Chapter Two #3
“I’m sorry,” she said, sounding flustered and oddly shaken. “I had no idea those last few chores would take me so long. Oh, you must be starved. I hope you’ve ordered.” Lindy removed her coat and stuffed it into the booth before sliding onto the red upholstered seat herself.
“Actually, no, I didn’t.” Cait sighed. “Just tea.” Her spirits were at an all-time low.
It was becoming painfully clear that Paul didn’t harbor a single romantic feeling toward her.
She was wasting her time and her emotional energy on him.
If only she’d had more experience with the opposite sex.
It seemed her whole love life had gone into neutral the moment she’d graduated from college.
At the rate things were developing, she’d still be single by the time she turned thirty—a possibility too dismal to contemplate.
She hadn’t given much thought to marriage and children, always assuming they’d naturally become part of her life; now she wasn’t so sure.
Even as a child, she’d pictured her grown-up self with a career and a family.
Behind the business exterior was a woman traditional enough to hunger for that most special of relationships.
She had to face the fact that marriage would never happen if she continued to love a man who didn’t return her feelings. She gave a low groan, then noticed that Lindy was gazing at her in concern.
“Let’s order something,” Lindy said quickly, reaching for the menu tucked behind the napkin holder. “I’m starved.”
“I was thinking I’d skip lunch today,” Cait mumbled. She sipped her lukewarm tea and frowned. “Joe will be taking me out to dinner soon. And frankly, I don’t have much of an appetite.”
“This is all my fault, isn’t it?” Lindy asked, looking guilty.
“Of course not. I’m just being practical.” If Cait was anything, it was practical—except about Paul. “Go ahead and order.”
“You’re sure you don’t mind?”
Cait gestured nonchalantly. “Heavens, no.”
“If you’re sure, then I’ll have the turkey on whole wheat,” Lindy said after a moment. “You know how much I like turkey, though you’d think I’d have gotten enough over Thanksgiving.”
“I’ll just have a refill on my tea,” Cait said.
“You’re still flying to Minnesota for the holidays, aren’t you?” Lindy asked, fidgeting with the menu.
“Mmm-hmm.” Cait had purchased her ticket several months earlier.
Martin and his family lived near Minneapolis.
When their father had died several years earlier, Cait’s mother moved to Minnesota, settling down in a new subdivision not far from Martin, his wife and their four children.
Cait tried to visit at least once a year.
However, she’d been there in August, stopping off on her way home from a business trip.
Usually she made a point of visiting her brother and his family over the Christmas holidays.
It was generally a slow week on the stock market, anyway.
And if she was going to travel halfway across the country, she wanted to make it worth her while.
“When will you be leaving?” Lindy asked, although Cait was sure she’d already told her friend more than once.
“The twenty-third.” For the past few years, Cait had used one week of her vacation at Christmas time, usually starting the weekend before.
But this year Paul was having a Christmas party and Cait didn’t want to miss that, so she’d booked her flight closer to the holiday.
The waitress came to take Lindy’s order and replenish the hot water for Cait’s tea.
The instant she moved away from their booth, Lindy launched into a lengthy tirade about how she hated Christmas shopping and how busy the malls were this time of year.
Cait stared at her, bewildered. It wasn’t like her friend to chat nonstop.
“Lindy,” she interrupted, “is something wrong?”
“Wrong? What could possibly be wrong?”
“I don’t know. You haven’t stopped talking for the last ten minutes.”
“I haven’t?” There was an abrupt, uncomfortable silence.
Cait decided it was her turn to say something. “I think I’ll wear my red velvet dress,” she mused.
“To dinner with Joe?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “To Paul’s Christmas party.”
Lindy sighed. “But what are you wearing tonight?”
The question took Cait by surprise. She didn’t consider this dinner with Joe a real date. He just wanted to talk over old times, which was fine with Cait as long as he behaved himself. Suddenly she frowned, then closed her eyes. “Martin’s a Methodist minister,” she said softly.
“Yes, I know,” Lindy reminded her. “I’ve known that since I first met you, which was what? Three years ago now.”
“Four last month.”
“So what does Martin’s occupation have to do with anything?” Lindy asked.
“Joe Rockwell can’t find out,” Cait whispered.
“I didn’t plan on telling him,” Lindy whispered back.
“I’ve got to make up some other occupation like...”
“Counselor,” Lindy suggested. “I’m curious, though. Why can’t you tell Joe about Martin?”
“Think about it!”
“I am thinking. I really doubt Joe would care one way or the other.”
“He might try to make something of it. You don’t know Joe like I do. He’d razz me about it all evening, claiming the marriage was valid. You know, because Martin really is a minister, and since Martin performed the ceremony, we must really be married—that kind of nonsense.”
“I didn’t think about that.”
But then, Lindy didn’t seem to be thinking much about anything lately. It was as if she was walking around in a perpetual daydream. Cait couldn’t remember Lindy’s ever being so scatterbrained. If she didn’t know better, she’d guess there was a man involved.