Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
C ece opened her eyes enough to acknowledge that it was morning. She groaned. She’d woken up with a minor headache and a major regret. What on earth had gotten into her last night? Had she actually given a man her phone number? And agreed to go out with him? Worse, she’d said she loved bowling.
She’d never bowled a day in her life. What was wrong with her? That man was probably a beach bum with no job and the kind of casual outlook on life that made her feel panicky.
Her chest felt heavy, as though the weight of what she’d done had settled over her. She tried to move and realized the weight was Peanut, curled up on top of her.
Cece sighed and pulled the covers over her head, dislodging Peanut. Okay, the man had been very handsome. For a beach bum. Then again, maybe that was her wine goggles at work. What if he was actually hideous? She had to call and cancel.
What was his name? Joe? Jonas. Joe for short. Okay, time to let him down gently and then get ready to meet Dr. Keen for breakfast and the interview.
She rolled over to grab her phone and saw the shell Joe had given her. In the pale morning light, it was more beautiful than she remembered. She picked it up. White with irregular stripes of creamy tan, the shell was nearly translucent in the sun.
For reasons she couldn’t fathom, it touched her more than she could say that he’d given it to her, this little wonder of nature.
There were worse things than dinner and bowling with a beach bum, she supposed. He might not even show up. She was making too much out of it. She ought to go and experience something new. It would be good for her.
Maybe she’d even do a little piece on the bowling alley for the Buzz . The newsletter was in constant need of new material.
With a sigh of resignation, she put the shell back on her nightstand and got out of bed.
Peanut, sensing breakfast was imminent, ran to the kitchen, meowing all the way.
Cece chuckled. “Yes, you’re getting fed, but not before I start my coffee.” She needed to drink a big glass of water, too. And maybe take an aspirin. No more drinking for a while. She just couldn’t process it like she had once.
Another reminder that she was not getting any younger. Time was a thief. It stole all the best things from you. Your strength, your looks, your mind. And, apparently, your ability to hold your alcohol.
After the glass of water, she got the coffee started, then opened a pouch of food for Peanut, who was prowling shark-like around Cece’s legs.
As soon as the bowl went down, Peanut focused her attention on eating. Cece fixed a cup of coffee and took it out to the porch to get some fresh air. She had time to sit for a few minutes and let herself wake up a bit more before she jumped in the shower.
Hmm. Her Kindle was still on the table between her chair and the hammock. Good thing this was a low-crime neighborhood. She sat and held her cup with both hands. The sky had a few streaks of soft pink. It was going to be a beautiful Saturday.
That reminded her that she’d taken pictures last night. Or at least she thought she had. She set her cup down and went back in for her phone. Peanut was still eating.
Cece brought her phone outside and sat, immediately pulling up her gallery to see if there was evidence of last night’s adventure.
There was. Two blurry sunset photos and one of what might have been sand. Or a closeup of Jonas’s shorts.
She shook her head. Drinking was definitely off the table for a while. She swapped her phone for her cup and went back to her coffee.
What was she going to wear to this breakfast? She didn’t feel like dressing up, but she had to look professional. The man was a doctor, after all. A heart surgeon. She couldn’t show up looking the way she felt.
She finished her coffee, went in—Peanut was now cleaning herself on the couch—and, after dropping her empty cup in the sink, went to shower.
She still didn’t know what she was wearing. She’d figure it out when she stood in front of her closet. Wasn’t like there was that much to choose from. The hot water helped wake her up and the caffeine seemed to be kicking in.
By the time she got out of the shower, she no longer felt like she needed the aspirin. She towel-dried her hair, then went to assess her clothing options.
She went with navy pants and a navy and white patterned blouse with a lightweight white cardigan. She paired it with navy sandals and gold hoops, then finished her hair with the dryer and a round brush, added some mascara and tinted lip balm and declared herself ready to go.
Dr. Keen wasn’t going to care what she looked like so long as she was presentable.
She thought about driving her car instead of the golf cart so she’d have air conditioning, but there was a decent breeze and the day hadn’t warmed up that much yet. Coming home might be a different story, but she wouldn’t care then.
Golf cart it was. “Peanut, behave yourself while I’m gone.”
She tucked her phone into her tote, which also contained her notebook and her good pen, then she grabbed her keys and was out the door.
The Bee’s Knees was a popular eatery in the Colony, but probably more for lunch than any other meal. Except for their Thursday night prime rib special. Then you couldn’t get in the place.
Although it was Saturday morning. Breakfast might be busy. She hoped they could get a table without an issue.
She found a parking spot, checked herself in the visor mirror to make sure she wasn’t too windblown from the drive over, and went inside, very glad to be a few minutes early.
