the ducks.
"Yes, that Howell, but it's not that big a deal," Carrie said.
"Is that really your husband in the commercials?"
"That's really him."
"Wow. He's attractive."
Carrie shrugged. "He's getting the middle-age spread."
"How long have you been married?"
"Twenty-two years. We seldom see each other, though. I'm certain that's a requirement
for a good marriage. You're never around each other enough to argue. But he's a
workaholic. He has seven stores now. Two in town here and the rest within a two-hundred-
mile radius. He's convinced he has to visit each one personally once a week."
"Wow."
"That impresses you?"
"Seven stores? Yeah, it does. How'd he get started?"
Carrie pointed. "There's Grandma Duck. She's waiting for us." She paused, her eyes still on
the duck. "When we got married, James had every gadget known to man. CDs were just
getting off the ground, computers were still in their infancy and cell phones were about
this big," she said with a laugh, holding her hands apart. "But, if they made it, James had to
have it." She handed Jill some bread then began tossing it to the ducks, making sure
Grandma Duck got her share.
"So that prompted him to open his own store of gadgets?"
"Pretty much. That was before the days of the big chain stores. He made a decent living
but when it became the norm for everyone to have a home computer, that's when his
business really took off. That, and when everything went digital. Phones and cameras. He
was way ahead of the game and he already had a reputation."
"So when the big stores moved in, it didn't cut into his business?"
"Some. But most of his other stores are in smaller towns where the competition is nearly
nonexistent."
"So you don't work then?"
Carrie shook her head. "Not anymore. But it really didn't have anything to do with James. I
was in real estate for years. I had my own money."
When Jill would have asked another question, Carrie turned to her, her blue eyes clear as
they met Jill's.
"You have got to be bored silly hearing about my husband's ascent in the business world.
Tell me what you do."
Again, that sense of familiarity settled over her as she looked into Carrie's eyes. She
smiled before turning back to the ducks.
"I don't even tell my husband about my job, why in the world would you want to hear about
it?"
"Because I'm interested in you."
It was a simple answer said with the casualness of a new friendship. But for some reason,
the words echoed in her brain. Why in the world would Carrie Howell be interested in her?
"I manage an office," Jill finally said. "Tutt Construction. I've been there since I quit
teaching, fifteen years now."
"Oh? You were a teacher? I always think of it as being the worst possible job on the
planet," she said with a laugh. "I don't blame you for quitting. So what does one do to
manage an office?"
"Well, there's the owner, Mr. Tutt's son Johnny who took over about eight years ago.
There's my assistant, who now handles all of the really important things, like making sure
there's coffee in the morning. That leaves me to juggle the accounts and keep them
reconciled, deal with the accountants, deal with the bank and do payroll for the
construction crews."
"You wear quite a few hats," Carrie said.
Jill shook her head. "I've been there so long, I could do it in my sleep," she said. "It's a
relatively stress-free job that brings in more income than my husband's."
"Ouch. That must hurt," Carrie guessed.
"He's a teacher. And a coach," she added. "At Kline High."
"So you were both teachers? What prompted you to quit?"
"I realized I hated teenagers."
Carrie's laughter rang out, startling the ducks as they scurried away from them.
"And now you're living with one. That's priceless."
"Glad you find it amusing," Jill said with a smile.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The inane conversation over dinner was endless and Jill found it hard to keep an interested
look on her face. She'd heard Craig's childhood stories more times than she could count—
they all had—yet his mother continued, droning on and on until Jill felt her eyes rolling to
the back of her head.
"Grandma, tell the one where Dad fell out of the tree," Angie coaxed.
"Oh, I remember when that happened," Craig's uncle chimed in.
Jill looked across the table at Craig, silently begging him to put an end to the storytelling.
He gave her a subtle wink then turned his attention to his mother who had already begun
the story.
Rude or not, Jill simply could not stand it another second. She stood, quietly pointing to the
bathroom. Her mother-in-law never missed a beat.
She closed the door then turned on the water, letting the sound drown out the voices in
the other room. She met her eyes in the mirror, wondering at her irritability this evening.
Of course her in-laws got on her nerves—they always had—but she thought she'd be used
to it by now. The once-a-month dinner party his parents hosted had become so routine, Jill
hardly gave it a thought anymore. But tonight, she simply could not take another second of
it. She sighed, then brushed at the blond hair covering her ears, then fluffed her bangs a
bit. She sighed again.
The restlessness she'd felt all day seemed to escalate as she sat through dinner, growing
with each word her mother-in-law uttered. As she stared into the mirror, she saw the
truth in her hazel eyes and she knew why she felt restless. She didn't understand it, but
she knew why.
It was Saturday.
And as her luck would have it, Monday proved to be a rainy day. She didn't care. She went
to the park anyway.
It was empty.
So she sat in her car, her disappointment nearly choking her as she nibbled at her
sandwich. No, she didn't understand it. How could she become obsessed with a woman
she'd known but a week? What was it about Carrie Howell that drew her?
Lost in thought, she gasped at the urgent knocking on her window. She wiped at the fog on
the glass, her smile matching that of Carrie's as the other woman stared back at her.
Jill quickly unlocked the doors, watching as Carrie hurried around to the passenger's door,
pausing to close her umbrella before getting inside.
"Are you crazy?" Jill asked as the dripping woman got inside her car.
"Apparently. Sorry about your seat here."
"I doubt you could possibly do damage to this old car."
Jill watched as Carrie ran wet hands through her hair, brushing at the drops of water that
clung to her short strands.
"I never told you this before, but I love your hair," Jill said without thinking.
"Thanks. I gave up coloring it about ten years ago. Runs in the family. My mother was
totally gray by forty so I've got her beat. I still have a little pepper mixed in."
"How old are you?"
"Forty-three. You?"
"Still clinging to thirty-nine. For a few more months anyway."
"Well, we'll celebrate. Forty is a great year."
"I think you're the only woman I've ever heard say that." Jill smiled. "And what are you
doing out here in the rain?"
"I could ask you the same question." Carrie's eyes softened as they looked at Jill. "But I
imagine you're doing the same thing I am.
Jill nodded. "I... yes, I suppose I am."
"So, how was your weekend?"