Текст книги "Katherine in Gold"

Автор книги: J. B. Hartnett

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

Holst

Cam’s brother, Drew, was talking to me about beams, weight bearing or something, but I was no longer paying attention. I was watching Katherine slip her gold-rimmed shades onto her head. Her blond hair was slicked back, pulled into a curling ponytail that hung just beyond her shoulders. Everything about her looked understated, natural, and fucking beautiful.

She held out a box of what I thought were cookies. “Hey guys,” she greeted. “Drew, how goes it?”

I took the plastic tub from her hands, opened it without looking, and took a bite: chocolate chip, still warm. I extended the box to Drew, who helped himself to a cookie, but wasn’t quiet at all.

“Damn, Kath. You look good enough to…see this cookie?” he asked her, grinning, cocky as anything.

“Yeah.” She chuckled. “I see the cookie, Drew, and if that sentence ends with ‘good enough to eat,’ you’re speaking my language,” she told him, both laughing together while I stood there, trying not to show my distaste for their exchange.

She slipped her purse down her arm to set on the counter, which was covered with a fine layer of sawdust. I went to grab it before it could hit, but Drew was there before me.

His thick arm darted out in front of mine to grab it. “I’m thinking you don’t want dirt and shit on that nice, leather purse.”

“Thanks for that, Drew.” She was quick with her reply and just as quickly asked, “So, what’s going on? Anything I can do? I see you’ve got the big shop vac. You know, I can vacuum like a motherfucker,” she offered with a tentative smile.

Drew was a mountain. His brother, Cam, wasn’t a small man by any means, but Drew was even bigger, broader, and though I was tall, this man, in his tan work pants, leather boots, and navy blue tee that said “Muir Bros” in bold yellow letters…if we both had our eyes on the same woman, his masculine build and confidence was going to win her.

And at that moment, unfortunately, I knew I’d been defeated before I even threw my hat in the ring.

“Sure you can handle it?” he asked her and teased, “Suction is pretty powerful.”

It was at that point, I casually walked into the back and looked at the manhole above the storeroom. Cam, being the professional builder he was, went through the entire space and showed me all of its potential. He assured me the roof could hold tables if we wanted to expand the shop up there. It would be an extra expense, but I didn’t care about that. I wanted to have somewhere for Katherine, myself, and our future employees to have some time out. A couple of chairs, a few plants, somewhere to keep a surfboard or two...a  place of peace and quiet from the hordes of customers I was anticipating. I came back into the main room to hear Drew make his next move.

“I’m staying at Cam and Tori’s next week. Buddy of mine is back from England and organized something called a ‘pub crawl.’ You should come. I mean, heard you got rid of that asshole, so I won’t have some moody art guy trying to kick my ass, right?”

I noticed her body change. She’d been relaxed before, but now she stood there stiff, and her voice went quiet when she said, “Sounds like you’re asking me out, Drew.”

He scratched the side of his head in an animated gesture. “It does. Doesn’t it?”

She recovered and laughed as she pushed past him to the shop vac. “I don’t really drink like I used to,” she explained, unwinding the cord, “so a ‘pub crawl’ doesn’t sound like a good time for me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to feel something long and hard in my hands.”

She had a beautiful, teasing smirk on her face as she held the long hose of the vacuum in one hand and the plug in the other. When she finally turned it on, Drew casually moved to me.

“Dude, you cool?” he asked.

I smiled and prepared myself, because I liked this man. Earlier, he’d mentioned how much he wanted to learn to paddle board, and that was something I knew how to do. I was also short on quality people in my life, friends, since I’d rid myself of everyone I knew.

“Of course,” I lied and changed the subject. “I was hoping you could make sure we’ll have some kind of deck upstairs. Just for the employees, somewhere to keep my boards and wetsuits actually.”

“Yeah. No probs. While Princess Sucksalot cleans up, I’ll check it out. But, I’m taking another cookie with me.”

He disappeared to the back, and when I knew he was out of earshot, I went to Katherine’s side, causing her to jump.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, still holding the nozzle.

I suppose the look on my face, if I had to guess, did not bode good things. But I put my mouth to her ear and said, “You didn’t have to bake. This place is yours, too. Do whatever you want. If it involves power tools and you don’t know how to use them, ask me or…ask Drew.” It killed me to suggest him, but I did, and what I said next also killed. “You should give Drew a shot, Katherine. He seems the opposite of your ex in every way.”

