He blinked. “That’s it? You’re not going to weigh a dozen other colors? There must be a bunch of other paint chips similar to this.”
“Why would I? This one’s perfect.” She shooed him along to find a sales clerk.
Ten minutes later she joined them with paint chips for the bedrooms and both bathrooms, plus the trim. Even the clerk looked impressed.
“Now here’s a woman who knows her own mind,” he said to Seth. “You’re a lucky man. I’ve seen some guys trail around after their wives for hours, finally pick out a paint and then turn right around and return it the next day.”
“That could still happen,” Seth said direly, envisioning a trip back to the same store tomorrow.
The clerk shook his head. “Not this time. If I see you in here again, it will be for something besides paint.”
Seth might have made him a bet, but Abby was regarding them both with an expression that suggested she wasn’t entirely happy about Seth’s doubts.
After they’d loaded up the car, he turned to her. “That went a lot more quickly than I’d imagined it would.”
She gave him a wry look. “So I gathered.”
“How about lunch? We have time before the ferry heads back.”
“Lunch sounds good,” she said at once. “There’s a restaurant I’ve heard a lot about. I wrote down the address in case we had time. Would that be okay with you?”
“Sure,” Seth said, trying to imagine what sort of expensive gourmet restaurant would entice her. He reminded himself it didn’t matter. That’s what credit cards were for, though his rarely came out of his wallet. He’d always been a pay-as-you-go guy, the exact opposite of his sister Laura.
He set the GPS in the car, following directions that took them to a small, nondescript strip mall. He turned to Abby. “You sure this is the right place?”
She nodded and gestured toward a tiny restaurant at the far end, her eyes alight. “There it is.”
He blinked at the sign on the door. It looked to him like a small Mexican grocery store. Since she seemed confident, he shrugged and pulled into a parking space out front. At least it wasn’t going to break the bank, that was for sure.
Inside, the heady aroma of spices made his mouth start to water. Although the front of the place was filled with Mexican specialty items, he spotted a few tables in back and a doorway that led onto a small patio with bright fuchsia bougainvillea covering the high privacy fence. Mexican pottery filled with more colorful plants lined the walkways that wound between the tables. It was tiny but utterly charming.
As soon as they were seated, a waiter hurried over with menus. Abby waved them off. “What do you recommend?” she asked. “What are your specialties?”
His eyes lit up. “You trust me to select,” he suggested. “You will be pleased.”
“Perfect,” she told him, then turned to Seth. “Does that work for you?”
Given the smells emanating from the kitchen as they’d passed through, he was more than willing to go along with it. “Absolutely,” he said, earning a delighted smile from their server.
He brought them ice-cold Mexican beers while they waited, then served two hot plates filled with enchiladas, beans, rice and guacamole.
Seth had eaten his share of Mexican food and this looked no different than most. Then he took his first forkful of the succulent stuffed enchiladas and nearly groaned with pleasure.
There was heat and smokiness in the spices and the tenderest beef he’d ever tasted.
“How on earth did you know about this place?” he asked Abby, whose eyes were actually closed as she savored her own first bite.
“I read about it in a guidebook to out-of-the-way restaurants worth finding. Several friends who were visiting the area tried it and raved. They were absolutely right. This food is incredible.” She grinned at Seth. “We have to come back. I want to try everything.”
The server overheard them and beamed proudly. “I’m so glad you’re enjoying it,” he said. “My family began this business ten years ago.”
“You own it?” Abby asked. “Why haven’t you considered expanding?”
“We like this location,” he said simply. “We’re able to keep our overhead low, so it helps to keep our prices affordable. There’s an immigrant population nearby that relies on us for spices and other items hard to find elsewhere. We might draw fewer tourists, but they leave happy. And we do well enough. Word of mouth keeps us busy.”
“I’m not sure I’m going to tell another soul,” Abby said. “I want to be able to get a table whenever I come.”
He laughed at that. “For you, beautiful señorita, I will always find room.”
After they’d shared a creamy flan for dessert and had their coffee, Abby spoke with the owner again. She thanked him profusely for the meal and his hospitality.
“We’ll be back. I promise you that.”
“Gracias. I will look forward to it,” he told her.
In the car, Seth glanced over at her contented expression. “Is that all it takes to make you happy? A great meal?”
She turned to him. “It’s not the only thing, but it certainly is an excellent start. Thank you for bringing me here.”
“It was my pleasure. It’s one of the best meals I’ve had in a long time.” He winked at her. “The company was pretty good, too.”
And better than either of those things, in some ways, was the reassurance that Abby didn’t require candlelight, champagne and filets mignons to be happy. Perhaps they were more alike than Seth had realized. Another crack appeared in his defenses.
* * *
Back on Seaview Key, Abby invited Seth to stay for iced tea. When they were settled on the porch, a deep sense of contentment stole over her. There was only one thing nagging at her about an otherwise perfect day.
“Seth?”
“Yes?” he murmured, his eyes half-closed as he rocked slowly beside her.
