all about balance. She’d rest for the remainder of the afternoon. The unpacking could wait.
The afternoon wasn’t as restful as she’d hoped. She found it too hard to settle her thoughts. She kept jumping ahead to the evening, fretting over what she’d say, what she’d wear. Exceptional. Ellis thought she was exceptional. How did a woman live up to that?
She didn’t, of course. Mel knew who she was—a simple woman who had raised a family. That was all. She didn’t own a business, didn’t have a college degree. She’d never had a chance to travel much. In short, she was nothing special.
But later, when Ellis picked her up, he managed to make her feel special. He took in her skinny jeans and casual white V-neck top and said, “You sure know how to dress.”
Well, yes, there was something she did well. It had been a little embarrassing getting caught in ancient yoga pants and a T-shirt earlier.
“I must admit, I do like pretty clothes.”
“And I like seeing a well-dressed woman,” he said. “A win-win for both of us.”
Ellis West certainly was easy to please.
He didn’t seem to find fault with her conversation as they dined. She told him about her book club and how she hoped to start one in Moonlight Harbor, talked about looking forward to helping Jenna at the Driftwood, asked how on earth he’d gotten that giant razor clam on top of the Seafood Shack.
“Let me tell you, it wasn’t easy. I had to hire someone to come with a crane. Big excitement in town. For a day,” he finished with a chuckle.
They moved on from there to the topic of travel. “Other than my honeymoon in Victoria, I’ve never been out of the country,” Mel said. “Someday I would love to see Paris.”
“It’s a great city. Lots of history, good food. I could picture you walking along the Champs-élysées,” Ellis said.
“So you’ve been there, obviously.”
“I took my wife for our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary,” he said. “I wanted to take her there for our honeymoon but we were too broke.”
“We were broke, too,” Mel said. “I guess that’s how most of us start out.”
“It is,” he agreed. “We didn’t care. We were happy together. We ate a lot of franks and beans and mac and cheese though. It was nice when we could finally afford meat loaf. And Paris was worth waiting for. By our twenty-fifth we could actually pay for a meal in one of those fancy French restaurants.”
“That’s the beauty of waiting,” Mel said. “If you wait long enough you eventually get where you want to be.”
She was where she wanted to be, back full circle with both her daughters nearby. And maybe, someday, she’d get to Paris.
They finished dinner and wound up on the beach, seated side by side on a log, looking out at the water. “I never get tired of this view,” Ellis said.
“I don’t think I ever will,” Mel said. After so many years alone it felt good to be with someone, sharing a lovely view. Sharing life. “I hadn’t realized how much I missed this,” she mused.
“What?”
“Just being with someone.”
He nodded. “I’m with people a lot, but it’s not the same when you’re single.”
“No, it’s not,” she agreed. “I’m glad you asked me to dinner.”
“I hope we can do it again.”
“I’d like that.”
Sharing thoughts, sharing memories, talking with someone who’d been down that same dark path of losing a mate—it was like a tonic for her soul and she was glad she’d accepted his invitation.
“Only next time let me cook for you,” she said.
“Home cooking. That’s another thing I’ve missed. Not that I can’t cook,” he hurried to add.
“Oh? What do you make? Do you have a specialty?”
“Yeah. Fried eggs.”
She chuckled.
“I eat out a lot,” he confessed.
“That sounds good to me,” she said.
“It gets old.”
So did eating at home alone.
They stayed at the beach until the sun left the party and temperatures dropped. Then he took her home.
She toyed with the idea of asking him in but rejected it. Who knew what that would imply? Maybe he’d expect her to haul him off to her bedroom. It seemed like that was the norm in every TV show and movie she watched. Couples barely together for five minutes would wind up back at her place or his, ripping each other’s clothes off. That wasn’t her norm.
Again, at the door, he pointed to his cheek. “How about an encore?”
It was so sweet. She was happy to oblige. “And how about that dinner