“It’s the same for me,” I said, answering the question in his eyes.
His body relaxed. “I already consider us serious, and I have hopes for our future—and that future includes your child.” He gave a slight grin. “And maybe others.”
“Oh. Wow. Okay, then.” A sense of surety floated in. I could see Ethan in my future, in my daughter’s future, and not only did it feel right, I’d have bet money at that second that it was right. A little more of the fear from the previous evening slipped away.
“Feel better?”
“Yes. I mean, from a practical standpoint.” Heat rushed through me. I didn’t care. “Today makes me…happy.”
“That makes two of us.” His fingers brushed my knees and another blast of warmth saturated me. “Ready for lunch?”
At that point, talking was so not going to happen, so I nodded.
“Wait there. I’ll call you when it’s ready.” He disappeared into the cabin.
“I can help,” I called from behind him.
He popped his head back out and tossed me his sexy-as-sin grin. “Let me do this. I want to take care of you today.”
Take care of me? Wow again. “Okay…I’ll just sit here.”
While I waited, I rehashed our entire conversation in my head, and the surety I’d felt earlier strengthened. Yes, I still needed to take the proper steps, to find the facts that would line up with my feelings, but really, I didn’t think that was going to be a problem. At least, I hoped it wouldn’t. Really, really hoped.
Less than twenty minutes later, Ethan returned and held out his hand. I gripped it and, with a gentle tug, he pulled me to my feet, his touch both electrifying and calming. We took the few steps down to the cabin in single file, with him leading the way. Curious, I stopped at the bottom and looked around.
The room was small but impeccably kept, which didn’t surprise me. A little table sat on one side, surrounded by booth-type seats. The other wall held a sink, minimal counter space, and a tiny refrigerator. A narrow door led to the restroom, or as Ethan called it, the head. All in all, nice but nothing spectacular.
What staggered me was the attention he’d put into our lunch, into the scene he’d created. He’d found battery-operated candles somewhere, and two of them were on the table, softly glowing. Soft music from an MP3 player filled the air, and there were two champagne glasses with a bubbly, amber liquid in them. “Ginger ale?” I asked, nodding toward them.
“Yes. Someday, it will be champagne. After the baby.”
One by one, he lifted the covers off of the food. There was a cold chicken pasta dish, fresh fruit, and some dinner rolls. There was also a container of chocolate chip cookies in a very recognizable box.
“You’ve met my sister?” I asked.
“I stopped by A Taste of Magic yesterday and quizzed her on your favorite foods. I wanted everything to be just right.”
Another type of glow eased in. With a shot of surprise, I realized I hadn’t been quite this content in a very long time. “It is right, Ethan. Exactly right.”
“I’m glad.” He picked up his ginger ale filled champagne glass. “To the most curious, intriguing, and breathtaking woman I’ve ever met. I hope we share many meals together.”
Because I so seconded that, I lifted my glass and clinked his. “I couldn’t have planned a better day. You…well, you continue to startle me.”
I spoke too soon, because what he did next startled me even more. After we slid into our seats, he fed me my first bite of pasta, and then leaned over and kissed me. No man, ever, unless it was my father when I was a child, had ever fed me a bite of anything. And as weird as it might sound, not only did that one little action completely melt my heart, but it so turned me on. Who knew feeding someone could do that? Not me, that was for sure.
We ate our lunch and then returned to the deck. The rest of the day passed in a blur of laughter, more kissing, and by the time my head hit the pillow that night, I knew I was a goner.
I’d fallen in love with Ethan Gallagher.
Grandma Verda stared at me stubbornly, her frail shoulders set in a rigid line. “You have to do this. I hope you’re right and Ethan’s the one, but with what you experienced the other night, you can’t chance it, Alice.”
I’d planned on telling her and my sister about Miranda having twins, but it seemed that conversation wasn’t going to happen today. I scrunched my hands into fists and returned her stare. “I’m not chancing anything, Grandma. But I’m not setting up any dates with these”—my gaze flipped over the files stacked on my dining room table—“models yet, either.”
