The Red Hat Society's Domestic Goddess (9 page)

Mitchell nodded. “Okay, I’ll work on him. Save me some pie.”

“There’s a casserole in the oven, too,” Millie said as she stood.

“You’re leaving already?”

“Of course.” The truth was that she was still full from
lunch, and too nervous over the thought of teaching, to think about eating again.

“Mom, who is this Moelker guy?” Mitchell asked, his dark eyes softening with concern. “Is it serious?”

“It’s a joke, honey. There’s nothing going on between us. We’re neighbors. That’s all.”

Mitchell’s eyes narrowed as he studied her.

She couldn’t resist teasing him as she dished up a helping of the pie into a plastic container. “I love having a new stepmother.
You’d get used to a stepfath—”

“Mom!”

“I’m kidding,” she promised. After his recent divorce, Charles wasn’t likely to want to marry again anytime soon, if ever,
no matter his reason for joining the class. “I’m just bringing this to the community center where Theresa, Kim, and I are
working on lesson plans. I know you two won’t save me any.”

As she hoped, mention of the class distracted Mitchell. “You really signed me up for this thing?”

She nodded.

“It better work,” Mitchell said, as he headed down the stairs to convince his brother to attend the classes.

Millie watched his curly head disappear from view and silently agreed. It had better work. For him and Steven.

With Steven, she had a family to reunite. With Mitchell, she had a tiara to retire.

S
o where do we start?” Millie asked Kim as they waited for Theresa to join them in the community center kitchen.

“Start what?”

“To teach me how to teach a class.” But she had a feeling Kim was starting something else. Through narrowed eyes, Millie studied
her friend. Kim’s face was flushed, nearly as pink as the fuchsia tracksuit she wore. Her brown eyes sparkled, and her breath
came fast and hard. If Millie didn’t know better…

“So just how close are you getting to your new neighbor?” she teased, as she settled onto a stool at the island. She pushed
up the sleeves of her green knit shirt and propped her elbows on the granite counter, her jean-clad knees bumping against
the white cupboard below it.

Kim grabbed a water bottle from the stainless steel fridge, twisting off the cap and taking a swig before answering. “A wall
away…”

“And he’s got you this flustered.” Too bad he wasn’t able to attend their class. Millie would love to meet the guy who could
fluster Kim, especially since Theresa swore he was really good looking.

Kim shook her head. “It’s not him. It’s the cat—”

“Your cat?”

“His
cat. I just dropped it on his doorstep, rang the bell and ran like—”

“Kim!” Theresa exclaimed as she joined them in the kitchen. “You didn’t!”

“I felt it was the neighborly thing to do, giving him a welcome gift.” She laughed. “I left it in your basket, Millie, with
a bow on top.”

Now Millie knew why she’d borrowed the picnic basket, and she wondered if she’d get it back. She might need it… someday… for
a picnic. Once she retired her tiara, she’d have time for stuff like that.

“I thought he worked second shift,” Millie said.

Kim nodded. “But he has tonight off.”

“So you know his schedule already?” Millie asked, trying to control a smile.

Kim’s face flushed with bright color, totally matching her tracksuit now. “No… he mentioned it this afternoon… when he caught
me coming back from a run. He just got done with a long shift and has the night off.”

“So he’s probably sleeping, and you left the cat in a basket. What if he didn’t hear the bell?” Theresa asked, obviously concerned
about the cat.

Millie wasn’t so sure she wanted the basket back anymore.

“Then he’ll hear the cat,” Kim said. “That thing loves to howl.”

Theresa laughed. “Boy, Kim, I guess it has been a long time since you’ve flirted with a man. You’ve forgotten how it’s done.”

“I’m not flirting,” Kim protested. “I’m getting rid of that fleabag.” But her hand trembled so much she could barely screw
the cap back on her water bottle.

Millie took it from her and completed the task. “Oh, no,” she said, catching herself. “I can’t stop myself from doing this.”

