Page 90 of First Love, Second Draft

She laughed again. “I didn’t think it sounded right when I said it.”

“Let’s just hope that’s the last time you ever say it.” Noah grinned and lowered his glass, praying what he said next flowed as easily as the banter and water. “Gracie, don’t you think it’s time we talk about that game?”

Judging by the way Gracie squirmed in her seat, she knew exactly which game. “You mean for the memoir?”

“I mean for us.”

“I don’t know. Feels like the wounds from our marriage are finally scabbing over. Do we really want to make those wounds start bleeding all over again?”

“Pretty sure those wounds are infected, and the only way for them to ever heal is to expose them so they can get treated properly. Which is why I think it’s time for you to tell me your version of what happened.”

Gracie leaned back as the server set her plate filled with shrimp over pasta on the table, then handed Noah his plate full of spaghetti. After the server left, Gracie met Noah’s gaze. “All right. We can talk about the game, but only if we can agree on one thing.”

“I’m listening.”

“Whatever happens, whatever wounds we reopen, whatever purulent drainage splashes all over the table—”

“Maybe it’s time to switch to a different analogy while we eat our meal.”

“I want you to promise me one thing.” Her hazel eyes lifted from the pasta and hit him with a serious gaze. “We’re not leaving this restaurant until we order a slice of Death by Chocolate. I don’t care how tight my dress is by the end of the night.”

His shoulders relaxed as he reached for his fork. “Now that idea is definitely up my a.”

53

Stuffed from supper, Gracie fiddled with her dessert fork, ready to finally dive into talking about the night of that game. “Did I ever tell you about the cat I had back when I was a kid?”

Noah squinted an eye in thought—or more likely confusion about what her version of the game had to do with a childhood cat. “Pepper?”

“That was the neighbor’s dog who bit me. No, I’m talking about Morris. As a kitten he reminded me of that book about Morris the moose, so that’s what I named him.”

Gracie paused while the waitress delivered their chocolate dessert before continuing her story. “I picked Morris out of a litter from the neighbor’s house. Same neighbor whose dog bit me. I think he felt bad, so he let me take a kitten for free. Although I’m not really sure how much of a deal that was, considering he was begging people to take one.”

Gracie shrugged and dug her fork into the mound of chocolate. “Point is I loved Morris. I put cute little bows on him. Dragged him around town in my bicycle basket. Carried him with me everywhere I went. You get the idea.”

“You loved that cat.”

“Ilovedthat cat.”

“What happened to him?”

“MaryAnn Merkle happened to him.” Gracie exchanged the fork in her hand for the mug of coffee, the memory of that woman as bitter as the brew. “In all the time I grew up, my dad never dated anybody. Mona didn’t mind. She remembered my mom and never wanted anybody to replace that role. Plus, Mona had taken the responsibility of my surrogate mother and queen boss and I’m pretty sure she never wanted anybody replacing that role either.”

“Why does that not surprise me?”

“But no matter what Mona said, I wanted a mom. I used to ask for one at Christmas every year, even long after I stopped believing in Santa Claus. And when MaryAnn Merkle moved to town and became my fifth-grade teacher, I thought it was finally going to happen. She was so pretty and nice. She wore these fashionable outfits, always smelled like fancy perfume, and she wasn’t married. It seemed a no-brainer to me. I started doing bad on my schoolwork just so she and my dad would have reasons to talk to one another.”

“Quite the little matchmaker.”

“You could’ve called me Emma. You know, Jane Austen? Never mind. The point is even Mona couldn’t find fault with the lovely Miss Merkle. I figured I’d have a mother in no time. Until the fateful night she stopped over to return my coat, which I, of course, had left behind in hopes of her stopping by to return it.”

Noah stabbed a bite from the cake, then nudged the plate toward her, so she could take another bite when she was ready.

“At first everything went according to plan. She handed my dad the coat. He thanked her. They started talking. Joking. Laughing. He invited her in. Then that was the moment when everything went downhill. Fast.”

“Let me guess. Miss Merkle was allergic to cats.”

“Worse. Miss Merkle was terrified of cats.”

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