Cathy froze and glared at her, willing her to shut up.

  Pam’s smile widened. “Cathy had the coolest dad. We all loved hanging out at her house and swimming in her Doughboy pool.”

  Jamie’s eyes flashed to Cathy. She tried keeping her face a rigid mask. That was another lifetime ago. Her dad, who everyone thought was the most wonderful dad ever, was not the same man behind closed doors. Cathy shuddered. To the whole town he was the great guy, the people’s attorney who always helped the underdog. At home, some of his inflicted bruises could be covered by clothing and makeup. But the ones on the inside were hushed and hidden. Her mother recycled the whiskey bottles out of sight.

  “Where is your dad now, Auntie Cathy?”

  Amber’s eyes looked so innocent. How could Cathy tell a four-year-old that his final abandonment was drinking himself to death at 45? That day the earth opened and took her dad, her heart, and her life with it.

  But Pam always thought Cathy’s dad was so great. The way she’d looked at him was heartbreaking. Pam’s own dad had picked up and left them when she was only five years old. As much as Cathy needed a friend to confide secrets to, someone on her side, Pam would never have believed what Cathy’s father was really like. It was lonely having a secret and no one to tell it to. She was the good girl at school. Her mother’s crutch at home. A support to her poor friend Pam. But there was no one there for her.

  Pam put her arm around Cathy’s shoulder and squeezed. “Cathy’s dad is in heaven now. Sometimes the good die young.”

  “Oh,” Amber said. “Like our old dog, Lady?”

  “Yes, honey,” Jamie said. “Just like Lady.”

  The room became quiet. Cathy pushed the searing pain back to the dark recesses inside her, and forced a smile. She’d become a master at denial.

  “Who wants some ice cream?” Cathy asked. There was nothing ice cream couldn’t fix. That was what her dad said when he was in his “it’s over, let’s put it behind us” mode.

  “Me, I do!” Amber ran ahead of Cathy to the kitchen, with her mother close on her heels.

  Cathy felt a warm hand on her shoulder.

  “Are you okay?” Jamie asked.

  The sympathy in his eyes made her want to scream, “Don’t be. Don’t make me feel!”

  The Lucerne chocolate ice cream, bought as a special treat, was cool and soothing. It worked its momentary magic. Cathy took her dish and retreated to the privacy of the wingback chair in her room. The luscious treat was gone all too soon, along with any comfort it offered. She placed the dish on the side table and leaned back, staring at the ceiling, willing her racing mind to stop.

  Once stirred up, she couldn’t stop the memories. Men were so good at compartmentalizing their feelings. First was her father, who saw himself through the eyes of everyone but his family. Then her ex-husband, Todd, who was a pro at ignoring the nagging voices that interfered with him doing whatever he wanted to do, no matter who got hurt. Cathy wondered if Pam’s dad was like that: I want out of here, so good-bye wife, good-bye child, I’m gone.

  Cathy sought out neat little cubicles in her memory to place these thoughts in permanent storage. The one for her dad was nicely decorated but mostly inaccessible. The one for her baby girl, who never saw past four months’ gestation, was pink and pretty but covered with a no trespassing sign. She never wanted to go there again. The one for Todd was a dark pool where dreams went to drown.

  Giggles echoed into Cathy’s bedroom as Jamie, Pam, and Amber walked down the hall toward the bedrooms. Their visit had caused a fissure that rumbled her caves and caverns. She wanted them to leave; that was the lie she told herself.

  Jamie. He broke her heart in a whole new way…with kindness and longing. The hole in her heart that she tried so hard to keep filled with work, food, friends, sleep, or anything, was preferable to this feeling that was tearing her open.

  She imagined herself a lone wolf, wandering the wilderness, searching, then raising her head and releasing a piercing howl that filled the entire universe.

  Wolves mated for life. Where was he? Where was the echo to her howl, her mate? Was there no other lone wolf, searching the hills for her? Was she the only one destined to cry and never be heard? Never be answered? In her mind, she howled to the heavens, and mercifully, Jamie’s warm laugh echoed back and filled her heart.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  It was a good thing that the afternoon slowed at the shop. With Jamie leaving early for his interview and Brian not back yet, it could have been hectic. Cathy called Jill to confirm she was up for a visit later that afternoon. Cathy decided to stop home briefly, to see if there was any news on Jamie’s interview and pick a bouquet of herbs and flowers for Jill.