“Why did you seem so surprised by the restaurant I chose? I know it was kind of out-of-the-way, but it was more than that, wasn’t it?”
He nodded. “I was expecting you to choose something fancy,” he admitted.
“And expensive?” she asked, beginning to see the problem.
“Okay, yes,” he admitted. “You owned an expensive restaurant. You’re obviously used to gourmet food.”
“I’m used to good food,” she corrected. “And I don’t think I’ve had anything much better than what we had today. Fancy has its place, but so does excellent regional or ethnic cooking.” She studied him for a long time, then asked, “We’ve touched on this before, but I have to ask again. Should I be worried that there seems to be some reverse snobbery going on here?”
To her regret, he sighed, all but confirming her impression.
“I’m working on it,” he admitted. “I haven’t run across many women like you.”
“Good thing or bad?” she asked.
“I’m actually beginning to see it in a much more positive light,” he admitted.
“I’m not going to apologize for having money or for the life I’ve led,” she told him. “I worked hard. I earned whatever success has come my way.”
“I wouldn’t want you to apologize for that. I just have to figure out how a guy like me fits in.”
She smiled at that. “There’s always room for a good guy in my world,” she told him. “In any world. I think you bring a lot to the table.”
“Oh?” he said, as if he was unsure of what those attributes might be.
She studied him intently. “You really don’t know, do you? I don’t think I’ve ever known a man as decent, kind and generous as you or as sexy and funny, who didn’t know his own value. I’ve known a lot of men with less to offer who have hugely overblown egos.” She allowed herself a thorough once-over, then gr
inned. “I have to admit you’re a lot more attractive.”
She expected the usual cocky, masculine grin in response, but instead he simply seemed to relax. He actually looked as if he’d needed the reassurance.
Amazing, she thought. All that appeal and he was unaware of it. That’s when she realized just how much trouble she was in, because in that moment, it was no longer about an attraction that wouldn’t quit. In that instant, she fell just a little bit in love.
12
Abby looked up to find Hannah standing in the doorway, trying hard to smother a laugh apparently.
“What?” Abby inquired testily.
“I’m amazed any paint is actually on the walls,” Hannah said. “Looks to me as if most of it is on you. You’d make a good partner for the Incredible Hulk now. Isn’t he the giant green guy or is that the Green Hornet? Or maybe I’m thinking of the Jolly Green Giant.”
“Ha-ha,” Abby said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve painted anything. It’s taken a while to get the hang of it.”
“Maybe you should have asked Seth for his help,” Hannah suggested slyly.
“If you’re trying to figure out what’s going on with us, just ask,” Abby grumbled. “He was more than willing to help, but I wanted to do this on my own.”
“Another part of the reinvention of Abby Miller?” Hannah asked.
“Something like that.” She gave Hannah a stern look. “If you promise to stop making fun of me, I’ll invite you in for iced tea. I even have fresh blueberry scones. I’ve been feeling domestic.”
Hannah immediately held up her hands in a gesture of surrender and plastered a serious expression on her face. “Not even a chuckle,” she promised.
“Go on in the kitchen,” Abby suggested. “Let me at least get some of the paint off my hands and face and I’ll be right there.”
“I’ll pour the tea,” Hannah said.
By the time Abby joined her, Hannah had also found the scones and warmed them in the oven. Her mouth was full, her eyes twinkling.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I couldn’t wait.”
Abby laughed. “So, what brings you by this morning. Isn’t this your usual writing time?”
“I sent off the latest manuscript yesterday, so I’m suffering from postpartum letdown today. I decided to see what you were up to and to issue an invitation.”
Abby regarded her with surprise. “I haven’t even reciprocated for the last dinner,” she said.
“Not a problem,” Hannah said. “This is for Thanksgiving. As hard as it is for me to believe since it’s still hot as Hades around here, Thanksgiving is only two weeks away. I’m trying to get all the details under control before I head to New York later this week.”
Abby thought she detected fear behind the casually spoken words. “Your tests?”
Hannah nodded.
“How long will you be gone?”
“Just two nights, but with the weekend in there, it will be a few days after that before I know all the results.”
“How are you doing with that? The waiting, I mean. I already know you’re worried about the tests.”
Hannah’s expression turned wry. “You’d think I’d be used to it, but I’m not.”
“Luke’s going along?”
Hannah nodded. “At first I told him he didn’t have to, but it was pointed out to me that I wasn’t protecting him or being brave. I was just shutting him out.”
“Sounds like sensible advice,” Abby said.
“I can always count on my friend Sue for that,” she said, then hesitated before adding, “The way I used to count on you.”
It was hard to tell if her tone reflected more nostalgia or bitterness, but Abby chose not to let the way the words hurt reflect in her response. “You can count on me again, Hannah,” Abby said, though even as she uttered the reassurance, she knew that gaining Hannah’s trust was going to be a process. Her words alone would never be quite enough.
“One of these days I hope you’ll test that,” she added.