That was when she turned off the vacuum, and, still not facing me, she whispered, “I’m not gonna fuck the brother of my best friend’s husband.”

“I didn’t say anything about fucking, Katherine—”

“I know what you were saying,” she abruptly returned.

We stood there, almost cheek to cheek, feeling the heat of her body so close to mine, the feelings that had been developing were no longer a question on my part. They were certain. But that realization was moot when she said, “And I’ve been thinking…it’s better, like you said, we keep things between us professional. The cookies…I bake when I need to get out of my head. I didn’t make them just for you guys. I made some for Dee and Ruby, too.”

When Drew came back into the room, I guess he felt the sudden tension and waited for one of us to say something.

“Hey,” Katherine asked him. “How much more sanding and shit is happening? I think maybe I should just do a huge clean when you’re done sawing and making a mess.”

“A few weeks. Tops. We’ll need two cleans: one after we do all the internal stuff and your beer garden upstairs…”

“Beer garden?” she asked, eyes straight to me.

“More like a rooftop patio. Just for staff, not customers. Did I get that right?” he asked me.

“Yes,” I replied, my eyes on Katherine.

“Then we’ll need to clean for my buddy, Darren. He’ll install the floorboards, industrial, already sanded and stained. When that’s done, I’m sure the dust will really have settled. Then it’s all yours, Goldie.”

She closed her eyes to his compliment and began to wind the cord back into the vacuum. “I’ll be creating crap with Ruby, working on signage and what have you. I still need to go to the antique shop, too.”

She grabbed her purse from the clean part of the counter, slipped her sunglasses back onto her face…

And left.

“I was gone for a whole minute. What the hell happened?” Drew asked.

“I…” I began, but Drew felt the need to share his newfound wisdom about women with me.

He folded his arms, grinned, and nodded as he said, “The Notebook.”

“As in, the film, The Notebook?”

“Yeah. I used to date this chick. She begged me to watch it with her. Said her dream was to have a guy like Noah. Argued with my brother about it, who told me to take a page out of Noah’s book and watch the women swarm. But I get it now. Didn’t want to watch that movie, but not because it’s bad, and don’t ever tell my bro I admitted that,” he said with a pointed finger aimed at me. “It’s because you watch that movie with the woman you want to be Noah for. Whether it’s watching a movie you can’t stand, whatever it is, you do it because you want to for her.”

I gave Drew a relaxed half-smile. “And is she that girl?” I nodded toward the door Katherine had just exited.

“Unfortunately for me, I’m thinking, no. Doesn’t mean I won’t try.” He grinned.

She was right though. It was all for the best. Keep things professional. Strictly business.

Too bad I wasn’t going to do that.

Katherine

That could’ve gone better.

Maybe it was too soon to see Holst after seeing…all of Holst. Whatever, I was probably in the way at this point, so I’d wait until I was given the high sign, then get to work. In the meantime, I marched up the stairs behind Coastal Ink and right into Paper Petal.

Ruby was, quite simply, a younger and cuter Martha Stewart, though they looked nothing alike; Ruby was petite and blue-eyed with dark brown hair, almost black. She could bake and craft like nobody’s business. Tori hired her to help hand-address invitations and make favors to match the wedding invitations, kind of a full-service invite package. Each display had the invite, envelope, RSVP card, place card, and a beautiful favor to match. The shop was basically shabby chic style, completely finished by Cam, who guessed what Tori would love and guessed right. Not only that, he bought a chair from the shop where she used to work. It was so freakin’ bright, I joked it was the envy of flamingos everywhere.

Staring at that chair, I sat down at the desk, across from Ruby, who was busy making what looked to be a new paper garland for the shop. In my peripheral, I saw she’d raised her head, and that’s when she said, “You know, it’s crazy how those two got together.” She meant Tori and Cam.

“Yeah, it sure is,” I agreed.

“He basically stalked her. I was scared for her at first because, you know, my whole psycho ex-boyfriend thing.”

I looked at her, and, when her eyes met mine, I said, “Listen, let’s all get together. You, me, Dee. We should plan something for when Tor gets back. I’m not sure what the appropriate welcome home gift is when you’ve been honeymoon-camping for four weeks.” I chuckled.

Ruby had a great dry humor that zinged ya when you were least expecting it. “A shower?”

“Yeah,” I said. “What are you making? It looks killer.”

She held up the shape of a bride about three inches high, pearlescent paper, with fine details cut out with one of her tiny tools.

“Wow, Ruby. That is awesome.”