  At home, Pam was in the kitchen making a salad. Jamie was still at the interview. Cathy held up a bag of fresh-baked lemon cookies. Amber saw them and came running. Her golden pigtails flapped like she would take off.

  “No cookies until after dinner,” Pam yelled.

  “When is Daddy getting home? I’m hungry,” Amber said, rubbing her tummy.

  Pam dried her hands and came into the living room. “Amber didn’t get her nap today, so she’s a little grumpy. How was your day, Cathy?”

  For a moment Cathy was taken back. No one ever asked her that. Libby and Snowy just purred, if they bothered getting up at all.

  “Thanks for asking,” Cathy said. “It was busy, but Jamie is a great help.”

  Pam grinned. “Isn’t he just the best?” she said, baring a full row of teeth with her smile. “We don’t know what we’d do without him. Right, Amber?”

  Cathy couldn’t believe Pam would bring up the possibility of Jamie not being with them. What kind of image was that to put in a four–year-old’s mind?

  Amber’s face looked worried. “Daddy’s coming home soon. Right, Mommy?”

  Pam hugged Amber. “Of course, of course, little one.”

  Cathy laid her purse and some papers on the counter. She pulled out a pitcher of ice tea and a bottle of lemonade to make an Arnold Palmer.

  Pam laid two glasses on the counter. “I think I’ll have one too.”

  “And what about you, Amber?” Cathy asked. “Would you like some lemonade?”

  Amber nodded. “Can you make it a pink one?”

  Pam shrugged. “A pink one?”

  Cathy winked at Amber. “We mash a few strawberries in and presto, it’s pink!”

  “Well, you two girls do have your secrets, don’t you?”

  Cathy and Amber giggled.

  “Come on, Amber, let’s sit down with that juice.”

  They all took a seat at the table and sipped their cool drinks.

  “Are you home for the night?” Pam asked, helping Amber into a kitchen chair.

  “No, I’m heading over to Jill’s house to see how she’s feeling.”

  “Well, let us know, because Jamie may not be available much longer. And we’ll have to find our own house soon.”

  Cathy took a deep breath. “Did he get the job?”

  “We’re not sure.”

  Cathy exhaled.

  “But Jamie should be home any minute. He called after he left Sonoma Country Inn, and he sounded excited.”

  Cathy’s stomach dropped at the thought of him getting the job. Jill was still bedridden, and there was no one to help. No one would greet her at the door, and there would be no wonderful dinners waiting when she got home. But self-pity was not her style. She learned long ago where that trail led. Cathy forced a smile. “Hope it’s good news.”

  ****

  Jill’s oldest daughter greeted her at the door and led the way to the bedroom. Dan was handy. He’d converted the thousand-square-foot, two-bedroom house into a three-bedroom by remodeling the basement into a master suite.

  Looking pale after her appendectomy, Jill lounged in a red-and-white-checkered robe on the queen size bed. A fan blew cool air from the window, ruffling the orange and brown hanging lamp at the side of the bed.

  Dan, hair askew, wore a wrinkled shirt and was tripping over himself to bring Jill whatever she needed. He had already placed the flowers in a vase by Jill’s bed.

  The dark circles under Jill’s eyes worried Cathy, but Jill was sharp and probing as always.

  Jill waved Cathy over. “What’s under the foil? What did you bring for me?” she asked, propping herself against the brass headboard.

  “Have you been a good patient?” Cathy held the plate just out of her reach. “Dan, has she stayed in bed?”

  He nodded and attempted a smile, but he looked exhausted.

  “I brought enough for both of you.” Cathy lifted the foil to reveal the cookies Jamie baked.

  Jill picked up one and held it to her nose. “Lemon, honey, and something else.” She took a bite and closed her eyes. “Lavender. Yum. Who made these?” she said, handing one to Dan.

  Cathy knew she couldn’t take credit because baking was not her strong suit. With salads and sandwiches she could hold her own.

