Page 101 of The Husband Hour
“Well, I appreciate the doughnuts—they were a huge hit and I wish I’d saved a few more for myself! But I’m afraid I don’t remember a serious talk.”
“It was what you said about business—about selling even the four walls. It gave me an idea. A financial lifeline, really.”
“Lauren did mention at the beginning of the summer that you were thinking of selling the house.” Her brow furrowed in concern.
“My husband wants to sell it. But I’m fighting every step of the way. And as I was saying, thanks to our conversation, I had a brainstorm and things are looking a little brighter. So enjoy the doughnuts.”
Nora lifted the foil covering the French crullers, the chocolate glazed, and the peanut butter and jelly doughnuts.
“The peanut butter and jelly ones were my grandson’s idea,” Beth said. “I would eat them today. Just a suggestion.”
“You don’t have to twist my arm!” Nora said. “You certainly are talented.”
Beth beamed. “Thank you. I realize how much I’ve missed it.”
Nora walked to the counter and set down the tray. When she turned back to Beth, it was like she was seeing her for the first time.
“Would you be interested in catering the dessert for a party I’m throwing? It will be here, in the restaurant, so you could use my kitchen for anything you need.”
Beth, mouth agape, took a moment before answering. “I don’t know what to say! That’s…I mean, I haven’t catered an actual party since before Lauren was born.”
“Nonsense! You basically catered dessert for my entire Fourth of July party. And of course, just tell me your fee.”
Beth’s smile faded at the mention of money, but before she could say anything Nora jumped in with “And don’t you start thinking this offer is just because you mentioned financial troubles. I was thinking about placing an ad for a pastry chef before you walked in today. And here you are! It’s meant to be.”
“What’s the party for?” Beth asked, stalling.
“I’m finally taking the leap and opening the restaurant for dinner service. I’m inviting about a hundred friends and loyal customers to celebrate and sample the new menu.”
Beth swelled with hopefulness. It was just the sort of thing she’d fantasized about—baking again, working again, feeling in control of her own destiny.
“And if I cater dessert for the party and things go well…”
“Then we talk about making it an ongoing business relationship. What do you say?”
“I say…I’d better get home and start working on a menu.”
It was her day off, but Lauren woke to the alarm she’d set for her run. And the previous night rushed back to her.
“Oh my God.” She sank back against the pillows, covering her eyes with her arm. She could feel it all over again, Matt leaning close to her, the confusion as her body moved toward him while her mind blinked frantically like an emergency light. But her body won out, and she kissed him back.
It was the realization that it felt good, that it felt right, that made her pull away. The guilt was instant and almost physical, like nausea.
She could tell by the look on Matt’s face that it had been an impulse, that the whole thing had taken him by surprise too. She’d wanted to just bolt, to walk home without another word to him. But she didn’t want to make too big a deal out of it or, worse, make him feel bad. If she were a normal woman, if they were in a normal circumstance, she would have been flattered. In an alternative universe, without the anchor of her past, Matt would be the type of guy she would be interested in. He was good-looking, smart, curious about people and the world around him.
She’d felt his outrage, though he hadn’t said a word, when she admitted that Rory had hit her. Maybe that was what freed Matt to see her as a woman, not just a widow. He probably lost a little respect for Rory. After it happened, she had as well. But then he died, and there was no room left for anger over an argument. No room left for resentment about the way their relationship had deteriorated. He was gone, and everything changed.
If he had lived, would they have gotten back together? Could their marriage have been saved? She hated to admit it, but the answer was probably no. All this time, she had been fighting that realization. But it was true.
Even though Lauren had set her alarm to go running, she felt oddly unmotivated. Instead of running clothes, she put on a bathing suit, then grabbed a towel from the hallway linen closet and walked to the kitchen. She’d barely reached the coffeemaker when she heard the splashing and laughter coming from the pool.
She looked out the sliding-glass doors and saw Stephanie standing in the shallow end with Ethan, Neil Hanes sitting close by on the pool ledge. Well, good for her, Lauren thought. At least she was paying attention to Ethan. And it probably didn’t hurt for him to have a man around. Lauren spent as much time with him as she could, but it was clear the kid was lonely.
She watched him get out of the pool, take a running jump in, and splash Stephanie, who squealed with delight. Ethan spotted Lauren watching through the door and waved. She waved back. He climbed out of the pool again and ran over; he had to use both hands and his body weight to pull open the door.
“Come swimming, Aunt Lauren!” he said, breathless.
“Um, maybe later. It looks like you’ve got enough company out there. Go on—have fun with your mom.”