“From doing everything for everybody else. From taking care of everybody else,” Theresa said, adding a sigh of her own.

Millie nodded. “Steven doesn’t even make his bed. Heck, I don’t know how he gets to his bed. He just drops his clothes wherever
he takes them off. Stairs. Family room floor. And I keep picking up after him.”

She might have enjoyed his company the last couple of days if he hadn’t been so miserable, but she didn’t enjoy the additional
work his living with her had brought her.

“I think I need to attend a how-not-to-mother-your-children-for-the-rest-of-your-life class.”

“Add husband to that title and sign me up,” Theresa agreed with a heavy sigh.

“A lot of stinky socks today?” Kim asked.

Theresa shook her head. “I didn’t even look. No, it was a
Gunsmoke
marathon today. The early shows, the black and white ones. That was all he did, watch them and snooze, wouldn’t even let
me open the blinds in the family room. Can we start the class
this
week?”

“We have to get the curriculum figured out first.” Kim, ever the teacher, reminded them of the reason they’d arranged to meet.
She undoubtedly wanted to distract them from her new neighbor; it was obvious he distracted her enough.

“We
have to get the most important student enrolled,” Millie reminded them.

“You
couldn’t manipulate him?” Kim asked, obviously shocked. “Stubborn, huh? Wonder where he got that from…”

Millie ignored the twinkling in her friend’s eyes. “Must have been his father.”

“Men
are the stubborn ones. They’re born stubborn,” Theresa backed up. “Kim’s an anomaly.”

“Hey,” Kim said, lifting her hands, palms up. “Why are you bringing me into this?”

“Why not?” Theresa quipped, her mouth quirking into a challenging smile.

“Ladies,” Millie said. She was used to playing peacemaker between the two strong women.

“Do
you
want to bring me into this?” Kim asked. “I could talk to Steven for you and try to convince him to join the class.”

Millie considered the possibility a minute, amusement tickling her. “You might actually be able to intimidate him into doing
it.”

“Fearsome Kim,” Theresa agreed.

“Dirty Harriet,” Millie shared her son’s nickname for her friend.

Theresa’s laughter sputtered out with the sip of Sprite she’d just taken. “It’s perfect.”

“Please,” Kim said, passing a strip of paper towel to Theresa. “Clean yourself up. You’re such a mess.” Then she laughed as
she pointed out the pop stains on Theresa’s cream-colored silk blouse.

Theresa stuck out her tongue but grabbed the paper towel. “So are you going to sic Kim and Harry on him?” she asked Millie,
as she dabbed at the damp spots on the silk.

“I already sicced his brother on him. But I’m not so sure that was a good—” Before she could finish the thought, the theme
song from “Thoroughly Modern Millie” pealed out from her purse, which sat on the counter. She reached for it and fumbled inside
for her cell phone. “Hello?”

“Mom.”

“Steven?” Her heart did a little hopeful flip.

“Sign me up.”

She held in the victory shout burning the back of her throat. “For what, dear?”

“Cute. You know for what, this class you and your friends are starting.”

She was tempted to ask if he meant Kim’s aerobics class, especially after all Mitchell’s teasing about his weight, but she
didn’t want to push her luck—or her stubborn son—any further than he’d already been pushed. “Thanks, Steven. You won’t regret
this.”

“But Mitchell might. I’m going to kick his butt,” Steven promised.

She smiled and teased, “So you’re going to turn into a regular Martha Stewart.”

“Don’t push it,” he advised. “So where’d you put that casserole you made? We don’t know where to look.”

“It’s being kept warm in the oven,” she said. After she hung up, she turned to her friends. “I hope he knows how to open it.
Maybe that’ll be our first lesson.”

“So I take it we have another student?” Theresa asked. She and Kim were waiting expectantly.

“It’s on,” Millie said, expelling a huge sigh of relief. “Thanks to sibling rivalry.”

“Lucky for you,” Kim said.

“Well, if Mitchell had failed, I would have sicced Brigitte on him. I doubt he could have said no to her.”

