The Red Hat Society's Domestic Goddess (25 page)

“Well, that sounds healthy,” she said.

“And unexciting. You’re exciting. I love the hat. I love the whole package.”

Charles came up behind the producer, his attention riveted
on them. Millie didn’t care if James Stehouwer loved the whole package; she wanted to know if Charles did.

But the other man wasn’t done talking yet. “I’d like you to replace Chef Sheldon,” he told her. “The domestic goddess could
give a quick lesson every noon broadcast.”

“Every day?” Millie asked, then shook her head, nearly dislodging her hat. “I don’t know… that sounds like a full-time job.”

“Is it that you haven’t worked before?”

“Oh, I’ve worked.” Far harder than if she’d held a nine-to-five job. “But my intention is to retire.”

“You’re not going to continue your class?”

“This was a one-shot deal, for these students.”

“So when the class is over, you’ll have time to do a segment for the news,” the producer said, as if arranging Millie’s life
were part of his producing duties.

She shook her head. “My plan is to travel, take a cruise, take it easy. I’m not looking for a job, Mr. Stehouwer, but I’m
flattered by the offer.”

The man’s face fell, his jaw tautening with frustration. “I hope you change your mind. You’d be perfect for our station.”

Millie hoped to be perfect for someone else. But Charles wasn’t standing nearby anymore. He’d gone back to his workstation.
When Millie caught his attention, he didn’t wink. His blue eyes were flat with disappointment. She couldn’t believe he was
upset that she hadn’t taken the job; he was upset to learn about her plans.

Because she hadn’t told him, or because he didn’t want to travel with her?

M
illie walked through her garage carrying her red hat. Because her attention was focused on the glittering tiara, she almost
missed that Steven’s trunk gaped open. She flashed back over a month ago, to the first time she’d found his car in her garage
with the trunk open.

That had started everything: Her resolve to make him and Mitchell more independent. The class. Her falling for Charles. Or
had she started that before then? When she thought his wife had died.

It didn’t matter now, not after the way he’d looked at her… without the wink… like he didn’t even know her. And he hadn’t.
Because she hadn’t let him. She hadn’t shared her plans with him, and she should have.

“Hey, Mom,” Steven said, as he stepped into the garage with an armload of boxes. “Why so sad? I thought you’d be thrilled
when I moved out.”

“As long as you’re moving back home,” she qualified, scarcely daring to hope.

Audrey and Brigitte came out of the house behind him, carrying bags. “Yes, he is,” Audrey said, “moving back where he belongs.”

“I belong there,” Steven agreed, “now that I appreciate how hard my wife works.” He leaned around the boxes and pressed a
kiss against the side of her head. “And I’m determined to help her.”

“Me, too,” Brigitte said. “I can do a lot now, too. We’ll be a team.”

“Team Truman!” Steven shouted, as he dumped the boxes into his trunk. Then he wrapped an arm around each of his girls.

Millie blinked hard, clearing tears from her eyes.

“Mom, are you all right?” Steven asked, letting go of his girls to put his hands on her shoulders.

“I’m happy,” she said. “I hoped for this for you.”

“You did more than hope,” Brigitte said, “you made it happen, just like you promised.” Her granddaughter wrapped her arms
around Millie, squeezing tight. “Thank you so much!”

Audrey stepped close, too, pressing a kiss against Millie’s cheek. “Thanks, Mom.”

Millie had to blink hard again but still she couldn’t stop one tear from slipping free and rolling down her cheek. “Don’t
thank me. You all worked hard. And I’m sure if I hadn’t interfered, you would have gotten back together.”

“Maybe,” Audrey agreed. “But it wouldn’t have happened this quickly or this completely. We’re closer now than ever, more of
a partnership than just a marriage.” She blinked back some tears of her own, obviously emotional over the reconciliation.
Then she smiled. “I can’t wait for Steven’s cooking.”

“Or mine,” Brigitte reminded her mom. “I can cook, too. But there’s still a lot I want to learn. Grandma, you’re going to
keep the class going?”

