Kate looked up from the skillet of potatoes. “You’re going to scare him away.”
“I won’t say anything to embarrass you,” Maureen said. “I promise.”
“You can’t help yourself.”
Maureen took off her coat and hung it on the back of a chair on the other side of the counter. Kate poured her a glass of white wine.
“What’re you having?”
“Rack of lamb.” She’d seared the rack in shallot butter and deglazed the pan with veal stock. Now she was making potatoes Anna, the skillet sizzling on the gas burner. “He’s just coming over for dinner and I feel guilty about it.”
“What’re you going to do, wear a black dress for the rest of your life? We’re not living in a Sicilian village. There’s no time limit I’m aware of. You wait till you’re ready. I think it’s great.”
“It’s not a date,” Kate said. “Nothing’s going on.”
“Whatever you say,” Maureen said grinning.
Jack arrived and Luke came down from his bedroom and Kate introduced everyone. They ate in the breakfast room. Kate sat across the table from Luke and Maureen, half in the bag, sat across from Jack, firing questions at him while he ate his lamb and potatoes and sipped his cabernet.
Maureen said, “Ever been married?”
“No,” Jack said. He picked up a lamb chop and took a bite.
Maureen said, “Ever been close?”
Jack said, “No.” And shook his head.
Maureen said, “You have a girlfriend?”
“Not at the moment,” Jack said.
Maureen said, “You’re not gay, are you?”
Jack looked at Kate.
Kate said, “Maureen, stop interrogating the poor guy.”
Maureen pointed at Jack with her fork. “What’re you doing back in Michigan?”
“Visiting my sister,” Jack said.
Maureen said, “What do you do?”
“Sell real estate,” Jack said.
“Maureen does, too,” Kate said. “Tell her about your deal.”
“It’s a manufactured home development in Tucson, Arizona,” Jack said.
“I know a lot of people in the Tucson area,” Maureen said. “Maybe I can send some investors your way. What’s it called?”
“Eldorado Estates,” Jack said. “I’ll give you a copy of the prospectus.”
“And you live in Tucson, I hear,” Maureen said. “What part?”
“Rancho Mirage,” Jack said.
“Where’s that?” Kate said.
“Foothills of the Catalinas,” Maureen said. “Very trendy.” She sipped her wine. “I go to Canyon Ranch every year,” she said, sounding like a snob. “I saw Michael Douglas one time and Richard Gere. I like it for about three days. They don’t serve drinks-you can’t get one-and there’s no nightlife.”
“That’s the idea,” Kate said. “You go there to get healthy.”
“I bring a bottle of Skyy,” Maureen said, “have a couple in my room before dinner and try to meet an eligible guy and bring him back for a nightcap.”
Luke sat with them, eating in silence, Jack asking him questions whenever Maureen stopped talking, which wasn’t often.
Jack said, “Luke, you a tennis player like your mom?”
“Uh-huh.”
Kate said, “He has a big forehand and a two-handed backhand. Hits deep heavy topspin and has a hundred- and-ten-mile-an-hour serve.” She looked across the table at Luke. “He’s taking some time off, aren’t you, honey?”
Luke didn’t react. He seemed uncomfortable. He ate fast and asked if he could be excused. Took his plate to the sink and walked out of the kitchen.
Maureen got up, too, said she had an early appointment, told Jack it was nice meeting him and Kate walked her to the door.
Then they were alone.
Jack cleared the table and Kate did the dishes. She was at the sink, her back to him, rinsing out the wineglasses when he came up behind her, put his arms around her waist and kissed her neck.
She squirmed, wiggling out of his grasp, wet hands pushing him away. “Easy.”
“I’ve wanted to do that since I saw you at the mall.”
“Where’ve I heard that before?” She wondered how many times he’d used that line or a variation of it.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jack said.
“That’s what you said the morning after we met-at the boat races.”
“How do you remember that?”
“I thought it was a good line,” Kate said, “like it was out of a movie.”
She showed him the house. They walked through the living room to the sun porch. The backyard lights were on, illuminating the pool and tennis court. It was dark out, wind blowing, kicking up leaves.
Jack said, “That Maureen’s a trip.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
“What’s her story?”
“How much time do you have?”
She showed him the paneled den, her favorite room and the reason she wanted to buy the house.
“This place is unbelievable,” Jack said.
“Not bad for a girl who grew up on Spam, huh?”
“Luke’s a nice kid,” Jack said. “I feel like I’ve met him before. He ever spend time in Tucson?”
“You’re not going to start talking about fate and kismet again, are you?”
He moved closer to her and she stepped away. “I’ve got something else I want to show you.” She took him to the billiard room, thinking it would be easier being with him if they had something to do.
Jack said, “Wow. Look at that.”
There was a 1922 Brunswick Arcade pool table in the center of the room. It was made out of mahogany with six massive legs and weighed 2,760 pounds.
Kate said, “You want to play?”
Jack said, “It’s been a while.”
Kate said, “Are you hustling me?”
There was a cue rack on the wall. He went over and picked out a stick. He chalked the tip and grinned at her. “If I win, you let me buy you dinner tomorrow night.”
She said, “What if I win?”
“You buy me dinner.”
They played straight pool. Jack racked the balls and broke with a thunderous blast that put a couple in. He lined up a straight two-footer and banged it in the corner pocket. He kissed the second one in the middle pocket. She could see a swagger in his step now as he moved around the table. He sank six before he missed.
“You’re not bad,” Kate said.
Jack glanced at her and said, “What do you hear from Marina? Wasn’t that the girl from Guatemala?”
“I get a Christmas card every year,” Kate said. “She lives in Jersey with her husband, Benigno, who now owns the landscape company he used to work for.”
Kate used the bridge and banked one into the corner pocket.
Jack said, “The American dream, huh?”
Kate was lining up her next shot. She glanced at Jack across the table. “You making fun of him?”