“Baby steps,” Hannah responded. “I hope you understand. It’s not as if you did anything wrong back then. But watching you and Luke, it hurt. Nobody’s fault, of course, but that didn’t lessen the way it felt at eighteen.”
“Of course I understand,” Abby said, aware of how painful it must have been and the fear—albeit an unwarranted fear—that it could be repeated. “And thank you for wanting to include me on Thanksgiving.”
Hannah smiled. “It was my idea, but I also had a hunch that Seth would spend the meal in a funk if you weren’t at the table.”
Abby grinned. “I’d like to think so, too.”
“I can’t wait to see for myself how things have changed since the two of you came for dinner,” Hannah admitted. “And Kelsey is anxious to meet you. I should also warn you that my father will be there with his wife, as well as my half-brother and his family.”
Abby regarded her with shock. “What? When did you find your father? I thought he hadn’t been in touch for years.”
Her stunned reaction only deepened as Hannah described the letters she’d found hidden away in her mother’s dresser, Luke’s efforts to locate Clayton Dixon, only to find him less than an hour away on the mainland, and the awkward reunion that had paved the way for establishing a new relationship.
“Kelsey is absolutely thrilled to have more extended family here and I’m trying to make peace with the past,” Hannah told her. “Things weren’t the way I thought. He never abandoned me, not the way I believed he had. He tried to keep in touch.”
“I can’t believe your mother and grandmother hid the truth from you,” Abby said.
“It was complicated,” Hannah conceded. “A lot more complicated than I could have understood as a child.”
“What about after you grew up?”
Hannah shrugged. “They thought they were doing what was best. Grandma Jenny concedes now that it was a mistake, but their intentions were good. I’ve managed to accept that. There’s not much point in holding a grudge now.”
“But he has this whole other family?”
“My half-brother is a great guy,” Hannah said. “I’ve enjoyed getting to know him and his family. My stepmother, who set events in motion back then, is a piece of work, but I’ve even come to accept that she wasn’t reacting rationally back then.”
“That’s all very evolved of you. I’d want to rip her hair out.”
“It was my dad who had the affair and got her pregnant,” Hannah said. “That gave her the ammunition she used to try to blackmail him into marrying her.”
The story got more outrageous by the minute. “Hold on,” Abby said. “She actually blackmailed him?”
Hannah nodded. “She threatened to go after Seaview Inn. Of course, she didn’t know that it was in my grandmother’s name. She’d never have gotten her hands on it. I guess my dad was torn. He thought the only way to keep her from causing trouble was to give in and keep her away from us. Or maybe he actually loved her and that was just the excuse he needed to make the break from my mom and me.”
Abby sat back in amazement. “Wow!”
Hannah chuckled at her reaction. “Yeah, that was pretty much my response when I finally had all the pieces of the puzzle.”
“And this wife of his is coming for Thanksgiving dinner, too?”
“Yes.” Hannah grinned. “Have I scared you off?”
“Not a chance. This may be the most fascinating Thanksgiving dinner I’ve been to in years. I’ve spent most of the holidays in recent years at the restaurant on the fringes of a few bizarre family celebrations, but this will be the first time I’ve been in the middle of one.”
Hannah gave her a long look. “You do see that this may be your first real test of whether you’re serious about being friends
again,” she said. “If you can survive this, I’ll have no choice but to give you a chance.”
“I’m definitely up for the challenge,” Abby told her.
She set her glass of tea on the table and leaned forward, taking Hannah’s hand in hers and giving it a squeeze. “And if there’s anything you need before, during or after this trip to New York, just ask, okay? I know you have the support of your friend in New York, but I’m right here, even if all you need to do is come over here to scream your head off where Luke and the rest of the family won’t hear you.”
Tears welled in Hannah’s eyes at the offer. “Don’t be surprised if I take you up on that.” She wiped her eyes, then stood. “I’d better run. I have lots to do before we leave.”
“What can I bring for dinner on Thanksgiving?” Abby asked.
“Just yourself. Between me, Grandma Jenny and Kelsey, the food’s under control.”
“I could bake a pecan pie or two, the kind my mama used to make.”
Hannah’s eyes lit up. “I wouldn’t say no to that. I’ll see you then.”
“Or sooner, if you need me,” Abby reminded her.
She watched Hannah walk away and sighed. She regretted so much that there wasn’t more she could do to make the next few days easier for her old friend. Looking skyward, she murmured, “God, please let her be okay.”
Maybe prayers were the best thing she had to offer.
* * *
Seth showed up at Abby’s prepared to help with the painting, only to walk into a living room that smelled of fresh paint. The floors had been polished and the furniture was back in place. Abby stood back while he surveyed the room, a self-satisfied expression on her face.
“More evidence of what an overachiever you are,” he commented. “It looks good.”
He stepped closer and spotted a few specks of paint she’d missed on her forehead. He rubbed at them with his finger. “Did you leave that there so I’d know you did the work yourself?”
Abby laughed. “Hardly. There was a lot of paint on me. I was bound to leave some behind, though I tried really hard to scrub it all off.”
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