Millie glanced toward Steven’s open trunk, nearly full now with his belongings. Her intention had been
to end the class when he went home. “I hadn’t planned on it…”

She’d planned so much other stuff. Not in any great detail, though. She didn’t have itineraries prepared or a cruise booked.
Like Audrey, she hadn’t expected her boys to learn so much so quickly. She hadn’t thought she’d be able to retire this soon.
Now she wasn’t entirely certain that she really wanted to.

“You should think about it, Mom,” Steven advised. “It wouldn’t have to meet as often, but I feel like I could learn a lot
more, too.”

Millie nodded in agreement. “I’m sure you could.” But it wasn’t entirely his fault, as her old guilt resurfaced. “There’s
so much I should have taught you long ago.”

Then his family never would have hit that rough patch, but maybe that wasn’t an entirely bad thing. Because of that, they
could appreciate what they had now.

“I could have taught him, too,” Audrey said, “but I thought I could do it alone.”

“You shouldn’t have had to,” Steven told her, putting his arm around her shoulders again. He couldn’t stop touching her, his
dark eyes soft with love as he gazed down at his pretty blond wife.

She smiled up at him, her face glowing. “That’s in the past. Things are going to be so much better now.”

“Perfect,” Steven agreed.

Brigitte caught Millie’s gaze, then rolled her eyes. “Grandma, I think I’m going to be spending a lot of time at your house.
Or they might make me sick.”

Steven laughed. “Smart aleck.”

His daughter was a smart girl; she probably knew how empty Millie’s house would seem without Steven. When they all left, Millie
sat alone at the counter in her kitchen, listening to the silence.

No television blared. No phone rang. She’d once thought she’d wanted this silence. Now she wasn’t sure exactly what she wanted.

Chapter Nineteen

“Many husbands today pitch in to help with household chores—it’s called partnership.”

—
Dear Abby

K
im waited until she heard the car pull into the garage next to hers, then she slipped out of her door. She was dressed for
a run in a white tank top and silky blue running shorts. Sometimes she did run at night, if she couldn’t sleep. She hadn’t
been sleeping a lot lately because of her handsome neighbor—not because he’d been over but because he hadn’t. Ever since the
night he’d taken her and the cat to the vet, he hadn’t been back.

She extended her leg and bent over, stretching. Muscles protested, hurting most in the area where Mr. Lindstrom had got her
with the grilling fork. A little groan slipped unbidden through her lips.

“Are you okay?” George asked as he stepped out of his garage. Her heart fluttered at the sight of him in his navy blue uniform.

“Just getting old,” she said, her tone flippant, but it did matter to her. She was older than he was; maybe that was why he
hadn’t been around lately. She couldn’t give him everything he might want.

He laughed heartily at her remark. “Impossible. You’ll be forever young.”

She shook her head slowly, horrified. “God forbid. I wouldn’t want that.”

“I thought that’s what every woman wants,” he said. “Eternal youth.”

“I’d prefer to be a little older and a lot wiser.” And if she were, she had no business waiting for him to come home to ambush
him in his driveway.

“That makes a lot of sense,” he agreed with a heartfelt sigh.

“At least something does,” she said, as she straightened up.

“Something wrong?”

“You tell me.”

“What?” he asked, but she had a feeling his innocence was feigned… because something sparkled in his eyes, either amusement
or vindication.

She struggled with frustration; she hated playing games and hadn’t thought he’d be the type to enjoy them either, not after
his divorce. “You haven’t been around lately.”

“I’ve been around,” he insisted. “I live just a wall away.”

“You haven’t stopped by.” Hating how needy she sounded, she added, “to check on the cat.”

“How is the little mama doing?” he asked.

“Whiny and needy,” she said, like George made her feel. The frustration nagging at her now was with herself.

He chuckled. “I know you hate that,” he said, as if he knew how he made her feel.

Maybe he did. “Is that why you haven’t been around?” she asked.

