Suzanne's Diary for Nicholas (18 page)

She had just transferred her tea from the blue Le Croissant paper cup to the antique china one she kept on her desk. Her stomach
didn’t feel too bad that morning. Or maybe she was just getting used to it.

“Katie? Come over here right now. Katie! Now.”

She was slightly annoyed. “What,
what?
I’m coming. Hold your horses.”

Her assistant, Mary Jordan, was poised behind a floor-to-ceiling window that looked down on East Fifty-third Street. She motioned
for Katie to come to the window. “Come
here!
”

Curious, she walked to the window and looked down on the street. She spilled hot tea on herself, nearly dropping her antique
cup, until Mary reached out and deftly snatched it from her.

Katie then walked past Mary, down the short hallway of the publishing-house offices, to the single elevator. Her knees were
weak, her head spinning. She was self-consciously brushing strands of hair away from her face. She didn’t know what to do
with her hands.

She passed the publisher and owner, who was getting out of the elevator. “Katie, I need to talk—” He started to say something,
but she cut him off with a raised hand and a shake of the head. “I’ll be right back, Larry,” she said, the rushed into the
elevator, which was just starting back down. The publishing-house offices were on the top floor.

Time to compose yourself,
she thought.

No, not enough time. Not even close.

The elevator descended to the first floor without making any stops.

Katie stood in the lobby and forced herself to be very still inside. Her thoughts were amazingly concise, actually. Suddenly,
everything seemed so clear and simple to her.

She thought about Suzanne, about Nicholas, and about Matt.

She thought about the lesson of the five balls.

Then Katie walked outside the building and onto the streets of New York. She took a deep breath as the warmth of the sunshine
struck her face.

Dear God, make me strong enough for whatever is going to happen now.

She saw Matthew on Fifty-third Street.

Twelve

H
E WAS
kneeling on the sidewalk, less than a dozen feet away from where Katie stood, right in front of her office building. His
head was bowed slightly. He was courteous and considerate enough to have placed himself out of the main pedestrian flow. She
couldn’t take her eyes off him.

Of course,
everyone
looked at him as they passed. How could they resist? Rubbernecking was an art in New York City.

He looked good: tan, trim, his hair a little longer than usual; jeans, a clean but frayed chambray shirt, dusty work boots.
He looked like the Matt she knew, the Matt she had loved, and realized now that she still did.

Kneeling in front of her building. Right there in front of her.

Just as Suzanne had knelt that one night on their porch—to ask forgiveness, even though there was nothing to forgive.

Katie believed she knew what she had to do. She followed her instincts on this, followed her heart.

She took a breath, then she got down on one knee beside Matt, facing him, very close to him, as close as she could get. Her
heart was thundering.
Thump-thump, thump-thump.

She had wanted to see Matt one more time, and here he was. Now what?

Pedestrians were starting to clog up the sidewalk. A few of them made unkind remarks, complaining about the loss of a few
precious seconds on their journeys to work, or wherever it was that they rushed off to every morning.

Matt reached out his hand. Katie hesitated, but then she let him take her long, thin hands in his.

She had missed his touch. Oh God, she had missed this.

She had missed a lot about him, but especially the way she felt at peace when he was with her.

Strangely, she was starting to feel calm now. What did that mean? What was supposed to happen next?

Why was he here? To apologize or explain in person? What?

Finally, Matt raised his head and looked at her. She had missed those soft brown eyes, even more than she thought. She’d missed
his strong cheekbones, the furrowed brow, his perfect lips.

Matt spoke, and, God, she had missed the sound of his voice. “I love looking into your eyes, Katie, the honesty I see there.
I love your country drawl. You’re so unique, and I treasure that. I love being with you. I never tire of it. Not for one minute
since I’ve known you. You are a great editor. You’re a great carpenter, too. You
are
tall, but you
are
ravishing.”

Katie found that she was smiling. She couldn’t help it. Here they were, the two of them, on their knees in midtown. Nobody
could possibly understand what they were doing and why. Maybe not even they themselves understood.

“Hello, stranger,” she said. “I went looking for you, Matt. I traveled to the Vineyard. I finally got up there.”

Matt smiled now. “So I heard. From Melanie and the kids. They thought you were ravishing, too.”

“What else?” Katie asked. She needed to know more, to learn more, anything that he would tell her. God, she was so glad to
see him again. She couldn’t have imagined how glad she would be, how this would feel.

“What else? Well, the reason I’m here, on my knees, I want to give myself over to you, Katie. I’m sure of it. I’m finally
ready. I’m yours, if you’ll have me. I want to be with you. I want to have children with you. I love you. I’ll never leave
you again. I promise, Katie. I promise with all my heart.”

And then, they finally kissed.

Thirteen

T
HAT OCTOBER
on the gorgeous Outer Banks of North Carolina, Katie Wilkinson and Matt Harrison were married at the Kitty Hawk Chapel.

The Wilkinson and Harrison families hit it off famously right from the start. The two families immediately became one. Katie’s
friends from New York all came down, spent a few extra days at the beach, and got lobster pink, of course. Her North Carolina
friends preferred the cover of porches and shade trees. Both groups of friends reached agreement on the mint juleps.

Katie was thin, so she wasn’t showing too much. Only a few of the wedding guests knew that she was going to have a baby. When
she had told Matt, he hugged and kissed her and said he was the happiest, luckiest person in the world.

“Me, too,” said Katie. “Actually, me three.”

It was a simple but beautiful wedding and reception, held under cloudless blue skies with temperatures hovering in the low
seventies. Katie looked like an angel, white, with wings. Tall. Ravishing. The wedding was completely unpretentious from beginning
to end. The tables were decorated with family photographs. The bridesmaids carried pale pink hydrangeas.

While they were exchanging vows, Katie couldn’t help thinking to herself,
Family, health, friends, integrity—the precious glass balls.

She understood it now.

And that was how she would live the rest of her life, with Matt and their beautiful baby.

Isn’t it lucky.