deal with it. I’ve got too much going on up north.”
“That’s the best part. I can do all the grunt work,” Kate said. “You don’t give me enough to do, so if I have this on my plate, there’s a good chance I won’t be nosing into everything else.”
“How good of a chance?” About all she had left to do was alphabetize the pantry and tick off the cooks.
“Very good. And I really think this could work, Matt. You have a lot of summer people who will drive all the way to Traverse City for live music. Keep them in town, and your business will jump.”
Matt just shook his head. She was right. “Write me up a proposal.”
Kate came around the desk and stood close to him. She riffled through some papers, then held up a neatly bound document. “Already done.”
He opened the report and paged through a market study, cosketdocut analysis, and financial projections, complete with pie charts.
“You’re good, Kate.
Kate smiled wickedly. “You don’t know the half of it.”
But he wanted to.
EIGHTEEN
Kate didn’t want to jinx things, but she was on a roll. Over a week had passed since Matt had given her permission to schedule music events, and she’d gotten next summer booked. And because she was in overachiever mode, she’d also finished all the promo materials. Okay, maybe she wasn’t so much in overachiever mode as fill- every-waking-hour-so-she-couldn’t-think-of-Matt mode, but no matter. The results were the same. Kate rose and double-checked the events calendar she’d hung on the office wall.
Even better, her house was nearly repaired. The contractor had been very cooperative. He said he needed the work, so she could pay after the holidays. All it needed was some fresh paint, some new furniture, and a head-to- toe cleaning.
She stood hands on hip, pleased. “You’re golden,” she told herself.
Matt had scheduled a mandatory 10:30 staff meeting this morning. For no reason other than pride, she’d wanted to be done with these projects before then.
Kate’s cell phone rang. She went back to the desk, picked it up, and did a double-take at the name on the caller ID: Barb Appleton. She and her mom didn’t talk frequently. It wasn’t that her mom didn’t love her, or that she didn’t love her mom. They were just in different places in life. But today, Kate felt happy that her mom was calling.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hello, Kate. You’re a tough one to reach.”
“I answered on the third ring,” she said.
“I didn’t mean now, dear. I’ve been leaving messages on the phone at The Nutshell for days. Where have you been?”
Kate searched for an explanation. Her mom liked her kids in one piece.
“I… I’ve been having some work done out there and staying with friends until it’s complete,” Kate said.
“What sort of work?”
“I’ve been getting the exterior doors re-keyed,” she replied. Which wasn’t a total lie, because she still planned to. Eventually.
“Why would you do that? We’ve owned that cottage for decades and kept it unlocked for just as long. There’s no place safer than Keene’s Harbor.”
Kate withheld comment.
“How is the house looking?”
“Just fine. Why?”
“Your father and I are feeling a little nostalgic. I know we usually stay in Naples October through May, but we were thinking that popping up to Keene’s Harbor for a family Thanksgiving would be wonderful. Just like the old days.”
“But we always had Thanksgiving at the country club,” Kate said. “You know, the Thanksgiving Day Parade in Detroit, then turkey with your choice of stuffing and sides, overlooking the putting green.”
“We must have had it at The Nutshell once,” Mom said.
“No. Never.”
“Then it’s definitely time. Your father and I aren’t getting any younger, you know, Kate.”
Man, she hated it when her mother played the aging card.
“Neither am I, Mom.”
“True. So this year, let’s get you, Chip, Bunny, and all the family up to the cottage for an old-fashioned meal.”
A couple weeks ago, Kate might have been horrified. The insecurity and jealousy that had infected her marriage to Richard had just sort of bled all over her other relationships, including the one with her family. But the truth was that, before Richard, holidays like Thanksgiving had always been a really big deal to her.
Suddenly, Kate realized that she missed her mom. She missed her dad. She missed her brother and sister. They were her family and they loved her and she loved them. She might as well get on the turkey train. “That sounds fun. Can’t wait.”
“Good, dear. Now see if you can find a chef to cook for us. I just want to relax with the family. If you can’t, we might have to come up with another option. Perhaps a restaurant up that way?”
“I’ll start looking.”
“Keep me abreast of the plans.”
“Sure thing. Give my love to Dad.”
Kate hung up and went facedown on the desk. She’d forgotten about Matt. How was she going to explain that they were living together to her parents? Matt entered the room and settled into a guest chair. “What’s up?”
Little wrinkle lines were forming on Kate’s forehead. “My whole family is coming to The Nutshell for Thanksgiving.”
“And?”
Kate bit her lower lip. “I’ve got two problems. One is of the big variety. The other could be huge.”
“Lay it on me.”
Kate sighed. “You know how Charlie Brown had a Thanksgiving party for Peppermint Patty, excent t=”0ept that he could only make popcorn and toast?”
Matt laughed. “Yeah.”
“Well, I can only make toast.”
Matt got out of his chair and hugged her close. It was nice-friendly and loving. Like she had known him all her life. “No worries. I’ll help. It’ll be fun. Was that the big or huge problem?”
In Matt’s arms, her problems seemed small. “My parents are a little…” She paused. “Conservative.”
Matt smiled. “No problem. We can bond over our shared opposition to the hippie menace.”
“If they find out I’m living with a guy, they’ll be horrified. They won’t understand that cosmic forces are to blame.”
Matt shook his head. “Isn’t this Barb the table dancer we’re talking about?”
“Barb, the
Matt’s eyebrows perked up. He held her tighter. “That can be arranged, too. And, on the plus side, no one will care about only having toast for Thanksgiving.”
“I’m serious.”
Matt brushed her hair away from her face. “So we have a minor inconvenience to deal with.”
Kate looked at him for a long while. “And, it’s Thanksgiving. And, if I can’t find your saboteur by then, my house belongs to you. So it really isn’t a ‘we’ problem. It’s my problem.”
“I see.”