He shrugged his shoulders, which looked especially broad in his uniform. Kim’s pulse quickened, as if she’d begun her run.
“Like I said, I live just a wall away. I figured you were wise enough to know where to find me if you wanted to,” he said.

“Playing hard to get?” she asked.

His mouth quirked into a lopsided grin. “Maybe bowing to the competition.”

“Competition?”

“Mr. Lindstrom. You seem more willing to let him touch you.”

“With a shopping cart and a grill fork?” she asked. “I don’t think so.”

“A grill fork?” George asked with a laugh. “The old man’s kinky, huh?”

“The old man doesn’t stand a chance,” she told him.

“Against Harry?”

She stepped close to him, sliding her fingers across the shiny badge on his chest. “Against you.”

“That’s right,” he said, sighing raggedly, as her fingers skimmed across his chest. “You don’t need Harry anymore. You have
me.”

“Do I?”

He nodded.

“Are you sure?” she asked, her doubts returning. “I can’t give you everything you might want.”

“What?” he asked, his forehead creasing in confusion. “What can’t you give me?”

“Well, let me put it this way,” she said, “my clock’s not ticking anymore. It’s broken.”

“I have my son. I don’t want any more children,” he insisted, his dark eyes wide with surprise at her confession. “I want
a companion, someone who challenges and infuriates and fascinates me.”

Kim swallowed hard, as her heart rose to her throat. He was looking at her so intently.

“That’s you,” he told her. “That’s how I feel. How do you feel?”

She stared up into his eyes, letting him see her vulnerability in a way she’d let no one else. “I don’t want to run,” she
said.

His eyes narrowed for a moment before understanding dawned and his smile widened. “You’re going to let me catch you?”

“Or chase you down,” she said as if accepting a challenge, “if you make me.”

“I’ll never make you do anything you don’t want to do,” he assured her, as he looped his arms around her waist. “That’s why
I stopped coming around.”

“You wanted me to come to you?” she guessed.

“I didn’t want to pressure you. I wanted you to make your own decision about us,” he admitted.

“I have. I’ve decided you talk too much,” she told him as she leaned close, pressing her lips against his. Her
pulse raced harder and faster than if she’d taken the night run for which she’d dressed.

He kissed her back, with heat and passion, sliding his mouth across hers. Then he pulled away. “I have to say one more thing,”
he insisted, almost panting for breath.

She sighed, as if seeking patience with his long-windedness. “Go ahead,” she said, long-suffering.

“I love you.”

Her chest shuddered as her heart shifted. But that declaration didn’t frighten her as it might have in the past. She trusted
George. “I love you, too.”

After another kiss, this one a long one, she reminded him, “This means you’re going to be a grandpa.”

“What?”

“To the litter of kittens.”

He chuckled. “I can’t wait for my son to meet you. He’ll love you as much as I do.”

Kim would make sure that he did, by showing him how much she loved his father.

“Oh,” George said, as if something momentous had just occurred to him.

“What?”

“We’re going to break his heart.”

She didn’t think he was still talking about his son, since she had yet to meet him. “Whose heart?”

“Mr. Lindstrom’s.”

Kim sighed. “You’re right. I feel so bad. Maybe we can’t do this.”

But George’s strong arms resisted her effort to pull away. Then he picked her up. “You’re not going any
where. Mr. Lindstrom’s going to have to find his own girl. You’re mine.”

Once that possessiveness would have bothered Kim, would have had her running. But when George said it, it warmed her heart
and excited her. And expressed how she felt about him. “And you’re mine.”

T
heresa drew open the blinds in the family room, bathing it in light. Just a little over a month ago, Wally would have protested,
grumping and groaning from his battered leather recliner in the corner of the room. But his chair sat empty today. He’d left
early in the morning for a breakfast meeting with an old client.

Wally wasn’t old or defeated anymore. He was the man she’d fallen in love with so many years ago. While happiness lifted her
heart, it was still a bit heavy… with loneliness. She was thrilled that he’d recovered his purpose in life, but she wished
he could have found it with her.