Epilogue #2
Thank the heavens for Rob being clothed because it would take her a lifetime to scrub the memory of his nakedness from her brain. No one except Trish needed to see that much of the man.
“You ready to go?” Trish picked up her purse from the hall table and looked over her shoulder. “Honey, I’m leaving.”
Rob rushed around the corner and kissed Trish long and hard.
“It’s not like she’ll disappear forever,” Dani said.
“We’re only hanging out for a few hours.
” Since her bestie had found love, their girl time shrunk from several nights a week dining out and watching movies to a few hours on the weekend.
She didn’t begrudge Trish’s happiness. It was simply that Danielle was lonely.
She wanted love. Instead, she got visiting rights to Trish.
She spun around and left the lovebirds on the doorstep to say their goodbyes.
Back behind the steering wheel, she waited and waited and waited.
Five minutes later, Trish skipped down the walkway like a teen after a tryst at Lookout Point. Her lips were red and bee-stung while her cheeks glowed with a youthful blush.
“Sorry about that. It’s a special day—our three-month anniversary.”
Danielle rolled her eyes. “Tell me it’s special when you hit your third-year anniversary.” She started the engine and looked over her shoulder to back out of the driveway. “I hope his kisses still weaken you in the knees then.”
Trish dismissed her with a wave of her hand. “You’re so jaded.”
“I’m allowed to be.” She squeezed the steering wheel harder and watched the blood drain from her fingers. “Don’t forget that on my three-month anniversary, my husband wasn’t running to kiss me. He was in room 301 banging Ms. Bancroft.”
“Not all men are like Chris.”
Danielle looked at her blissfully happy friend. “You’re right. I can’t punish every man for Chris’s infidelity, stupidity, or complete disregard for anyone but himself. I should blame myself for being so impulsive. Who marries a guy after a month of dating?”
“We do. And sometimes it works out.” She cocked her head to the side. “Look at Cinderella. She got the prince after one dance, and one day you’ll hear the name Chris and say, ‘Who’?”
“Let’s hope.” Seeing Trish happily married made Danielle happy, but it also made her miss the times when there was a man to warm her heart and her bed. “What are we doing today?” She cruised slowly down Trish’s street, waiting for the details.
“It’s Swap Meet Saturday in Cedar Bluff.” Trish bounced in her seat like a kid with front-row seats to a Taylor Swift concert.
“Thank God. I feared you’d set up another intervention.”
Trish twisted to look at her. “Gene wasn’t an intervention. He was a?—”
“A disaster. The man wouldn’t even look me in the eye, and you know how I feel about that. It’s a sign of disrespect or dishonesty.”
“Gene is shy, not dishonest.”
“It’s said that eyes serve as a window to the soul, which explains why I can be sure he’s missing one. I never once looked into his.” She steered onto the highway for Cedar Bluff.
“He’s got a soul. He also has an astigmatism, and that makes him self-conscious.”
“Too bad he didn’t have another ism like magnetism. The man was as exciting as a wet sponge. If this is what my dating life will be like, I’ll pass. How could you think I’d be interested in him?”
Trish let out an exasperated breath. “I’ll give you some isms. You’re going to give me an aneurysm with your criticism. Cut me some slack. I’d never met him, but Rob said he was nice and decent looking.”
“If you like trolls.”
“Okay, I promise to screen anyone Rob suggests.”
They pulled into the parking lot of Cedar Bluff High School and exited the car. “You need to promise to stop meddling in my life,” Danielle said.
“You don’t have one unless you call working around the clock a life. You never take time for fun. You know what they say … all work and no play?—”
“Keeps me out of bankruptcy. I’m saddled with debt, and fun doesn’t pay the bills.”
“Fine. What’s happening with the big takeover?”
“Argh, they’re starting with the sweeping changes already—instead of The Pines, it’s called Luxe Resorts.”
“Ooh, sounds posh.”
They paid, entered the flea market, and walked down the first aisle.
“Sounds scary to me. First, the name goes, and next, the staff.”
“You’re good at your job. I don’t imagine you’ll have much to worry about.”
Trish would never understand financial fear. She came from money.
Something caught Trish’s eye, and she took off like a dog after a bone.
Danielle chased her, grateful she was dressed in sneakers and jeans. “What are you looking for?”
“Inspiration.” She held up a lamp with a shade faded by age and bartered with the owner until she got him to accept five dollars. After completing the deal, she asked him to hold it until she finished her rounds.
Danielle picked up a heart-shaped box at the next vendor and opened it to find nothing but lint and dust. Is that what her heart looked like inside?
Trish snatched the box from her and set it down, leading her to the next seller, who had cross-stitch and paint-by-number kits by the hundreds.
“You’re thirty-five, not dead. Look at me.” Trish stomped her foot to get her attention. “I found love in my thirties.”
“I found it too, and all it got me was an empty bank account and heartache.”
Trish lifted a cross-stitch of a lady surrounded by cats. “If you’re not careful, you’ll be her.”
Danielle plucked the kit from her friend’s hand and set it down. “Never. I’m allergic to cats. Besides, I’m good with my life the way it is.”
Trish shook her head and moved them along. “You work and sleep.”
“And take field trips with you, which is all the fun I can handle.”
“Your life should be more. Maybe a hobby would be good.” Trish turned around and headed back to the craft table. “Cross-stitch could be fun.”