  “Jamie, my houseguest, baked them. He’s a real help right now. So you don’t have to worry. Chill.”

  “Like I have a choice.” Jill popped another cookie in her mouth and sighed. “Lie in bed, eat, and watch stupid daytime TV for another week. I’ll go crazy.”

  Cathy could relate. “What did the doctor tell you to do?”

  Dan held up a list and started reading. “First twelve hours, stay in bed and watch for fever.” He glared at Jill. “Most patients need two to three weeks of rest.”

  Jill sat up straight in bed. “He did say some people get better fast, after only a week.”

  Cathy patted her on the shoulder. “We’ll see. Now lie down. I want you better!”

  Jill always worked so hard that she exhausted Cathy just watching her. As an employee, she could not be replaced. Jamie was a real lifesaver, but Jill was the heart and soul of the business.

  “Dan, don’t you have something to do somewhere in the house?” Jill waved him out and patted the bed beside her for Cathy to sit. “Something bothering you?”

  “No, not really. I’m just worried about you getting well.”

  Jill stared at Cathy like the darn clairvoyant she was. Nothing got past Jill. “Tell me about Jamie.”

  Cathy’s eyes darted around the room. She rose. “It feels a bit warm in here. Do you want me to turn up the fan?”

  “Sit down, Cathy.”

  She sat. Sometimes she wondered just who the boss was around here.

  “What, are you planning to oust me for this new chef who can bake cookies out of a dream?” Jill said.

  “No, of course not.”

  Tears threatened. A few days with company, no, with Jamie, and she was falling apart. Cathy wasn’t a crier. She wouldn’t start now. What was she supposed to say? Well, you see, my best friend and her family are visiting and I’m helping them out and, oh, by the way, I’m captivated by her husband. She didn’t think that was something Jill needed to think about now in her condition. And Cathy didn’t want Jill to think less of her as a person either.

  “Jill, no one could ever replace you.”

  Satisfaction spread across Jill’s face. “The doctor said I might be able to work part-time in a week or two.”

  “Although,” Cathy paused, “this baker is pretty cute.”

  Jill’s eyes penetrated into Cathy. “I knew there was something you were hiding from me. How cute? Tell me.”

  “You lay back down, and I’ll return soon with something yummy and tell you more then.”

  Jill sank back into the propped pillows. Usually, deterring Jill was not so easy. She must feel lousy.

  “Okay, but tomorrow I want a full description.”

  “Fine,” Cathy said heading out the door. “Rest.”

  ****

  When Cathy got home, she found a note from Pam saying she and Amber had strolled down to the river for a quick swim. Cathy wanted to fall into her bed. She would hibernate like a bear in its cave before everyone descended on the house again. Even the cats were nowhere to be seen, so she shut the door and embraced slumber.

  In the distance she heard a car hitting the gravel in her driveway. Half awake, she realized it was probably Jamie. Muffled sounds came from the living room. Amber screeched the cry she always did when Jamie lifted her to the ceiling.

  Maybe Cathy could sleep through dinner in this nice, safe den.

  As she almost drifted back to sleep, a light knock sounded at her door.

  “Cathy, do you want some dinner? It’s ready,” Pam said.

  Pam’s voice brought Cathy back to her parents’ house years ago. Pam was always over, especially around dinnertime. Pam’s mom never felt well enough to cook, and Pam got sick of cereal.

  “Your mom cooks so good,” Pam would say with pleading eyes. Then Cathy invited her home with her from school. Sometimes Cathy got sick of having her there all the time and would lock herself in her room. And here she was, as an adult locking herself in her room, in her own house.

  “Not now,” Cathy said loud enough for Pam to hear. She covered her ears and willed herself back to sleep. She didn’t want to think anymore today. Her mind raced with what if. What if Jamie got that job and they left tomorrow? What if he didn’t and she had to keep seeing him? Watching him work right next to her? Wanting…wanting… to touch his cheek, mess his hair, and feel his arms around her.

  Laughter filtered in from the kitchen, and Cathy’s stomach clenched. Did Jamie get the job? She wanted to pull the covers over her head and will herself to think of something else. But she knew it was futile. She wasn’t a teenager. She would get up and ask.

