Chapter 48
Chapter Forty-Eight
M itch had slept well. Now he stared at himself in the mirror, the bathroom lit by the overhead lights, since it was still early and dark outside. Nothing about his outward appearance had changed. He had the same lines, the same scattering of gray hairs. The same eyebrows that could use some grooming.
He didn’t look any different, despite how he felt.
Last night, for the first time in nearly thirty years, he’d kissed a woman who wasn’t his wife.
The moment had been earthshaking. A total game-changer. And yet, the reflection in the mirror was the same one he’d been seeing every day of his life.
How was that possible?
All because he’d kissed Harper. Then she’d kissed him. Then they’d both pretended it hadn’t happened. That wasn’t a good sign, was it?
He shook his head. Definitely not. He looked himself in the eyes. “You screwed up.”
But there was nothing he could do except move forward.
He went back to the bedroom and put his sneakers on. Then out to the kitchen to get the coffee started. He checked on Ruthie, something that had become part of his morning routine. She was fast asleep and somehow more beautiful than the day before.
He touched her cheek ever so lightly, just to feel how soft and perfect her skin was. “Grandpa loves you, Ruthie.”
Quietly, he went down the steps and left the house. He walked to the end of the driveway, relishing the early morning quiet. It was just what he needed to plan out his apology to Harper. He did not want to lose her as a friend or business associate. Especially not with Kyle about to jump into the fray of publishing.
He needed Harper as part of his team more than ever.
He stuck his earbuds in and started to run.
It was good to pound the pavement. To exert some effort and move his body. After the overindulgence at dinner last night, which he did not regret, he needed this.
Just like he needed to fix things with Harper.
He didn’t think she was mad. He hadn’t gotten that vibe from her. More like she was probably confused and now uncertain as to where things stood between them.
He shook his head at his impulses. Why had he done that? What had come over him?
That was a question he could answer. He’d been overcome with her beauty in the moment. The way she’d looked, bathed in the creamy pink light of sunset, the way she’d been smiling at him…it had been too much for him to resist.
The wine he’d had at dinner hadn’t helped, but blaming his actions on alcohol was no excuse. He’d known what he was doing.
He’d wanted to kiss her, and he had.
Of course…she’d kissed him back. But maybe she’d done that because she’d felt…obligated? He was sort of her boss. Not in the truest sense of the word. Their relationship wasn’t a standard employee-employer set up.
She had been such a help to him. Had he lost that? He’d give whatever it took to fix things.
He practiced the words he wanted to say to her.
Harper, I’m sorry about what happened last night. It was impulsive and juvenile, and I regret making you uncomfortable in any way. I hope you can forgive me and that we can put it behind us and move on. I promise not to do anything like that again.
That expressed everything that he was feeling. Maybe not everything . He did want to do it again. He wouldn’t. But he wanted to. Also, he was embarrassed by what he’d done. He should probably admit that. And tell her that he’d make things up to her in whatever way felt right to her.
And then, if necessary, he’d beg her not to quit.
He exhaled, his breathing coming a little harder as he picked up speed. If that didn’t work, he’d…
He shook his head. He wasn’t sure what he’d do.
Maybe he should talk to Joyce. She was smart about these things. Look how well that basket of dog treats had worked and that had been her idea.
He listened to the podcast coming through his earbuds. The podcast was exploring the Clutter family murders, the family who had become the focus of Truman Capote’s book, In Cold Blood . It wasn’t that interesting to Mitch because he’d read the book and watched a documentary on the murders not that long ago.
That made tuning out the podcast and going back to his thoughts easy to do. Harper was far more interesting to think about.
Despite the apology he’d already formulated, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be involved romantically with a woman like her.
Very different from Jeanie, he imagined. Jeanie would have been the first to admit that she was a big softy and, quite often, a pushover.
Harper wasn’t like that. Harper said what she meant, even if she was careful with her choice of words.
But much like Jeanie, Harper had a real love for people and life. They both loved helping people. They both had an enthusiasm for life. They were both happy people.
Which wasn’t to say that Jeanie had been happy all the time. Mostly, she had been. But several times during their marriage, she’d had low spots. She’d suffered from post-partum depression after Kyle’s birth.
It had taken her a while to get through that. Therapy, medication, and a new diet and exercise plan had all helped. But that was Jeanie’s truth. Her super optimistic outlook had occasionally dipped into the equivalent low.