“What if you’re wrong about Ethan? You’re willing to risk everything on a hunch?” my grandmother demanded.
“The way I feel isn’t a hunch.” But still, her words twisted in my stomach, because no, I wouldn’t risk everything.
Elizabeth cleared her throat. “There is a compromise.” That is my sister, always the peacemaker. And yeah, I so appreciated that.
“Compromises are good,” I said. “I can do a compromise.”
“You don’t have to actually set the dates up yet, but Grandma’s right that you should be prepared…um…ready with a new plan in case everything with Ethan falls apart.” She spoke tentatively, as if afraid of my reaction.
Sighing, I nodded. “I agree with that. I just don’t think I’ll need it.”
Her eyes lit up. “Good! I like Ethan. I thought it was really sweet, his coming by the bakery, and I think the very fact that you’re this confident is a terrific sign. But just in case, why don’t we go through these”—she gestured to the files—“and look for scars that are similar to your drawing? That way, they’re ready to go if you need them. You can set up the dates without any hassle then.”
“That works. As long as you promise you won’t hesitate if anything changes with Ethan,” said Grandma Verda. “I want you and my great-granddaughter to be safe and happy.”
“We’re on the same side. I want the same things, and I already made that promise to myself.” And I’d stick to it. But somehow, even considering an alternative plan felt wrong. Oh. So. Wrong. It was as if I were contemplating cheating—which was ridiculous, given how little Ethan and I had done together, but it still sat inside of me, churning away.
With a heavy swallow, I plopped down in one of my dining room chairs. “Separate them, but make four stacks because Chloe will be here soon.”
Grandma nodded and gathered the files together in front of her. She’d just finished creating four even stacks when Chloe arrived. We filled her in, and she scooted into another seat at the end of the table. “So, I’m looking for photos that match the drawing, correct? Nothing else?”
“I think we each need to make three stacks,” Elizabeth said. “One for those that are really close in all ways: medium to dark shade of hair, size, and the mark. One for those where the mark is close but maybe other things aren’t, yet not enough to be completely ruled out. And then one for those that aren’t similar in the slightest.”
Before we started, I had scanned the beach drawing into my computer and then printed out four copies, so we’d each have one. After I passed them out, we got to it. I counted my stack, and came up with fifteen files. So that meant, altogether, we probably had around sixty possible soul mates sitting on my dining room table. That scared the hell out of me, because I couldn’t see how that many men could be a close enough match to have warranted my grandmother putting them in a file.
But as I began going through them, my fears calmed. Grandma Verda had, indeed, created a large pool of men…and very few of them were even close. Thank God for that. Each file consisted of the paperwork the man had completed, along with several photos of his back and one of his face. By the time I finished sorting, I had two Really Close, three Not So Much But Maybe, and the rest were in the No Way in Hell category.
I shoved the piles away. “Okay, I’m done, but I only have two who are similar enough to even think about.”
Chloe
tipped her head up, smiled at me, and returned to the few files she had remaining. I watched her, thought about the picture I had of her in my bedroom, and so wanted to get it. Of course I didn’t, because it wasn’t the right time. I left it alone.
When all was said and done, there were only four men out of the sixty-plus I even had to be concerned with. One of them was Aaron, the auburn-haired man I’d met the day I’d walked in on Grandma. I didn’t recognize the other three, and I didn’t bother going through the Maybe stacks. If I had to later, they’d be there.
“Now, pass me all the Nos so I can deal with them.” Grandma Verda winked. “Maybe there’s a man for Chloe there.”
A light pink blush tinged my friend’s cheeks. “That’s not necessary, Verda. I’m sort of dating someone right now.”
“That’s okay, dear. You’ll have these to look over later, if it doesn’t work out.”
“Um…Grandma? What are you talking about?” I glanced at Chloe again, and almost laughed at her expression. Hey, she wanted to be a part of a large family, and in my family Grandma Verda’s manipulations were part of the package.
