The Husband She Can't Forget

Carly chewed thoughtfully, “Because after his mother died, she was the biggest positive female influence in his life—”

“Until he met you.”

Carly gave a small shrug. “We both know that didn’t turn out to be very positive for him.”

“Not your fault,” Lisa insisted.

Carly knew that wasn’t true, but she didn’t want to talk about it anymore. She was grateful when Lisa’s attention was snagged by someone else.

Before Carly had finished eating, Lisa and a couple of people left the table and others took their places. Carly looked up from her salad to see Luke, along with Tom and Frances, settling into chairs opposite her. Both men were looking anxiously at Frances, whose face had gone pale.

CHAPTER TWO (#ucc99e727-5c38-55d1-bea2-9a06ee719293)

“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, Frannie?” Tom fussed at his wife as he handed her a glass of ice water. “When was the last time you had something to drink or eat?”

“Right now,” she answered, dutifully gulping some water and then digging into the food Luke placed in front of her.

Once Tom and Luke were sure she was eating, they glanced around the table. Luke gave a start when his gaze met Carly’s.

“Oh, hi.” He inclined his head. “Didn’t see you here.”

“I wouldn’t miss this,” Carly answered. Since she’d had a minute to steel herself, she was able to give them a genuine smile. “It’s the real start of summer and the food—” she moved her fork in a circular motion “—is incredible.”

Frances looked from Carly to Luke then smiled. “Thank you, dear. I have to say what we’ve prepared has only been enhanced by your fresh produce. Your suggestion of grilled zucchini spiced with red pepper was inspired. Everyone seems to love it.”

“I know my people. Around here, spicy always sells. Having alternative zucchini recipes helps me sell the overabundance, which has only increased with all the rain we’ve been having. And then there’s the fact that my squash plants don’t know a thing about birth control.”

Frances and Tom laughed and Luke’s eyes crinkled at the corners when he grinned at her.

This isn’t too bad, Carly thought. She could do this, no problem. She could sit and chat with this lovely couple and her own ex-husband, make small talk while stuffing her face. She took a bite of the cauliflower salad, savoring the tang of the Parmesan cheese.

There were two other people at the table, Roland and Becky Hall, whom she had known all her life. They were certainly aware of her long-ago marriage to Luke, but they wouldn’t bring it up.

Becky looked at Frances and said, “Thank you so much for inviting us. We haven’t been able to come in previous years, but we’re so glad we could make it this time. I love getting to know people. Where are you and your husband from originally, and how did you meet?”

“She’s a born romantic,” Roland contributed. “She loves this kind of stuff.”

“We’re from a small town about fifty miles from Houston,” Tom answered. “So we’re transplanted Texans.”

“We always knew each other growing up,” Frances added. “Although Tom is far, far older than I am.”

“Two years!” he objected, drawing a laugh from everyone.

Frances put down her fork and reached over to take her husband’s hand. “He’d been asking me out for a year...”

“And she always turned me down. I think I scared her.” Tom shook his head as if he was still mystified by that.

“You definitely scared me. You were so serious. Until prom. I thought that would be a safe date, not too awkward, lots of other people around. I could hide out in the girls’ restroom with my friends if need be... And then the staircase happened.”

“The staircase?” Luke, who obviously hadn’t heard this story before, looked from his aunt to his uncle.

“The prom was held at a beautiful ballroom a couple of towns over from ours. It had a big, sweeping staircase and all of us had to give our tickets to someone at the top of the stairs, have our picture taken together, or with our friends, and then go down to the ballroom.”

Frances paused for effect and sipped her water, her eyes laughing over the rim.

“And?” Carly prompted when she couldn’t stand the suspense. “What happened?”

“I was wearing my first pair of real high heels.”

Carly and Becky groaned.

“For days, I had practiced walking and dancing in those four-inch nightmares. I paid my little brother to be my dance partner. But it never occurred to me to practice going up and down stairs. After we got our picture taken, we turned to start down the steps.” Frances winced. “My heel caught on the carpet, my foot came right out of the shoe and I pitched forward.” Frances made tumbling motions with her hands. “I somersaulted all the way to the bottom without stopping—”

“While I rushed along trying to catch her, but she was moving too fast.”

The breathless audience stared as Luke asked, “Aunt Frances, were you hurt?”

“Only my pride,” she answered on a sigh. “I lay there staring at the ceiling, trying to get my breath back, and this man—” she gave Tom a loving look “—this man whipped a twenty-dollar bill out of his wallet and said, ‘You win the bet, Frances. I didn’t think you’d have the nerve to prove you’re head over heels for me.’”

Everyone broke into laughter and applause.

“I was the belle of the ball,” she concluded. “And I was so sore the next few days I could hardly move. I learned my lesson, though. I haven’t worn four-inch heels since.”

“Best twenty bucks I ever spent,” Tom said smugly. “We got married six years later.” He leaned over and kissed his wife, who happily kissed him back.

“I’m only glad I wasn’t the cause of you taking that tumble,” he went on. “I was so awkward and nervous, I’m surprised it wasn’t my feet you tripped over. You never would have gone out with me again.”

“Absolutely true,” Frances said.

Carly’s gaze flew to Luke. He was looking at his relatives with pride and humor, but he must have felt her attention on him because he turned his eyes to meet hers. A shadow passed over his features and he twisted away.

She and Luke certainly didn’t have a story like that, full of drama, but also sweetness. Theirs had consisted of overwhelming attraction, pain and recriminations.

Suddenly desperate to get away, Carly began gathering her silverware and stacking it on top of her two empty plates. “If you’ll excuse me, everyone, I know Frances’s chocolate cake is over on the dessert table and it’s eager to be my new best friend. I think I’ll take a piece into a dark corner and show it some appreciation.”

Becky smiled as she asked, “Cake, too? Sounds wonderful. I wish I could eat like that.”

“You might have to work as hard as Carly does,” Luke said. “She owns Joslin Gardens and does most of the work herself.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Becky said, giving a small wave of her hand as if to shoo away her previous error. “I knew that. And you refinish furniture, too, right? I’ve been looking for a small table and a couple of chairs for my breakfast nook. The one I’ve got is too big and too modern-looking for my house. I like retro.”

Even though she wanted to get away, Carly couldn’t resist an opportunity to talk about her other business. “As a matter of fact, I do. I recently completed a rebuild of a little gateleg table with two chairs. I painted it pale yellow. It looks like something straight out of the 1950s.”

“Sounds perfect,” Becky said. “When can I see it?”

They arranged a time for her to come out to Joslin Gardens and Carly was at last able to stand and begin making her escape, but she stopped when Tom asked, “You’re going to open a shop in town, right? To sell your furniture and other pieces?”

“That’s right, although I haven’t settled on a space yet. I’m calling it Upcycle because everything will be reclaimed and repurposed.”