The Red Hat Society's Domestic Goddess (26 page)

Now she was the one looking for the television remote. Of course she wanted to record the news at noon; they were going to
be showing the segment they’d shot at the community center. But she couldn’t find the remote lying in his recliner or on the
glass-topped coffee table. So she opened the espresso-colored entertainment unit, but the armoire was empty. No television
sat inside, as it always had.

“Where did it go?” she wondered aloud, worried that they’d been robbed. But the patio doors, through which the sun poured,
were unbroken. How had a robber gotten
inside? If she and Wally weren’t home, they engaged the security system.

“What?” Wally asked, as he descended the stairs to the family room.

She gestured toward the empty armoire, but her focus was on him. He looked handsome in his dark suit, his green eyes bright
with excitement. Her pulse skittered with a little excitement of her own, then she remembered his question.

“The television’s missing. I think we’ve been robbed,” she said, a feeling of being violated building. She hated the idea
that a stranger might have been in their home.

“We haven’t been robbed,” he assured her. “I know where it is.”

“Where? The repair shop?” She wouldn’t be surprised if he’d worn it out during those months of inactivity after his retirement.

“No, it’s not broken,” he told her as he stripped off his suit jacket and loosened his green silk tie. Instead of dropping
the jacket on the floor, he draped it over the back of his recliner.

“Did you give our TV away?” she asked.

“I thought about that,” he admitted. “But I kept it. We’ll watch Millie on the news later. It’s set to record.”

“Where is it?” Theresa asked again.

“In the storage room.” Which was just off the family room. “Along with all the other stuff we only use occasionally.”

“We’re only going to use our television occasionally?” she asked, shocked.

He nodded vehemently. “Of course. We have better things to do.”

He did. She wasn’t so sure about herself anymore. She’d had a breakfast meeting, too, with Millie and Kim. The domestic goddess
was sticking to her plans… with some modifications.

“Such as?” she asked him.

He stepped closer and took her hand. “How about we go for a walk?”

“A walk?”

“Like we used to. I’d walk you home from a date and steal a kiss on your parents’ front porch.”

Feeling a little giddy, Theresa nodded. “I’d love to take a walk with you.”

They ducked out their patio doors, walking around the grounds rather than the streets of Hilltop. The complex was delightfully
landscaped, with glorious gardens and small ponds where goldfish swam in the sun-kissed water.

As they walked, the years and the children and grandchildren, all of it fell away. They were two teenagers again, crazy in
love, their hands trembling as they held each other’s.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said.

“Walking?” she asked, shaking her head, then leaning close enough to brush her face against his shoulder. “I don’t mind at
all. In fact I love it.”

“Good,” he said, squeezing her hand. “But that wasn’t what I was referring to.”

“You’re talking about missing Millie’s debut?” she asked. “You taped it. We can watch it later.” She
wouldn’t miss a minute of this time with Wally, not even for her friends.

“Yes, we will,” he agreed, “but what I hope you don’t mind is that I’ll still be around the house a lot. I’m limiting my hours
at the office and on the golf course. I’d rather be with you,” he told her as they neared the patio where they’d begun their
walk. Flowers hung from the deck above; impatiens in hot pink, deep red, and pristine white streamed down.

Theresa’s heart softened, moved by his confession. “Oh, Wally…”

“That’s why I put the TV away. I’d rather watch you than it. You’re so beautiful, even more so than the day I met you,” he
said, cupping her cheek. Then he stole a kiss, just like he had so many years ago.

And like so many years ago, he stole Theresa’s heart. Again.

“I love you, Wally. I’ll love spending every minute I can with you,” she promised him, as she wrapped her arms tight around
her husband, ready to hold on for the rest of their lives.

M
illie glanced at her hair once in the rearview mirror before sliding out of the driver’s seat in the garage. She’d had her
beautician touch up the cinnamon color. It was probably a good thing she’d worn the red hat for the taping even with the tiara.
It had hidden the gray showing at her roots. But the gray was gone now.