“Thanks. I’ve done all the orders for invitations. I have a party package for a baby shower, but I don’t need to start that until next week. And I took two orders today for another baby shower and a Christmas party. But those are months away.”

“So, you’re making decorations for the shop?” I asked. She made these beautiful paper garlands that hung across the windows. So pretty, so girly, and deep down, I loved that bright pink chair and those garlands. I was also a crafter, so coming here, in the safety of Paper Petal, I was allowed to express my inner Martha Stewart without committing to the four tackle boxes of various tools that Ruby used on a daily basis.

Ruby’s phone chimed. “Dee,” she informed me. “She says we need to come over ASAP. I’ll put the sign on the door. If anyone comes by, I’ll take the phone with me.”

“Right.” She began to pack up, so I said, “Listen, before we go, I have to tell you a couple things. The most important, Goya-slash-Mark and I broke up…”

“I’ve been praying for that,” she admitted dryly.

“Apparently, your prayers were answered.” I grinned. “And…”

She stared at me, her face blank.

“I saw Holst naked,” I blurted. “It was good, and there’s tension. So, I’m gonna wait until he and Drew are done making a mess while they finish the coffee shop. That’ll give the tension some time to ease. Then I’ll go and clean it up. In the meantime, I’m gonna concentrate on buying shit for the coffee shop, and I need your help to come up with a logo for Bear Claw.”

“Here.” She reached into one of her tackle boxes and pulled out a notebook. “Done. I heard Frodo talking to Holst about the name. That was the first thing that popped into my head.”

I held the sketch in my hand and gave her a big-ass smile. “Wow! That’s perfect.” And it was. A black silhouette of a grizzly paw on a cream-colored coffee mug, the image set against a chocolate brown circle with the words Bear above the image and Claw below. “I’ll show Holst later. Let’s motor.”

Armed with chocolate chip cookies, we walked into Beachy Bride. Remember how I said I secretly loved girly crap? Well, when I was little, I had a really expensive doll that came with five outfits. One for horseback riding, though my mother informed me it was “dressage”…with the tall black boots, fitted pants, a jacket, and a little black hat. Everyday casual with a sweater set with—I shit you not—a sundress, and a ball gown for formal events. But it was the wedding gown I adored. The entire doll came inside a travel case that also served as her wardrobe closet. A client gave it to my dad as a thank you for telling him exactly how much higher he needed to go on a property bid.

I locked my bedroom door and created a world for my doll. She was my best and only friend for such a long time, and, because of that, I gave her a grand wedding on an almost daily basis. She had a little, gold crown on top of her head, a flowing veil that covered her long golden locks, and the dress was satin with a gold, swirling brocade design throughout.

And the minute I walked into Beachy Bride, I saw that dress was displayed in the window.

“Oh my God,” I whispered as I stared at the gown.

“You okay?” Dee asked.

“That dress is awesome,” I told her, still on a whisper.

“Wanna try it on? I can break out the champagne and doll you up.”

“Okay,” I quickly agreed, because, apparently, I’d lost my mind.

“Really?” Dee asked, clearly thinking I had lost my mind.

“Do it,” Ruby agreed. Then her deep blue eyes blocked my view of the dress. “You are the antithesis of bride, weddings, lovey-dovey, and happily-ever-after stuff. Seeing you in a wedding dress might actually give the rest of us hope.”

Dee came and grabbed my arm, scowling at Ruby. “Shut up, Ruby. You’re scaring her.”

I was actually shaking, though I really couldn’t tell you why. I wasn’t feeling fear or excitement. Maybe nervousness, but it was more like that time I had four Red Bulls in two hours; I kinda wanted to jump out of my skin.

“Ruby, lock the door and close up The Petal. We have work to do,” Dee snapped.

I loved when she morphed into a Bridal Power Ranger.

“Hang on,” I said, trying to break into the sudden activity around me. The shop was being locked down, shades drawn, and I just stood there like a cookie-holding statue.

Just then, the box was snatched from my hands, followed by my purse, and before I could object, there was Dee. “So, I don’t think I have a strapless to fit your big knockers.”

“They aren’t that big. For my height I think they’re kinda small.” I was a C and always thought I could use a half a cup more.

“Oh!” She snapped her fingers. “I have a bustier that’ll be perfect. And you’re tall so I don’t think the dress’ll be too long.”

“Since I don’t plan on ever wearing a wedding dress unless I’m modeling it, or maybe having dinner at the Danish Consulate, there is nowhere I would ever wear that dress.”

