She clinks her ice cubes. “Club soda.” She slides a menu across the bar to Presley. “Wanna share some appetizers?”
“As long as we can get the ones with the most carbs.”
When she laughs out loud, Katherine’s face is transformed into a striking figure who reminds Presley of Meredith Grey, America’s most beloved fictional doctor on Grey’s Anatomy.
The bartender, Pete, a young guy just out of college, arrives to take their orders. Accustomed to seeing Presley with Everett, Pete asks, “Where’s your insignificant other tonight?”
“He had to go out of town unexpectedly,” she says in a deadpan tone.
Pete takes the hint and doesn’t press for specifics. “What can I get you ladies?”
Presley orders for them. “We’re going to split a few appetizers. We’ll have the nachos, buffalo chicken wings, and a quesadilla. And a club soda for me.”
Katherine pushes her glass toward him. “I’d like a refill, please.” He takes her glass and walks away. “I’d rather be drowning my sorrows, Presley. But since I can’t drink, stuffing my face with comfort food will have to do.”
“Why can’t you drink?” Presley bites her tongue. “I’m sorry. I’m being nosy.”
“Not at all. I’d like to get it off my chest, if you can stand listening to my sad story.”
Presley grins. “I’ll tell you mine, if you tell me yours.”
“Deal.” Katherine shifts in her seat to face Presley, with a smile not reaching her hazel eyes. "My husband and I are trying to start a family, but so far, I’ve been unable to conceive. I want to schedule an appointment with a fertility specialist, but Dean, my husband, says we haven’t been trying long enough.”
Pete returns with their drinks, and Presley takes a sip of club soda. “How long have you been trying?”
“A year, give or take a month or two. I admit things have been stressful with Dean starting a new job in the college’s admissions office and me getting my business up and running. We probably should wait a little longer. I’m just impatient. I’m not getting any younger, and I’d like to have more than one child.”
Me too, Presley thinks. A vision of Everett holding a newborn baby comes to mind. Carla’s baby. Will Presley ever find the right guy to settle down with? “How old are you, Katherine?”
“Thirty-five next month. And you?”
“I turned thirty in June,” Presley says.
Pete brings their food, and they load up their plates with helpings from each of the appetizers.
Presley’s eyes roll back in her head as she savors a bite of quesadilla. “This is so good.”
Katherine dips a buffalo wing in blue cheese dressing and gnaws it to the bone. “This will give me heartburn for sure.”
Presley points a nacho at Katherine. “You know, Katherine, sometimes you have to wait a couple of months to see the doctor of your choice. Why not schedule an appointment with the fertility specialist for January? You can decide later if you want to keep it.”
Katherine sits straight up in her chair. “I never thought of that. That’s exactly what I’ll do. Dean will surely be on board with seeing a specialist by January.”
Presley stuffs the nacho in her mouth. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll get pregnant before then.”
“Maybe,” Katherine says, but she doesn’t sound very hopeful. “Start talking. I want to hear your sad tale. Does it have anything to do with your insignificant other?”
While they finish gorging themselves, Presley tells Katherine about both Everett and Lucy. By the time she’s finished talking, she feels nauseous from eating too much and depleted from unburdening herself of her problems.
Katherine gives her hand a squeeze. “Oh, honey. You’re handling the stress so well. I’d never have guessed you were going through so much. What’re you gonna do?”
“About Everett? There’s not much I can do. Our relationship is over. He made that clear when he left town without telling me. Even if I wanted to get in touch with him, I can’t call him, since he doesn’t have a cell phone. As for Lucy, I figure I’ll let that situation play itself out. I’ll know when to make my move.” Presley places her hands on the bar, fingers splayed. “In the meantime, I’m going to stay busy.”
“I’m sure you have plenty to occupy your time, but I would love some help decorating the inn for the holidays.”
Presley comes out of her chair a little. “I would absolutely love that. A fun project is just what I need.”
Katherine smiles. “Honestly, that’s a load off my mind. I’m not sure what Stella was thinking when she put me in charge. I’m great at poinsettias and greeneries, trees and wreaths. But I’m over my head when it comes to ornaments and trimmings.”
“Come on, Katherine. I don’t believe that.”
“It’s true.” Katherine wipes her mouth and tosses her napkin on her plate. “I’ve been talking to the people at a Christmas tree farm about an hour away. They’ll give us a discount if we buy more than one tree. I’m going to check out their offerings this weekend. Would you like to come with me?”
Presley grins. “Yes! Count me in! What’re you thinking in terms of how many trees you want to put up in the inn?”
“We need a Rockefeller Plaza-worthy tree for the center of the lounge with a combination of live and fake trees in other key rooms. I’m wondering if we can get away with having a white, musically themed tree in Billy’s Bar?”
“Themed trees are the bomb,” Presley says. “We could have a nature tree in the library and one with sports-related ornaments in the game room.”
“And a tree that glimmers and shimmers in the solarium. We can brainstorm on the way to the tree farm this weekend.”
When Katherine covers her mouth to stifle a yawn, Presley signals Pete for the check and they plunk down their credit cards. “I’m so glad I ran into
