“And when you were married?”
“Oh, by that time I’d accepted that I didn’t know how to stay in one place. Marrying a military man seemed like the perfect situation.”
Frank shook his head. “But you’ve been here in Promise for quite a while, right? How do you manage now?”
“I went to therapy for a while before and after my divorce, and I realized leaving was a coping mechanism. It was a distraction from things about my life I wasn’t happy with.”
“So once you dealt with those things, you didn’t need to keep moving on?”
“Yes. I could sit still.”
“Must have been a relief to figure that out.”
“It was,” she said quietly. It didn’t seem right to discuss anything surrounding her divorce so early in this relationship, but she supposed vague references were occasionally okay.
“How about your divorce? Was it a very messy one?”
Unless, of course, he asked.
“Aren’t they all?” she said.
“I hear of occasional smooth ones.”
It occurred to Julia that she’d been letting Frank ask most of the questions. “And yours? Smooth or rough?”
“Believe it or not, we split pretty congenially. It had been a long time coming, and we both knew it, I think.”
“Yes, it’s easier if no one is caught by surprise.”
“I’m afraid the kids were surprised by it. That’s my only regret.”
“How old were they?”
“Twenty and twenty-two, but they were still pretty unhappy.”
Julia sighed, thinking of her own kids. “My sons didn’t seem to care that much one way or the other. Probably because they’re boys-they tend to keep their feelings to themselves.”
“Were they grown when you split up?”
“Yes, all three were out of the house. Once we didn’t have raising the boys to distract us from each other anymore, and we were settled in one place finally, there wasn’t any getting around the fact that we made each other miserable.”
Or, to put it more accurately, there was no denying that she no longer wanted to be married to her ex-husband. He’d seemed happy enough with the status quo. But that was a detail for another time.
“That’s exactly what happened to us. Well, and my ex-wife, Linda, had always wanted to live in the city and have a cosmopolitan life. The girls had been my excuse for staying put, and when I didn’t have that excuse anymore, she picked up and left. We’d grown apart in our interests and priorities, that’s all.”
She didn’t hear any bitterness in his voice, and she was glad of that. It also spoke well of him that he took some ownership for the marriage problems.
“And did Linda remarry?”
“Yes, she’s with a nice man and seems happy. I’m glad to see her moving on.”
“I thought we might have a drink here,” Julia said as they reached the main intersection in town. They stood in front of a lovely little wine bar, warmly lit and inviting.
“Looks perfect.” Without a moment’s resistance, Frank opened the door and waited for her to go inside.
She loved that he could let her select a place without having a debate over it. And she loved that he listened. And asked questions. And seemed interested in the answers.
If she wasn’t careful, she feared she’d start falling for him all too fast. Already she felt a delicious tingle of excitement down low in her belly, a sensation she hadn’t experienced in so many years, she’d forgotten it existed until now.
No, there had to be something wrong with Frank, some fatal flaw lurking about waiting to pop up and surprise her when she least expected it. She had to keep her eyes open wide.
The place was sparsely populated with customers. They found chairs at the end of the bar, away from the chatter of the nearest couple, and a bartender brought them menus.
“Are you a white-or a red-wine lady?”
“I like both, but I think I’m in the mood for red tonight.”
“Maybe we could each get a glass and try two different reds?”
“Sure.” She read over the menu, and once they’d made their selections and ordered, Julia took a moment to look around.
The other couples were mostly younger and hipper looking than her and Frank, but she felt at ease.
“So,” she said, “how have you managed to stay single all this time?”
Not that she expected him to tell the truth, but she figured she might get some hint of it with a well-timed question.
Frank flashed a wry grin. “I’ve dated a bit, but there has only been one serious relationship since my divorce. We were together for a year before figuring out we weren’t right for each other.” He paused and shrugged. “Since then I haven’t met anyone I wanted to share my life with.”
Julia nodded. Boy, did she ever relate. “It’s hard after having a long marriage, isn’t it?”
“When you’ve already spent a lifetime making things work.”
“I was surprised how much I’ve come to value my independence.” Julia’s face warmed. Was she supposed to say such things on a first date? Was it considered gauche to point out the downsides of relationships to a potential boyfriend?
Oh, who the hell cared? She didn’t want to play games. She wanted to be honest, damn the consequences.
To her pleasant surprise, Frank simply nodded in agreement. “Yes, exactly.”
The bartender brought the wine they’d ordered and gave each of them a taste before pouring the glasses. The spicy smooth taste of the merlot went straight to Julia’s head, and she found herself warming even more to Frank even before the wine had any real chance to affect her.
“I hope I’m not sounding old and bitter,” Julia said in a conspiratorial tone, leaning in close.
“Not at all. Do you feel old and bitter?”
“No. And you?”
“I did until I walked into that coffee shop and saw you sitting there.”
“Oh?”
Frank sipped his wine, his eyes twinkling. “Have you ever gotten into a funk and not even recognized the landscape until something good happened to shake you out of it?”
She gave the matter some thought and recalled the moment she’d seen Frank’s online profile. It had created an instant sense of dissatisfaction-as if her life suddenly was less for not knowing him. “I have, now that you mention it.”
“Meeting you shook me out of my funk, so thank you.”
Julia thought of chiming in with a “Me, too,” but it would have been the equivalent of heaping sugar on top of a hot-fudge sundae. Instead, she kept her mouth shut and basked in feeling the best she’d felt in years-decades, perhaps.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SOLEIL OPENED one eye and squinted at the clock.
The sound of a horn honking at nine-fifteen in the morning was not a welcome one. This was supposed to be a day of sleeping in, being lazy, relishing her aloneness and nothing-to-do-ness for the first time in several months.
She wasn’t expecting any deliveries, or visitors, or-
Her mother.
She sat up in bed to peer out the window, and sure enough, the telltale sight of a white Honda in the driveway greeted her.
Oh God, oh God, oh God.
Wasn’t her mother supposed to arrive tomorrow? Definitely tomorrow. She was sure if it, because she’d been certain to mark her calendar with the date her mother had said she was arriving.
But here Anne was, getting out of the car, slamming the door, walking back to the trunk and opening it…
Soleil flopped down on her pillow and groaned. Maybe she could not answer the door.
Except her car was parked out front, and she’d only be delaying the inevitable.
So she got out of bed, went to the bathroom, washed her hands and splashed a little water on her face. Then she grabbed her bathrobe and shrugged it on before heading downstairs to open the door.
“Hello?” she could hear her calling from outside.
“Just a sec,” she called as she unlocked and opened the door that her mother was urgently knocking on. “I thought you were getting here tomorrow.”