The two women just stared at me. I’d rained on their parade, but they needed to know this was all fiction. I wasn’t Tori. I wouldn’t have my own personal stalker who would make me fall in love with him. Not in a million, trillion, kabillion years.

But I really did want to try that dress on.

***

One hour later.

There was fussing and lacing and zipping and pinning. This was followed by tucking and hair-primping, and, even though I was flying dry these days, I’d had two glasses of champagne.

Then there was knocking.

“I’ll get it,” Ruby offered.

I stood in the middle of the room. There were two walls lined with dresses. Two small couches in the middle with a coffee table between them, and, behind that, a carpeted dais with a three-way mirror. I could see the dress glimmer out of the corner of my eye, caught in the warm afternoon sun peeking through the pulled window shades.

The door opened, the air changed in the room, and there stood Holst.

I wasn’t an idiot. I knew immediately that, at some point, Dee had been texting with Frodo. Frodo had likely crossed paths with Holst, and the rest was playing out before me.

“I heard you were up here,” he said, even and calm, but also careful. He closed and locked the door behind him, never taking his eyes from me.

Ruby followed Dee into the kitchen without a word. Then it was me and him.

Alone.

I hadn’t even noticed before; he was now in jeans, dark denim that hung on his hips, no belt. A thin, white v-neck tee that might as well have been invisible since it showed the same incredible body I’d seen earlier.

I suppose he’d need some kind of excuse to just show up here, and I thought he did well with his. “I’ve narrowed down our baked goods to two bakeries in town that’ll do a delivery every day, seven in the morning. They’ll send us a sample box, or we can go in ourselves. I thought you might like to do that.”

“Sure,” I quickly told him. “Um, Ruby made us a logo design. It’s in my purse.”

“That was quick. Great,” he returned.

“Yeah,” I whispered.

“You look—”

“Naked,” I interrupted, the desperation in my voice totally obvious.

“Please, allow me to finish—”

I didn’t do that.

“We’re even, Holst. Please, don’t say anything else,” I requested.

“Katherine, when have I ever done what you asked of me?” He smirked.

“I’m begging you to try,” I retorted with attitude.

The smirk now a grin, his eyes never left me. “I’ll call you about the tasting. Next week,” he said.

“Fine.”

“Fine,” he agreed and turned back to the door.

“Katherine?”

I put my arms out in annoyance. “Couldn’t just leave it alone—” But my words were cut off when he rushed at me and his lips hit mine, one hand at my back, pulling me to his hard body, the other at the back of my head, deepening the kiss...and oh my God, there had never been a kiss like it. Not ever. Not from the man who stole my heart all those years ago or any of those that came since.

Never one like this.

And I returned as good as he gave, one hand gripped in that thick head of dark hair, tasting, exploring, never wanting it to end. But it had to end, unfortunately.

He pulled away, panting, a light touch of his lip to mine, and said, “You look good enough to eat, baby.”

He was speaking my language.

My mouth was dry when I returned, “Thanks, Holst.”

“See you next week, Katherine.”

When he was gone, Dee appeared at my side. I took the glass of champagne she held out to me and made a statement to the room. “So, that happened. Ladies, we are going to move forward from this day and never speak of it again. Am I understood?”

I looked at my two friends.

I was so not understood.

“That dress was made for you,” Dee told me.

Ruby put in her two cents. “I can see the favors, decorations, cake…everything.”

“I am not getting married,” I insisted.

“Oh yeah you are.” Dee smiled. “It all starts with the dress. The guy comes later.” She nodded toward the door.

And I may have left the house with a new attitude, satisfied to move on, and, if the opportunity presented itself, a great guy with it…

Maybe.

But right then, feeling like the world was waiting for me right outside the door of the bridal shop, I wanted to stay right there, where it was safe. Because I was absolutely fucking terrified.

Holst

I had a plan when I moved to Laguna Beach. I wanted to negotiate a discounted lease with my dad’s landlord and pay him two years in advance before I gutted the one-bedroom studio…and I did. Knowing—or hoping—I’d be there for a while, I wanted to make it my own. For the first time in four years, I only had to think of myself. This was a fresh start, and though I didn’t want to blow money on a rental apartment, it didn’t stop me from going to Ikea, of all places, for furniture and a new kitchen.

