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“Me either,” Oliver said.

“Next year,” Wendy said. “Next year we’ll have a grown-up Christmas.”

“Why? What will be different about next year?” Charlie asked, grinning.

“It’s private,” Wendy quickly said, winking at Oliver. “You’ll be the first to know when it happens.”

“Oh, okay. One of those,” he said, laughing, a fork in his hand. “A woman with a secret.”

She just smiled, sensing he’d try to manipulate her into giving him an answer, and glad Oliver wasn’t like that. Oliver accepted her answers and moved on.

Winking at him, the idea that Charlie was going to be her father-in-law gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling. Charlie and his girlfriend were fun to be with. On Christmas Eve, Lila had sought Wendy out to introduce herself. Sharing her story, it sounded like she didn’t have to work, but spent her free time volunteering at the safari park nearby. They liked playing cards and board games, which she loved.

Then she asked Wendy about her life. “It sounds like you’re willing to leave Michigan to be with Oliver. I’m so glad.”

“Why is that?” Wendy asked, not meaning for it to sound so challenging. “I mean, why are you glad.”

“He’s such a nice kid. Charlie has been worried about the traumatic brain injury. I’m glad he has a nurse by his side, just in case.”

That silenced Wendy. What were the chances that in time the damage from the head injuries would surface? Did she love him enough to take care of him if he became disabled? Sipping coffee while the men chatted, she had a chance to observe Oliver closely. She’d spent weeks getting to know him and had slept with him. So far, so good.

But what if he developed CTE, or chronic traumatic encephalopathy, caused from repeated head injuries? He said he’d had them before pro football, in high school and college. Did she love him enough to care for him through that?

“How’s your head this morning?” she asked, interrupting him.

Rubbing his forehead, he nodded. “I have a headache, but I’m sure it’s sinus. You see the flowers in bloom around here, right? I have terrible pollen allergies.”

“Oh, okay. And it feels like sinus?”

“It does.”

“Well, let’s take care of that. I have an antihistamine in my suitcase.”

She got up to retrieve it and their conversation resumed. On the way to the bedroom, she knew the answer. She’d love him for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.

Chapter 7

The rain was worse at the beach. Joanne and Todd were well covered with slickers and Wellingtons, trudging the sand, looking for seashells.

“Oh, look! I can’t believe this,” Todd shouted. “Red beach glass!”

She ran to him to see. It was a tiny piece, less than half an inch, but it was red and it was glass.

“Quick, make a wish,” she said, grabbing his hands.

He shut his eyes and moved his lips, making a silent wish. He was so innocent, it melted her heart. Opening his eyes, he grinned at her, giving her a quick peck on the lips.

“What’d you wish?”

“You know it will spoil it if I tell you.”

“Oh jeez, now I’ll wonder.”

“Yes, you will,” he said, rain dripping off his face. “Have you had enough of this? Let’s run down to the coffee shop and dry off before we head home.”

They held hands, making small talk about the latest play they were doing. Todd was taking over the production end, which was a steady-paying job, because he wanted to get married.

“So I had some news,” Joanne said. “About Ollie.”

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