  The three of them were curled up on her couch watching TV. Libby and Snowy snuggled on Pam’s lap, and for a moment Cathy felt jealous. All eyes went to her.

  “You’re up! Come sit with us,” Pam said.

  Everyone moved in closer to make room. Cathy sat next to Pam, who rested her head on Cathy’s shoulder. Very cozy.

  “How did the interview go?” Cathy finally asked.

  Pam interrupted Jamie’s response. “Great! They loved him. We’ll know more tomorrow.”

  “Fantastic,” Cathy said, a little too enthusiastically. She closed her eyes and let the white noise of the Alka-Seltzer, plop, plop, fizz, fizz TV commercial lull her. All of a sudden, the theme from The Love Boat blasted out all cheery and sweet. Was this what they were watching? She looked at Jamie.

  He grinned. “The girls like this show.”

  Pam sang along about adventure and romance. Amber giggled. Pam probably liked Fantasy Island, too, which wasn’t Cathy’s kind of show. She almost never turned the set on anyway. If her mom hadn’t left it behind, she wouldn’t even own one.

  “Do you like this show?” Pam asked.

  “It’s fine. Nice scenery,” Cathy said.

  “Jamie always watches with us. He used to like The French Chef, with Julia Child, but it went off the air last year.” Pam patted Jamie on the back. “His idol is Alice Waters in San Francisco. I bet you wish she’d do a show.”

  “I’d certainly watch that!” he said.

  “Me too,” Cathy seconded. “She’s a master at gourmet cooking.”

  Jamie gave Cathy a thumbs up.

  Cathy watched the big white cruise ship on the screen as it pulled into port in sunny Mexico. She would love to do some traveling. Todd promised her a honeymoon to Hawaii. Like most of his other promises, Cathy never saw the island’s sunny shores. Her head rested back onto the couch as the show continued. Snowy jumped on her lap and started purring. It took so little for the cat to be content.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Barely awake, Cathy walked into the kitchen for her first cup of morning coffee. Pam was clamoring away about Jamie possibly getting the job as assistant executive chef at Sonoma Country Inn. She stood at the kitchen counter, looking over the menu he’d brought back and reading every delectable offering.

  “Duck a l’orange, lobster bisque, pan-seared trout with lemon zest. And Black Forest cake for dessert.” She spun on her heel, holding the menu in the air. “Look at the ratings! I bet celebrities eat here. Can you imagine making a soufflé for Farrah Fawcett or even Robert Redford? Make sure you get an autograph for me!”

  Cathy imagined Jamie in a black chef uniform that set off his blond highlights, sharpening knives, master of a large kitchen. Pam and Amber would live in a ranch-style home with a golden dog in the yard.

  But that only happened in the movies, Cathy reminded herself. She needed to stop this. She was just fine before they got here and would be fine again when they left.

  “Breakfast,” Jamie announced, placing a stack of blueberry pancakes on the table. Warm butter, heated syrup, and fresh-squeezed orange juice awaited them.

  “A celebratory breakfast,” Pam said.

  “Does that mean he already has the job?” Cathy asked, gulping some juice.

  “Not yet,” Jamie said, sitting down to join us. “The manager said I’d know by the end of today. I gave him the number at your shop. I hope that’s okay.”

  Cathy stuffed down another bit of the fattening meal. After they left, it would be back to granola. “Of course.”

  Jamie stared at her. “Cat, I might have to start next week.”

  “Cat,” Pam rolled out the word. “You never used to let anyone call you that.”

  When Jamie called her Cat, it made her smile. She shook off the comment as she drowned her pancakes in more syrup. “Don’t worry about helping me. Jill may be back by the time you start, and Brian will be back today or tomorrow.”

  “Perhaps I could help prep in the morning until Jill is on her feet? If I get the job, I would be doing dinner service only to start.”

  “We’ll see.” Cathy carried her plate to the kitchen.

  Jamie followed behind with his. “I’m ready to head to work when you are,” he said.

  The day progressed at the café and no call came for Jamie. His shoulders drooped, and Cathy was torn between sympathy and relief. She kept her distance in the kitchen to allow him some space.

  He chopped celery furiously. Then she heard him mutter, “Damn.”