Had her life turned into TV dinners, cross-stitching, and Murder She Wrote ? She’d only started watching that show to determine how to murder Chris and get away with it, but she realized the killer always got caught.
“If I agree to try a new hobby, will you stop setting me up on blind dates?”
Smiling, Trish said, “Yes. I won’t set you up at all.”
Danielle searched the nearby vendors for anything to get Trish off her back. Spotting a box of cookbooks with a five-dollar tag, she hurried over. Trish knew Danielle couldn’t boil an egg, so it was a believable attempt at a hobby.
“I’m getting this.” Feeling victorious, she paid for the books and smirked.
Trish picked up the top one. “The Beginners Guide to Baking.” She let out a laugh that shook her entire body. “I can’t wait. The last time you “baked” a cake, it cost you fifty dollars from Connie’s Confections.”
“There was no way I was showing up empty-handed. And no one needed to know I bought that cake.”
“My mom still thinks you’re the most skilled cake baker in Pitkin County.
Danielle lifted her chin. “What they don’t know won’t hurt me.” She asked the man to hold the books, and they moved down the aisle. She had no intention of using the cookbooks. Chances were, they’d stay in the back of her car until she could donate them to a charity.
“I want to taste the first thing you cook. Rob can be your guinea pig too.”
Danielle stopped to look at her friend. “Do you have a death wish? Besides, I thought you liked your husband.”
“I do, but to keep you honest, I’ll be your taste tester. And you’re not allowed to leave the books in the back of your SUV or give them away. You have to give your new hobby an honest try.” With that, Trish raced to another table and picked up a chinoiserie bowl.
When she caught up with her friend, Danielle said, “You already have one like that.”
“I did.” She shrugged. “But you know … there are so many surfaces.”
“That’s why you needed that lamp.” Danielle’s jaw dropped. “Come to think of it, that entry table is new too. You two are too much.”
“You’re jealous.”
She sucked in a breath and let out a sigh. “You’re right.” She moved through the rows. “Is it that good?”
“The sex?” Trish turned and headed down the next aisle. “Remember that better-than-sex chocolate cake Ms. Ferguson made?”
Danielle gasped. “No. Better than that?” That cake was an orgasm without a man.
“It’s ten times that.”
She shouldered her friend. “I would hate you if I didn’t love you so much.
” Trish had become like a sister to her, far more than either of the two she shared DNA with.
They first met during their first year of college, and since then, they had been almost inseparable.
Trish’s family was similar to Danielle’s, except that Danielle’s father didn’t wear a yarmulke and ate bacon and pork ribs like there was no other option.
“And because you love me, you’ll keep an open mind when I tell you what I did?” Trish led her to the funnel cake booth and ordered two with extra sugar.
“If it needs extra sugar, it must be bad.” She clenched her jaw until her teeth hurt. “What did you do?”
Trish picked up a funnel cake and stepped back. “It’s notthatbad.”
“If you’re buying sweets, it is. You also gave yourself running room, which means it’s worse than bad. Spill it.”
Trish stepped back once more. “I worked it out, so you have an appointment with Aunt Freida.”
Danielle’s mind raced through Trish’s relatives until she figured out who Freida was.
“You did not.” She took a large bite of the sugary cake, trying to cover the bitter taste in her mouth. “Aunt Freida, the matchmaker?”
“Yes, she set up my parents, sister, and brother. She has a sixty percent success rate with women on the shelf.”
Danielle choked, and a puff of sugar floated around them. “I’m not on the shelf. I’m only thirty-five.”
Trish smiled. “My point exactly.”
“Hey, you promised no more set-ups if I agreed to try a hobby.”
“No, I said I wouldn’t do it. Give it a try.
Aunt Freida’s got stellar taste. She’ll find you a good man.
” With a flick of her finger, Trish removed the excess sugar from her plate, and a sweet cloud once again surrounded them.
“She’s expecting you tomorrow at noon. I’ll text you her address.
Remember, she never works on Sunday, but you’re family. ”
“No, no, I can’t have your family set me up. I’m not …”
Trish lifted her perfectly plucked brow. “Jewish?”
“No. You know, race, religion, and status mean nothing to me. I want to find love organically. It shouldn’t be a business deal.”
Trish let out a huff. “With a fifty percent marriage failure rate, why wouldn’t you enter it like a business deal?”
“Did you and Rob enter matrimony with an outlined contract?”
“Yes, but it was verbal. I told him I’d kill him if he made me unhappy.” She cocked her head and grinned.
“I can show you some episodes ofMurder, She Wrote that might be useful. As long as Angela Lansbury doesn’t show up, you should be fine.”
They walked the rest of the way through the market. Trish bought everything to do with baking. There were measuring spoons and cups and an apron that said, spooning leads to forking.
She handed them to Danielle. “I’m supporting your new hobby.”
Danielle suppressed a groan. Now she’d have to pull out a cookbook and attempt to make something that wouldn’t kill them all.
“I’ll invite you over for a scheduled poisoning soon.”
They picked up their purchases and headed to the car. When they returned to Trish’s house, she leaned over and hugged Danielle. “You’re worthy of more than you got. Never forget that. There is a man looking for you.”
“Should I hoist a flag that says, ‘I’m over here?’”
“No, but don’t be late to Aunt Freida’s, or she might curse you instead of bless you.”
“I don’t want to go. What if Freida says I’m hopeless?”
Trish gathered her purchases and climbed out of the SUV. “Then I’ll help you buy some cats.”