Dr. Keen was already there, standing near the hostess area. She recognized him from his photo on the hospital website. He was in a polo shirt, khaki shorts, and flipflops. She’d overdressed.
She put on a smile. “Dr. Keen?”
He nodded and held out his hand. “You must be Cece? Call me Oliver.”
She shook it. “Nice to meet you, Oliver. Let’s get a table.”
As soon as they were at a table and had ordered coffee and water, Cece pulled out her notebook and pen. “How do you like the Colony?”
He smiled. “I like it. It’s a real change for me, but it was the right time in my life to do it and so, here I am.”
“Always good to have a doctor in the community. Did you live in a tiny house before you moved here?”
He laughed as the server arrived with their coffee and water. When she left, Oliver continued, his smile already gone. “No. I lived in a pretty large house.” He focused on his coffee, adding a couple packets of sugar.
“What made you decide to downsize so drastically?”
He hesitated. “When is this article going to come out?”
“About two weeks from today.” There was something going on, she could see it in his eyes. A blind man could have figured it out. Oliver Keen had no poker face.
“Okay.” He exhaled. “My wife and I were going through a separation.”
That explained everything. “I’m very sorry.”
“Thanks. The divorce just became official last night.”
Ouch. She felt for him. “This is probably the last place you want to be right now, huh? Do you want to reschedule?”
He shook his head, giving her a quick, polite smile. “No. It’s fine. I just haven’t said anything to anyone at the hospital yet. I’m doing that Monday. Even have a meeting with HR set up so they can send in a request to change my bio on the website.”
“It’s not something I need to mention in the article.”
“Thanks.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “You don’t realize how far the ripples go.”
“What’s that?”
He let out a short laugh. “Someone once told me that getting divorced is like throwing a stone into calm waters. Takes a while for things to settle down after the splash, but eventually, the calm returns. Still waiting on that part.”
She nodded, understanding completely. “It does take a while. I’ve been through it. And it wasn’t pretty.”
“Kids?”
“A daughter, but thankfully older and already on her own.”
“Ours aren’t quite there yet, but they’re close. Harper is about to graduate college and Nolan from high school.” He sighed. “We were supposed to be staying together for them, but Emily changed her mind about that.”
“Why? If you don’t mind me asking.”
He shrugged, toying with the edge of his menu. “I wish I knew. All she tells me is that she’s fallen out of love with me. I get that I work a lot of hours, but she knew what kind of life she was signing up for when she married me. I was in med school. My future was no surprise.”
Cece opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. Her own thoughts had no place in his interview.
“What?” he said. “You were about to say something.”
She shook her head.
“Go on. I haven’t really been able to talk to anyone about this except for one friend, so please, if you have some insight, I’m here for it.”
“It’s just that… Look, I don’t want to upset you?—”
“That ship has sailed. And not because of you.” Another quick, polite smile.
“My husband left me because of something I did.” She took a breath.
“That’s what he said anyway. That it was because he couldn’t take the scandal of it all.
” She gave Oliver a brief explanation of what had happened.
“But that didn’t wash with me and being who I was, I couldn’t let it lie.
I dug into things and quickly found out he was already involved with someone. ”
Oliver’s brows lifted.
“In my experience, people don’t generally leave a comfortable relationship without good reason. Even a less-than-ideal relationship is preferable to being alone, for most people.”
“You think my wife was cheating on me?”
“I have no idea. But if you have a gut instinct about this, you might not be wrong.”
“I don’t know. Emily has never seemed like the kind…” He stopped talking, took a sip of his coffee, then leaned forward. “I never thought she’d divorce me but she did that, so I guess anything else I believed about her could be wrong, too.”
Again, Cece felt bad for him, but there were two sides to every story. “Did you ever…”
“No,” came his quick reply. “And for sure, the opportunities have been there. But that’s not something I would ever entertain.”
“I believe you.” She had no reason not to, and she wasn’t investigating him, just interviewing. “In the year or so before your separation, did your wife pick up any new habits that took her out of the house?”
His eyes narrowed. “She joined the gym and started taking a yoga class in the evenings.”
Cece nodded. “Did she go regularly?”
“She never missed a class.”
“Did you see any results of the class? Did she lose weight? Get more flexible? Anything like that?”
He hesitated. “Nothing I can recall.”
The server returned and took their orders. Cece opted for the thing she thought her stomach could handle the best, a simple bowl of oatmeal with cinnamon and brown sugar.
Oliver ordered eggs, bacon, hashbrowns, and toast.
When the server left, he leaned in again. “This investigating you did on your husband… Any chance you do that for hire?”
She gave a little snort. “Not really.” Then she thought of Maude. “But I have just the person you should talk to.”