A twinkle sparkled in Grandma’s blue eyes. “I went to a lot of trouble putting all of these together. It would be nice if someone could use them.” She shrugged. “Besides, there’s so much information about these men! You’ll see their pictures, their medical histories, their résumés, and even how well they did on the IQ tests! What could be better?”
Good grief, the woman should open her own matchmaking service.
Surprisingly, Chloe didn’t argue further. I didn’t know if that was because she knew arguing with Grandma Verda was pointless, or if the idea intrigued her.
In minutes, Grandma was flipping through the files at breakneck pace, separating them into four distinct piles. Curiosity flared, and while I shouldn’t have asked, I couldn’t help myself. “Grandma? How are you separating those?”
She laid a hand on the pile farthest to her left. “This is the lemon stack. I wouldn’t recommend dating these fellows based on what I see here.”
Oh my God. It was her fruit thing.
She moved her hand to the next pile. “And these are the pears. Not horrible, but not all that good, either. Consider them just below average. But maybe with some work, they could move up the ranks a bit.”
I bit my lip to keep from laughing.
On the third pile, she grinned. “These are the oranges. They can go either way. They’re usually above average to begin with, but you need to watch them carefully, because they can slip in the other direction. Elizabeth knows all about oranges. Marc was an orange when they married, but ended up being a lemon.”
Elizabeth wrinkled her nose but stayed quiet.
Grandma Verda’s smiled broadened, and the twinkle in her eyes brightened even more. “And these are the pomegranates. Well, I don’t know for sure, so maybe it’s better to say they have pomegranate possibilities. I’d have to spend more time with them to be absolutely sure.”
“Pomegranate possibilities? I’m probably going to be really sorry for asking this, but how did this fruit thing get started? And how’d you decide that pomegranates were the top-shelf men? What about watermelons? Or Asian pears? Or even strawberries?” I pursed my lips, still fighting off laughter.
“Watermelons? Don’t be ridiculous.” She rubber-banded the Pomegranate pile and set it aside. “It’s simple. Years ago, when I started dating again, after your grandfather died, I wanted a quick way to classify the men I met. Lemons were easy, if a tad cliché, so it started with that, and because lemons are fruit, I just took it one step further. Pomegranates are my favorite, so those are the best. The rest I just ranked accordingly.”
My sister laughed. “That’s it? That’s all it is? So your pomegranate would be a pineapple for me, because those are my favorite fruit?”
“Well, no, dear. It’s too late for that. The fruit ranking system is my idea and already in place, so you have to use the fruit I established. Otherwise it would just get too confusing.” She snapped a rubber band around the orange pile. “Take these two stacks home with you, Chloe. Even if you don’t need them, maybe a single girlfriend of yours will.”
Chloe glanced at me but then shrugged. “Sure. Thanks for thinking of me.”
Grandma Verda and Elizabeth departed shortly after, leaving Chloe and me alone. While we sat there and chatted, I went through the files Grandma had left for her. I wanted to see if the same man I’d drawn Chloe with was buried in there somewhere. Because with Grandma Verda? Well, I’d learned that sometimes there was much more she left unsaid than said.
But he wasn’t. So in this case, it seemed what she’d said was actually what she meant. Refocusing on Chloe, I asked, “How are things going with Kyle?”
“Okay. We laugh a lot, and he’s a great kisser, but it’s not like I thought it would be. Not yet, anyway.” Fleeting disappointment made her frown. “But I don’t think he’s changed all that much. Shelby says he’s a commitment-phobe.”
“What do you think?”
“Oh, he’s not even close to being ready to settle down, but that doesn’t mean he won’t change for the right girl.”
“Do you think he’s the right guy for you? That’s the more important question, because if he isn’t, then it doesn’t matter what he thinks.”
“It’s too soon to tell. I like him and we have fun together. That’s enough for now, so don’t worry. I’m not going to make the same mistakes I did last time, I promise.” Her green eyes shone with interest. “Have you had a chance to do that drawing I asked you about? The one of me on my wedding day, or of the guy I’ll end up with?”