“Wally can never say no to his little girls either,” Theresa said with a smile.

Millie wanted to point out that he never said no to
her
either. But Theresa wasn’t willing to see Wally’s good points right now. So Millie focused on their sign-up
sheet instead. “So that’s Mitchell, Steven, and all the guys our Red Hat chapterettes are going to coerce into joining.”

Theresa patted Millie’s shoulder. “You did a great job pitching the course at lunch today.”

Millie shrugged. “The pitch had nothing to do with it. Our chapterettes would help us no matter what.” The chapter was just
as supportive as Theresa and Kim. She’d been relieved to learn that she wasn’t the only mother who’d raised domestically helpless
sons.

Millie returned her attention to the list of students on the clipboard on the counter in front of her. With satisfaction,
she wrote down Steven’s name.

“And don’t forget Wally,” Theresa added. “And Mr. Lindstrom.”

“He’s on here.” Millie checked off the list, her pen shaking as it hovered above the name at the top, the first one who’d
signed up.

“Mr. Lindstrom?” Kim sighed. “I’ll have to wear Teflon pants.”

“You forgot someone,” Theresa reminded her.

“Who’s that?” Millie asked, playing dumb by widening her eyes in feigned innocence.

“You’ve forgotten all about Charles Moelker and his stunning blue eyes?” Theresa teased.

Millie regretted sharing too much with her friends. She never should have confessed her infatuation with blue-eyed men a few
months ago during Movie Night, with
The Thomas Crown Affair
playing.

Kim blew out a sigh full of pity. “They do say the memory is the first thing to go…”

“The back, thanks to your aerobics class,” Millie grumbled as she shifted on the stool where she sat, wincing and hoping fervently
that her friends would drop the subject of Charles’s eyes. “My memory is just fine.
I
remember we need to figure out how we’re teaching this class.”

Millie glanced down at the list again, the names swimming before her blurring vision. She hadn’t counted on so many students.
She pressed a hand against her fluttering heart, trying to settle her nerves.

She’d been anxious at the thought of standing up in front of her sons and friends and attempting to teach them, but they would
understand and support her if she stammered and stuttered and made a complete fool of herself. Even Charles Moelker had seen
her do that before.

But now there were strangers attending the class, more people who could watch her fall flat on her face.

What had she been thinking?

“You’re teaching. We’re going to just be there for support,” Theresa reminded her.
Not helping at all.
“After all,
you
are the domestic goddess.”

Maybe if she found a tiara to wear to class, she might get up the nerve to open her mouth to give instructions. As it was
right now, she had no confidence that she’d be able to pull this off… even with her friends’ help.

Chapter Six

“The phrase ‘
domestic
cat’ is an oxymoron.”

—
George F. Will

K
im tightly clutched her keys and the small canister of pepper spray attached to them, as she passed under the flickering street
lamp and started up the sidewalk toward her condo. Not that she was afraid of walking alone at night. But she believed in
being prepared… for anything. Thus the pepper spray. Unless she wanted to scare someone. That was when she brought out Harry.

She wasn’t prepared for the shift of shadows near her door and the man stepping out of the darkness. She just barely smothered
the squeak rising in her throat as her heart raced. With a shaking hand, she lifted the pepper spray, but then she recognized
him and realized that she would probably never be prepared for George Fowler.

Even with her porch light shining on him, he was still in shadow, wearing a black T-shirt and jeans. His eyes, so dark, glittered
in the faint light, as did the silver
strands of his hair. Instead of settling with recognition, Kim’s heart pounded harder.

George lifted his arms above his head. “Don’t shoot.”

“Cute,” she said. And he was.

But she was so
beyond
interested in cute. When she was young and stupid, she had almost married cute. Twice. But she’d come to her senses in time
to avoid making huge mistakes. Really handsome men were spoiled, expecting all of a woman’s time and attention. Kim would
never
lose herself in a man like that. After two narrow escapes, she couldn’t be tempted… not even by George.