Table for five - By Susan Wiggs Page 0,121

how long that’s going to be. We’re going to do our best to make it last forever.”

“Nothing lasts forever,” she whispered, her face suddenly very close to his.

“That doesn’t mean we won’t try for it,” he said, ending the pronouncement with a kiss.

She nearly melted but then pulled away. “You have to stop doing that.”

He laughed and slipped Babe’s new collar on her. “Oh, yeah, I’ll stop,” he said. “When hell freezes over.”

chapter 40

Lily had never needed a best friend more. A best friend was the person you called up when someone kissed you and made you forget the whole world. A best friend was the one you told when you were falling in love. A best friend talked you out of making a complete fool of yourself over a man who could only mean trouble.

Crystal was gone and Lily had no one else to discuss her heart with. Violet would only egg her on and tell her to go for it. Edna would find some deep spiritual reason for the unexpected chemistry that burned between Lily and Sean. Calling her mother was out of the question. Lily decided she was better served trying to fend off the feelings on her own.

One thing she discovered—her sleep pattern was shot. She found herself lying awake at night, unable to stop thinking about Sean Maguire. She tried everything—listening to the sound of the girls’ breathing, reading with a tiny flashlight clipped to the pages of her book, tallying up the miles they traveled. And once she did fall asleep, she woke up too early, ears tuned to the first birds of morning. And of course, even before the rest of her woke up completely, her mind was already hard at work, thinking of Sean Maguire.

The smell of coffee told her he was already up. Why did coffee have to smell so good? And why did he make it every day? To remind her that she was depriving herself?

She forced herself to lie still until she heard him leave, probably to take the dog on morning rounds. Then she lay awhile longer, hoping to fall back asleep. Finally she gave up and was driven from her bed by restless, impossible thoughts and the insidious smell of coffee. She slipped past Charlie and Ashley, who lay in a sweet tangle under the comforter. She went to the bathroom, grimacing at the person in the mirror—heather-gray jersey pajamas, puffy face, rumpled hair.

“You even look boring when you sleep,” she muttered, then sawed away with the toothbrush.

She came out and glared at the coffeemaker, its red on button glowing. She switched it off and fixed a cup of ginseng tea, wishing it was coffee. An organic sesame bar sufficed as breakfast, which she ate while glaring resentfully at the box of Froot Loops on the table. After a brief but red-hot fantasy involving coffee, Froot Loops and Sean himself, she finished her tea and told herself to get a grip.

Then she put on shorts, a Wonder Bread T-shirt and running shoes, and looped her hair in a ponytail. Each new place they visited, she explored by going for a jog. She was no athlete, but she stayed in shape with a faithful adherence to her regime. During the cross-country drive, she had jogged past the rats, cactus and mesquite of a Nevada desert. She’d run among stunning snow-capped peaks of Utah and Colorado, past endless prairie grasslands of the Midwest, along tree-lined riverbanks and hilly country roads. She thought she’d regret having given up an adventure in Italy, but her inner child was having the time of her life.

When she returned to the RV, she often found Sean and the kids eating Krispy Kremes and engaging in inappropriate behavior like armpit-farting or burp-singing. Who needed Italy when you had that?

This morning, when she got out of the RV and softly closed the door, she knew she was in a special place. A hush hovered in the air, as light and translucent as the morning mist, insulating the calls of mockingbirds and whippoorwills.

We’re here, she thought. This is our destination. Pinehurst, North Carolina. They had arrived the night before and this was her first time to see it in the daylight. Home of world famous golf courses and a number of sectional and national tournaments, including the Colonial Classic. The five of them had driven across the country just so Sean could play.

She’d read about the area in her guidebooks, of course. It was a quiet community