As were the helpless men who’d brought it on. Mitchell was getting serious about Victoria; he looked at
her the way his father had looked at Millie so many years ago. And Steven was home where he belonged.

Millie grabbed her purse and gathered up the big manila folder lying on the passenger seat. She’d made a stop after the beauty
parlor at a travel agency. She’d booked that cruise she’d promised herself as a retirement reward. Giving in to her eternally
optimistic nature, she’d bought two tickets. If Charles didn’t want to use one, she could always ask Mr. Lindstrom; with Kim
serious about her neighbor, he would need a consolation prize.

But Millie didn’t want to be anyone’s consolation prize, almost as much as she didn’t want to be anyone’s maid. She would
make Charles a pie, though, and bring that over to his place with the tickets. Hopefully the pie would mellow him out enough
to listen to her proposal.

Not a marriage proposal, but a traveling proposal.

The scent of cinnamon and apple wafted out of the house. Someone was already baking.

She considered reaching for the feather duster that stood handle up in a milk crate next to the back door. But she doubted
she needed it to fend off a robber; it wasn’t likely anyone had broken into her house to bake.

“Hello?” she called out, expecting Steven, or maybe Mitchell, although she hadn’t seen their cars.

“Brigitte?” Her dad could have dropped her off.

“Don’t be disappointed,” a deep voice called back, “it’s just me.”

“Charles?” She walked into her kitchen slowly, as if walking into a strange house and not her own home. It was almost as if
she didn’t know where she was. Since
Steven had moved out, she’d grown used to her house being quiet and empty again.

“You’re not armed,” he observed, as he glanced over his shoulder from where he stood at her stove.

“Armed?” She shook her head. “That’s Kim who carries Harry, not me.”

“I’ve been warned that you wield a mean feather duster,” he said.

She flushed, since she had considered it. “Steven told you. He must have given you the key, too?”

“He would have, but Kim had already told me where you keep it.”

Kim, the traitor, had struck again.

Millie glanced toward the dining area, where her good china was set on the white linen tablecloth and candles burned in polished
brass holders.

“So you didn’t break in to rob me,” she surmised.

He chuckled. “I don’t want to take anything away from you. I want to give you something.”

“What?” she asked, heart pounding as her nerves jumbled around in her stomach.

“For starters,” he said, deep voice full of mystery, “I want to give you your favorite meal.”

“What’s that?” she asked, curious if he knew.

“For an appetizer, Jalapeño-Stuffed Bacon-Wrapped Shrimp. For an entrée, Chicken Thighs with Wine, and for dessert Brown Bag
Apple Pie.”

“Hmm,” she mused, impressed despite how obvious she’d made it for him, “you figured that out from class, huh?”

He grinned. “Yeah, I figured that out.” His tone suggested he’d figured out some other things as well. “Go, sit down. I’ll
serve you.”

And he did.

In addition to her favorite recipes, he’d made rolls, wonderful crunchy-on-the-outside, soft-on-the-inside whole wheat rolls,
and a salad with fresh strawberries and walnuts.

“This is wonderful,” she told him. “You pass.”

“What?”

“The class. You get an A.”

“I didn’t do this for Millie, the teacher,” he said. “I did this for Millie, the woman.”

Her breath caught in her lungs. “Why?”

“Because I’m falling for her.” A ragged breath shuddered out of him on a sigh before he added, “Hard.”

“Charles…”

He reached across the tablecloth, taking her hand in his. “I should have told you sooner.”

“When?”

“When should I have told you or when did I start falling?” he asked, with a teasing glint in his bright blue eyes. “I think
I knew when you pulled out of the garage and nearly ran Buddy over.”

“Where is Buddy?” she asked, suppressing a smile at the frustration that drew a frown on his handsome face.

“You’re asking about Buddy
now?”
he asked, knitting his brows with mock irritation.

“I wouldn’t want him to be alone,” she teased.

“Don’t worry. Vic and Mitch took him roller blading in the park.”