I had half the sale of a two-bedroom house in Dana Point to pour into the coffee shop, something I knew in my bones would not, could not, possibly fail. I saw the opportunity and jumped, knowing even with the economy, people still drank coffee. As long as I made it affordable, they would relish the idea of going somewhere to relax, read a book, feel the ocean breeze drift through. Then there were the people who still had money, who would support a local business because, in turn, it supported the community.

It would not fail.

What I didn’t expect was—with a new home, a new business, and swearing off the possibility of a woman in my future, one that was more than just a casual fuck—meeting someone like Katherine. Not only that, but with her pull so strong, I couldn’t control the power she had over me. When I stood before her, nude, my body wet with saltwater from the ocean, I wanted her. I wanted to take all that attitude and fuck it away…her sarcasm, her filthy mouth, her passion, her pain, and show her what a real man was. Katherine declared she was a woman of her word, and I was a perfect match for her…a loyal man.

Always.

Now, I’d further complicated things between us by kissing her. She hit the nail on the head by declaring she was naked, exposed in a way she would never want me to see. But I had. I wasn’t a man to admit fear, not when it came to emotions. Never had I found myself afraid of anything.

Until now.

It had been two weeks since our kiss, and in that time, Drew had completed the rooftop deck. Katherine elected to do the tasting with her friends, Dee and Ruby, suggesting via text that two outside opinions might be helpful, and I agreed, giving her that space. I sent her a message when the shop was finished that I would be there on the following Monday to begin clean-up. Monday morning, I returned from seeing my mother and found Bear Claw had been cleaned, decorated, and stocked with paper cups donning the new logo. Not only that, she’d had coffee mugs custom made with the logo, lined on a shelf for sale behind the counter.

Her major contribution to the shop: a new espresso machine from the distributor I’d recommended in the color of a navel orange. It was sleek, eye catching, and tied into the vintage citrus company signs that decorated the interior walls.

Wifi, phone, computer, and cash register had been installed last week, and the pride of place as you walked in was a vintage diner sign on the counter that read “orders” propped up by a foot-tall wooden grizzly bear. I shouldn’t have expected anything less from Katherine. She’d done most of the buying for the place she’d managed downtown, and from just glancing through the windows of the high-end tourist shop, I could see the same touches there as I had in her apartment. All her, everything in its place, tidy, and with a purposeful quirk. The absence of femininity was obvious, and, at first, I thought maybe it just wasn’t her style. Living with a woman for four years, the fact there was nothing in her home that expressed “woman,” told me this was done with a message to any man who entered: I am not weak; I do not require rescuing. She may have wanted me or the myriad of men she’d brought to her bed to believe that, but it was simply part of her mask. Seeing her in a wedding gown that was clearly meant to be hers, I’d glimpsed the real Katherine, and she definitely needed rescuing.

And, I felt quite certain I was the man for the job.

In a conversation with my mother over the weekend, she asked, “Have you found anyone to spend some time with?” Her gentle way of asking if I was getting laid.

“I believe I have,” I replied and smiled, with the taste of Katherine’s lips a memory I kept close. The image of her in that dress, the wonder of discovery had I the opportunity to kneel before her and reach my hands blindly beneath, to trail between her long legs with my tongue and really get a taste of her; my mind was consumed with these thoughts, day and night, for the last two weeks.

Finally, Tuesday morning, Cameron and Victoria extended an invitation to a party at their home the coming Friday night, celebrating their safe return from their honeymoon.

I’d already brought a few things back from my mother’s place and decided to arrange a gift for the newlyweds. Finally, the day arrived, and I knew, at long last, I’d see Katherine. I walked out the door of Bear Claw, turned right, and stood before the green gate that led to Cameron and Victoria’s home. Footsteps behind me meant other guests had arrived.

“Dude, how’s it going?” This was Frodo, dressed in black jeans, black suede boots, and a navy blue dress shirt. He’d been growing out a beard. His pale skin against unnaturally sapphire blue eyes made them shine, almost eerily, so much so, I couldn’t stop staring at them. “Is it my tattoos, the fact I’m short, or my eyes that are making you uncomfortable?” he asked.

I smirked at his intuitive and candid question. “It was the eyes. I’ve never seen eyes that shade of blue.”

Then this man, who, I would learn over the following months, had a soul as old as the ocean was deep, shared his theory behind the color. “When I’m in turmoil, they become darker.”

To confirm my assumption about the cause of said turmoil, I asked, looking up toward Beachy Bride and the cottages next door, “Is Dee meeting you here?”

“My dove flies alone, my friend.”