My gaze darted downward. I hated lying to Chloe. “I did try. But it didn’t work. I’m sorry. I’ll try again soon, though.”
Her unhappiness came through loud and clear. “I was so hoping you’d be able to do it. Nothing happened at all when you made the wish?”
“I’m sorry,” I said again, not wanting to repeat my lie.
She sighed, and that made me feel worse. “Oh well, better luck next time, right? What about you and Ethan? Things are really going that great?”
A shiver of happiness slipped inside of me, briefly replacing my remorse. “Everything is amazing with him. I’m going to his place for dinner on Friday. I might even stay the night.” Well, actually, I’d already decided, if the opportunity presented itself I was definitely staying.
“Ooh! That’s wonderful. I have a good feeling about him.”
“Me too.”
We chatted for a while longer, and then I picked up the remaining files and dumped them into a brown grocery sack that I slid under my bed. You know, that whole out of sight, out of mind thing. Because what I couldn’t see, maybe I wouldn’t worry about.
After work the following Tuesday, I cruised over to Shelby and Grant’s house. I had a present for the babies, and I also had something I wanted to show Shelby.
The night before, I’d drawn as many of the faces as I could remember from my visions, dreams or whatever, and I wanted to see if Shelby recognized any. I was surprised how easily they came back to me, and I hadn’t even had to use magic to get it done. While Shelby identifying any of them might be a long shot, it was the only thing I could think of to see if she was the family I was supposed to recognize. It wasn’t like I had a lot to go on, other than the twin daughters element, and I wasn’t even sure if my thoughts about what Miranda said were right; but it was a start. Even better, it gave me something less heavy to focus on, at least for a little while.
When I got there, one of the girls was sound asleep in a bassinet in the living room. Shelby was tucked up on her couch, holding the other. “Who is who again? And how are you telling them apart?” I asked, taking a seat next to Shelby.
“This little peanut is Rebecca, and Jessica is snoozing away. And telling them apart is easy for me. I just know who is who.” She grinned. “But Grant is worried we’re going to mix them up, so we painted Rebecca’s toenail wi
th a little bit of pink polish, and Jessica’s with red. And right now, Grant’s ironing little patches with their names into their clothes.”
“Good ideas! Gosh, she is so beautiful. How are you doing? Getting enough sleep?”
“Right now, but that’s only because Grant is off for another week. When he goes back to work, it’s going to be a little more difficult. We’ll manage though.”
I gazed at Rebecca, stroking the bottom of one bare foot with my finger. “She is just so…perfect. They’re completely identical?”
“From what we can see right now, they are. Crazy, huh?”
“Yeah, but really cool.”
“Do you want to hold her?”
“Oh. Um.” Did I? “I’m a little nervous. What if I squeeze her too tight or something?”
Shelby laughed. “You’ll be fine. Here.” Gently, she passed the baby to me, and as soon as she was in my arms, everything inside of me turned into a big, mushy pile of goo.
“This is incredible! Everything is so tiny.” I laid her down on my legs, so I could see her face. She scrunched her nose up and then turned her head to the side, moving her mouth. “She might be hungry.”
“She’s always hungry. But she just ate, so she’s fine.”
We talked a little about the benefits of nursing, and other things related to the care of newborn babies. I soaked it all in, knowing I’d be going through the same process myself not so far in the future. A moment of absolute calmness swept over me, and I smiled—both to myself and to the little one in my lap.
“You look natural holding her,” said Shelby, as if reading my thoughts. “Less than four more months to go for you. It’ll be awesome, seeing our kids grow up together.”
“Yeah, it will.” And that made me remember my drawing. “While I’m holding her, could you do me a favor? In my bag is a present for you, and I brought a picture I wanted your opinion on.”
Shelby retrieved the wrapped gift and the drawing I’d folded into a square. She opened the present first, and exclaimed over the dresses I’d bought her girls. “I love these! Thank you for not buying two identical outfits too. I really don’t want to do the matching clothes thing, but everyone seems to think I do.”
A Stroke Of Magic Page 24
