ways. He’d even been hanging up his wet towels.
She wondered how Emily had coped with his disorganization. But maybe Emily had been like Lucas. Or maybe she’d considered Lucas’s homemade meals and good manners a fair trade-off. Kate wanted to ask, but he never mentioned Emily. Bringing up his late wife would feel as if she was trespassing on sacred ground.
She wondered how Lucas felt about their pretend marriage after having had the real thing. It must feel hollow. Kate could hardly believe even now that he’d done it. That he’d stepped in at the last moment and rescued her.
Then again, he was getting something in return.
“Tell me about your dad,” Kate said. Susan was guarded, but maybe Kate could get a fuller picture by learning about Roy.
They caught up with Bo, and he ran ahead of them down the shore, a giant lumbering fur ball.
“He’s a man’s man. Always liked to work with his hands. His dad was a criminal lawyer, and from what I understand, was disappointed when Dad didn’t follow in his footsteps.”
“Your dad held his ground?”
“Yep. Dad got a job working for a builder on the island. He framed houses and eventually started his own company.”
“Is that how you got involved with wood?” Another wave washed over Kate’s feet, tickling her with foam.
“Dad had me using tools by the time I was four.”
“But you didn’t want to build houses?”
He shook his head. “I like the detailed work. Knew it the first time I made a mantel for a house we built.”
“When did your dad retire? And what happened to his business?”
Lucas picked up a shell, examined it, then tossed it into the water before answering. “A few years ago he started having some trembling in his hands. A while later he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease.”
Kate’s stomach knotted. How come she hadn’t known this before? Neither Lucas nor Susan had mentioned it, and she hadn’t noticed any trembling. “I didn’t know.”
“He decided to sell the business. He was set for retirement anyway, and the work wasn’t good for him in the long run.
“What’s his prognosis?” She knew a little about Parkinson’s, but how quickly did it progress?
“It’s a degenerative disease, but its rate of progression varies. Eventually he’ll be completely incapacitated, but he’s only stage one. There are five stages, and he’s progressing slowly.”
“Do you think the diagnosis played a role in their marriage problems? It must cause a lot of stress.” Why would Lucas worry about them divorcing when his father was ill? Surely Susan wouldn’t leave him now. But then, how well did she know Susan?
“They were devastated when they found out. We all were.”
No wonder she hadn’t known about the disease. Maybe the family was in denial. How would they cope as his condition worsened? “It’s lucky you live so close. Your mom will need help.” Eventually Roy would be bedridden, and Susan wouldn’t be able to handle his weight.
“That’s why I built next door.”
Kate met Lucas’s gaze in the darkness. A glimmer of moonlight shone in his shadowed eyes. “Oh. I thought—” Kate looked away, embarrassed. She’d thought he was a momma’s boy. There was no kind way to say it. It hadn’t been kind to think it. Especially when his real reason was so unselfish.
“After Emily died, I couldn’t live in that house anymore.” He seemed about to say more, but stopped.
Kate wanted to know more, but what right did she have to pry? After finding Emily dead in the house, Lucas probably couldn’t put the image from his mind. Who could blame him for moving on, starting over? But instead of choosing his own place to live, he’d built beside his parents, to be available for them, and instead of starting over with a new love, he’d stepped in and rescued her. The more she learned about Lucas, the more she realized she hadn’t known him at all.
Once you know what you’re looking for in a
man, don’t settle for less. And most important,
make sure the man you’re dating meets your
qualifications before you become emotionally
invested.
—Excerpt from
Finding Mr. Right-for-You
by Dr. Kate
Chapter Thirteen
“Let’s go sailing,” Lucas said as Kate stepped off the treadmill the following Saturday, toweling the sweat from her forehead.
He’d just returned from walking Bo, and the dog trotted over to Kate and nud
ged her toward the bathroom as if to escort her to the shower. Like she needed help deciding where she was going. She stopped at the doorway and pushed Bo with her knee, glaring at the dog.
“I can’t,” she said. “I need to clean and catch up on laundry and prepare for a phone interview. Plus we need groceries, and I need to run to the bank.”
“I saw your list.” Lucas filled a glass with tap water. “We can do those things tomorrow. I’ll help.” He gulped down the water.
“The bank is closed tomorrow.”
“We can run by the bank on our way to the harbor.”
“My phone interview—”
“Can wait until tomorrow.” He set the glass on the countertop. At her look, he opened the dishwasher and set it inside. “Any more excuses?”
They weren’t excuses. Well, not exactly. She just wanted to get her list done. But she’d never seen Lucas’s eyes lit like they were now, and he’d done so much for her lately in return for so little.
“Come on. It’s seventy-five degrees, the sky is clear blue, and there’s a good steady breeze.”
“I’ve never been sailing,” she said lamely, hoping he’d rescind the offer.
“Doesn’t matter.” His Colgate smile illuminated his face. “Get your shower, and I’ll gather supplies.”
Two hours later, Kate watched Lucas from a bench seat on the boat. He hadn’t stopped since they’d left the harbor, pulling on this line and that, tying them off on their cleats.
“Can I do anything?” She tightened the strap on her bulky orange life vest.
He pulled up a sail, his muscles straining under his red tank. “Nope,” he called over the wind. As he turned the boat with the tiller, the sails fluttered like gulls’ wings, and he adjusted them with one hand. He continued doing what seemed like three things at a time, handling the jobs with the ease and dexterity of a man who’d done it a thousand times.
Soon, he turned the boat slightly into the wind and pulled the white sails tight. Kate dug in her satchel for sunglasses and joined Lucas where he steered the vessel. The deck felt unsteady under her feet, and she grappled for a hold.
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