I dropped my head with a solemn, sympathetic smile. I knew that feeling, one that most people experience whether they want to or not, usually more than once. And still, you’re never prepared when it happens.

“What’s in the basket?” he asked.

“My mother has a small business in Temecula. She sells lemonade, candied citrus fruits, jams. I just grabbed a few things I thought we could sell at Bear Claw, but decided they’d be good gifts for Victoria and Cameron. People always bring wine. I didn’t want to be that guy.”

“Excellent gesture,” he said and led the way through the gate and up the stairs.

The evening was somewhat subdued, for myself anyway. I decided my best course of action with Katherine was to let her make the next move. There were only a few short weeks until we opened for business. However, that idea was completely forgotten when I watched Drew with her, leaning against a doorjamb, sipping a beer, and speaking quietly so no one could hear. She didn’t appear to be beating him away, sarcastically telling him to “fuck off” as was something I knew her to do…and frequently. She almost seemed resigned to the idea that Drew was making a clear play, letting his intentions be known. He was a decent guy, and no matter his Mount Everest stature, I had the sudden urge to rip his arms off of his body and beat him with them.

Instead, I focused on the beer I was nursing when I was joined by Frodo and Zack, another artist at Coastal Ink. Zack was a loud man, a good man, a naïve man, but, in all that seemed to be outwardly obnoxious about him, he was devoted to his wife, Teensy, in a way that was wonderful to behold, if not disturbing at the same time.

Teensy, Ruby, Dee, and Victoria stood on the porch together. They pulled Katherine from her mountain-man retreat, and there before us stood five women, all incredible beauties, so much so, Zack made the comment, “If I could be the star in my own porno, those five chicks right there would all be in it—together.”

Frodo, who I also learned took great pleasure in the telling of tall tales at Zack’s expense, added to the conversation. “I was a porn actor for a while. It’s not as glamourous as you’d think, Zack.” Then he casually drank from a can of root beer.

“Fuck, really?” Zack had stopped looking at the porch, while Frodo continued to speak, his eyes clearly set on Dee.

“You’re surrounded by a camera crew, like any film set, it’s choreographed, where to put your hand, when to suck her tit, when to fuck her in the ass, and when to come. Every director’s different, and most will let you just go for it. But, add another woman to the mix, let alone four, it gets more complicated.”

Zack had no response to that. He stared at Frodo as if he was a God amongst men, then turned and walked away.

I had to ask and smiled when I did. “Were you really in a porno?”

“I tell a lot of stories, as I’m sure you’ve guessed. When Zack is in audience, I make shit up. However, that story actually happens to be true, though no one would know if I was telling the truth or not.”

I had to shake myself to stop the images of Frodo that suddenly appeared in my head. Then I looked at him, myself at six-foot-two, and he couldn’t have been more than five-foot-six, maybe seven. “I’m not putting you down, but I would’ve thought that, with your stature…”

“I’m short, but I carry a big fuckin’ stick.” He grinned, and I knew it was with great pride.

We heard the combined giggle of the women on the porch. Frodo turned his attention to me and asked, “And what of you and our Katherine?”

“I have no idea,” I told him honestly.

“She carries a secret,” he stated.

I shot him a look, one that wondered if he knew exactly what that secret was.

He answered my silent query. “I’m not privy to the secrets of Katherine, and I’m quite sure even her closest and dearest friends aren’t either.”

Just then, what looked to be random conversation at a party turned into something else as Victoria said, “Brawny?” Her nickname for Cameron. “Can you come up here a sec?”

Cameron joined her as she bent down and opened the hat of a ceramic garden gnome. It was unlike any garden gnome I’d ever seen. Actually, that wasn’t true. In a flash, I recalled Katherine’s similar gnome and realized this was its partner, Zuul.

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands,” she commanded, and did so with a smile so bright, you could feel the pure joy that radiated off of her.

Frodo leaned close to me and whispered, “She’s pregnant.”

“Those girls certainly keep you in the loop,” I commented with a light chuckle.

“No, you can tell. Her face has softened. She’s about to give the man she loves more than anything else in the world the news he most wants to hear.”

And then she did, by way of saying, “Open your eyes,” and placing what appeared to be a pair of baby shoes in his hands.

He closed them tight, gripping the small objects in what I thought was an attempt to control his emotions in front of their sizable audience.

“I know you’re supposed to wait for a few months, but, whatever happens, every single person here is gonna be there right along with us. So, people?” she said, turning toward the crowd. “We’re having a baby.”

“You called it.” I grinned.