About two years into their marriage, Jeanie had suffered the first of those lows. She’d stayed in bed for a week, refused to eat anything other than tea and toast, and had spent a lot of time crying or on the verge of tears.
Mitch had felt so helpless, in part because money had been an issue then. He’d been published but only just and was still working a regular job. There’d been no guarantee another publishing contract would even come. He scraped together everything he could to buy her a session with a therapist.
A single session, because that was all he could manage. But she’d come out of it better. Not healed, not back to her usual upbeat self, but better.
Enough that he’d gone into debt to keep her in therapy, borrowing money from his parents, who hadn’t really had it to give.
He’d yet to see those kinds of mood fluctuations in Harper. Could she have them? Anything was possible.
But she was the one who’d gotten him out his grief. She’d known how to gently guide him into talking, and to begin dealing with that grief. He figured she probably knew how to deal with difficult emotions and feelings better than most people.
He slowed as he approached the driveway and shifted from running to walking. He glanced at the guest house. There were lights on. As much as he wanted to talk to Joyce about what had happened, he didn’t want to interrupt her personal time.
She’d be in the house soon enough. He’d find a moment with her at some point today and see what she thought he should do.
He went inside and poured a cup of coffee. Kyle was on the back deck, giving Ruthie her bottle. Instead of going directly to the shower, he went out to see them. “Hey, son. You want a cup of coffee? I’ll make you one.”
“Yeah?” Kyle nodded, eyes heavy-lidded. “That would be great, thanks. A little creamer and two sugars.”
“How does Ruthie take hers?”
Kyle smiled. “She doesn’t need any help being awake.”
Mitch chuckled. “Be right back.”
Mitch got Kyle’s coffee and took it to him. “How’s the princess this morning?"
“Hungry,” Kyle said. He yawned, then shifted Ruthie, but there was no way to free one of his hands.
“You want me to take her?” Mitch asked. He sipped his coffee. “I’m sweaty, but she probably won’t care.”
Kyle shook his head. “It’s okay, she’s almost done with breakfast. Go shower or do whatever you usually do.”
“All right.” He hesitated by the door. “Are you good with me talking to Lucinda about your book today?”
A little smile broke through the sleepiness on Kyle’s face. “Yeah. Nervous. But good. Thanks.”
“Okay. It’s first on my agenda.” Mitch went inside, drinking a little more of his coffee.
Joyce was turning on the kitchen lights. “Morning.”
“Good morning. Thanks again for that dinner last night. You and Beryl make quite a team.”
“Thank you.” Joyce glanced at him. “You had a good night then?”
“I did. We all did.” He hesitated. He had the strangest feeling she already knew what had happened, but the moment was right and he wanted her input. “I need some advice.”
Joyce poured herself a cup of coffee. “Happy to help, if I can.”
He glanced toward the deck. Kyle was still occupied with Ruthie. “I did something last night I shouldn’t have, and I probably offended Harper. As a woman, what do you think is the best way to make things right?”
She’d been about to open a cabinet. Instead, she turned to look at him. Really look at him. “Did this something happen on the walk you two took?”
“Yes.”
“You snogged her, didn’t you?”
“Snog—oh, right. Um, yes.” He puffed out his cheeks as he exhaled. Admitting what he’d done was harder than he’d expected. He felt like a teenager confessing to his mom.
Joyce sipped her coffee, eyes narrowed. “And you think a kiss offended Harper?”
“I do.”
“Why? Was it against her will? Did you force yourself on her?”
He frowned. “No, nothing like. It’s just, I shouldn’t have done it. We work together. It wasn’t very professional.”
“What did she do after you kissed her?”
“She, uh…she kissed me back.”
Joyce rolled her lips in like she was trying not to smile. “Oh, my days. And you think she was offended?”
“Well…yes.” He went behind her to refill his coffee so he’d have a full cup while he was getting ready.
She nodded. “Explains a lot about all that weirdness when you two got back. You need to talk to her.”
Had they been weird? He hadn’t thought so. “I plan to.”
“Good.” She cut her eyes at him. “Now go shower. You’re whiffy.”
He shook his head as he went to the bedroom. If talking to Harper was Joyce’s best advice, he might be in more trouble than he’d thought.