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Dear Matt,
Two years ago, I married you for better or worse—for love—forever. Recently, you’ve become someone I don’t know—someone I glimpse between business trips. Your job requires travel. I understand that, but you’re home less and less, and when you’re here, you’re so uncommunicative, I barely recognize the man I married.
Today, I learned why. I saw an old friend at a birthday party, who introduced me to her neighbor, Luisa Taylor. I asked if we were related. Imagine my surprise when she showed me her wedding picture with you.
Who’s your legal wife, and who’s your common-law wife?
Milly
I reread the letter, not believing my eyes. Did he leave Grandma or divorce her? I glanced at the Return to Sender handstamp. Or did he ignore her like he disregarded her letter? Which woman was his common-law wife?
****
Was it something I said? As Luke finished putting away the dry goods, he replayed their conversation. Why did she take off like a shot?
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. “Forget something, Maeve?”
“Is that any way to welcome an old friend?”
“Bea?” He about turned at her voice. “What’re you doing here?”
“Again, I ask, is that any way to greet an old friend?” Standing tall, chest thrust out, she gave him a shrewd smile. “Good to see you alone for a change.”
“Maeve just left.” He sniffed as he closed the cupboard door.
“So I gather.” Her voice like plush velvet, she gave him a knowing grin. “Mind if I sit?”
“Why?” He leaned against the counter.
“Might make this call less awkward.” Her smile hardened. Then instead of sitting, she rested her elbows on the breakfast bar, arching her back to show off her ample bosom, and lightly trailed her fingertips along the polished granite surface.
“We’ve got nothing to say.” He turned his back as he put the canned goods in the cupboard. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m busy.”
“Then how about a friendly glass of wine?”
“What do you want?” He about faced.
“Nothing.” She tossed her hair, permeating the apartment with its strong cinnamon smell. “Other than to catch up with an old friend.” She caught his gaze. “Now, how about that drink before I leave…?”
Would a drink get rid of her? Breathing shallowly, he debated. “One quick glass, then I have to get back to work.”
“What’re you working on?” Moving toward him, she led with her chest.
“The patio bar—”
“I thought you didn’t have the financing.” Her eyes narrowed.
Shrugging, he poured two taster-sized glasses of wine and handed her one. “Cheers.”
Her hand brushed his as she took the mini glass. “Oh, come on. You can do better than that…” She grinned as she held up her glass. “Okay, I’ll start. Time to uncork and unwind.”
Rolling his eyes, he sniffed at her persistence and half-heartedly clinked glasses.
“Don’t be a party-pooper, Luke. Drink with me.” She smiled coquettishly over the rim of her glass. Then, her eyes dancing as she met his gaze, she raised her glass and clinked his. “Let’s try this again. Take life one sip at a time.”
His lips barely touched the merlot, but he toasted.
She wore a satisfied, twisted smile.