“How do they fit the Rollerblades on his paws?”

“Millie!” he said, exasperated. “You’re not going to make this easy for me.”

She shook her head, not caring that her curls tumbled around her face. “Fraid not.”

He leaned farther over the table and pressed his mouth against hers. When he drew away, her breath shuddered out of her. “Keep
talking and I’11 have to keep doing that,” he threatened, “so you’ll stop.”

“I don’t want to stop—” She couldn’t finish because his lips stilled hers.

He pulled back, pressing a finger against her lips instead. “You’re too distracting.” He shook his head. “What was I saying?”

“That you’ve fallen for me,” she reminded him, with a wistful sigh. “Hard.”

“And I should have told you sooner.”

She nodded. “That would have been nice. But then I should have told you, too.”

“Told me what?” he asked, his blue eyes bright and hopeful.

She gathered her courage in a fortifying breath, then said, “That I’m falling for you, too.”

“Ah, Millie,” he said, threading his fingers through her curls as he leaned his forehead against hers. “You make me feel things
I don’t think I’ve ever felt…”

She couldn’t say the same. She’d been in love before; she knew its giddy rush. But this was different; she was a woman falling
in love, not a girl. She felt deeper and more. “Charles…”’

“I know you loved your husband a lot, that you probably
still miss him, and I’m not trying to take his place. I just want to share your life.”

And here was where they ran into problems. “You want to share mine or have me share yours?” she asked. “I loved being married
to Bruce, but I don’t want to repeat that relationship. It was work. Mine. I want to retire that tiara,” she said, gesturing
to where her red hat, adorned with the glittery piece of jewelry in question, sat on the counter.

“I don’t want you to wait on me,” he vehemently insisted, nearly sounding insulted.

“But what about on the days that you work?”

“We’ll go out to dinner those nights.”

“And on the days when I work?”

“You work? Where?” he asked, his deep voice vibrating with excitement. “At the television station?”

She smiled. “I talked to them today.” They’d given her a copy of what they’d shown on the noon news that day. “I can tape
segments far ahead of time. I won’t be working every day. There. Or teaching the classes. Kim and Theresa and I are going
to work out a schedule so that we all get some time off.”

“So you can travel?”

She nodded, wondering how he felt about that.

She didn’t have to wonder for very long, as he grinned and said, “Good.”

“Good? You didn’t look too happy when I told the TV producer about my travel plans,” she said, calling him on his less-than-enthusiastic
reaction.

He nodded. “I reacted without thinking. It took me a little while to remind myself that we’re both rational
adults. We might have other plans, but we understand compromise. You probably weren’t thrilled I went back to work.”

She nearly groaned her confession, embarrassed about it. “No…”

He sighed. “I should have talked to you about it.”

“Why?” she asked. “Until now neither of us has been willing to admit our feelings.”

“Maybe we’re not as rational as I thought,” he acknowledged with a wry chuckle. “But still, I should have told you about it
and explained that I’m not going to work that much. I’ll still have time to travel with you. If you want me…”

She stood up and walked over to the counter where she’d set the manila folder with her purse.

“Millie?” he used her name as a question, his voice deep with concern that maybe she didn’t want him.

But Millie turned back to the table. Instead of taking her seat, she settled on his lap and handed the tickets to him. “I
want you,” she told him.

He pressed a quick kiss to her lips before reaching for the tickets. Then he laughed.

“What? Too presumptuous?” she asked.

He wiggled his knees. “Sitting on my lap? I’m all for that.”

“And the cruise?”

He wriggled again on the chair, then reached into his back pocket where he pulled out tickets and handed them to Millie. Now
she laughed. “You didn’t.”

“Great minds think alike,” he said.

“Think we can get time off work for two cruises?”

“I think that, together, we can do whatever we want.” She nodded her agreement. “Yes, together, we can.” Charles stood up,
then set her on her feet. “Time for dessert,” he said.

“Yes,” Millie agreed. “But we can skip the pie.” And she pulled his head down for another kiss.

Epilogue