The truth was, he missed being married, especially to Dana Sue, who’d stolen his heart when they were fifteen and hadn’t let loose of it yet. Why he hadn’t had the sense to realize that a couple of years back, before he’d done something so totally stupid, was beyond him.
Thanks to his recent talks with Annie, he knew his ex-wife hadn’t found someone else. Of course, that didn’t mean she’d take him back. If he did return to Serenity, he was going to have his work cut out for him trying to win her over, but maybe two years was long enough for her to have cooled down just a little. She might not pull a shotgun on him on sight. At least he hoped not. He knew for a fact she could hit a tin can at fifty feet. If she aimed for him, she wouldn’t miss.
And even if she hit him, as long as she didn’t hit anything vital, so what? He had it coming. And, hell, he thought with a grin, what was life without a little excitement and risk from time to time? He just needed an excuse to get his foot in the door. If winning Dana Sue back was meant to be, he figured one would come along sooner or later.
At quitting time, he climbed down off the roof, grabbed a bottle of water and took a long swallow, then doused himself with the rest of it.
Thanksgiving, he decided, with the first real anticipation he’d felt in two long years. If fate hadn’t handed him the right excuse by then, he was heading home and taking his chances.
* * *
Dana Sue and Maddie took their iced tea—unsweetened for Dana Sue, which was practically a crime in these parts—onto the shaded brick patio out back of The Corner Spa. At eight in the morning the air was still a reasonably pleasant seventy-five, but the humidity and bright sun promised a scorcher by day’s end. It would be another couple of months before that humidity loosened its grip on South Carolina, probably just in time for Thanksgiving.
Inside, a half dozen women were already working out, and a few more were in the café, having Dana Sue’s no-fat, high-fiber raisin bran muffins with bowls of fresh fruit.
“Where’s Helen?” Dana Sue asked when she and Maddie were settled.
“Taking a shower upstairs,” Maddie said. “She’s been here working out since before the doors opened.”
Dana Sue regarded her friend with disbelief. “Helen? Our Helen?”
“She had another appointment with Doc Marshall yesterday,” Maddie explained. “He read her the riot act about her blood pressure again. It’s way too high for a woman who’s only forty-one. He reminded her she was supposed to cut down on stress and get more exercise. So, for today at least, she’s determined to stick to her workout regimen.”
“Want to lay odds on how long it lasts this time?” Dana Sue said. “She was totally committed a couple of months ago, but then her caseload got heavy and she was back to working fourteen-hour days. There were a few weeks there when we didn’t even see her.”
“I know,” Maddie said. “She’s a type A personality through and through. I’m not sure she can change. I’ve talked to her till I’m blue in the face, but she certainly isn’t listening to me.”
“Who won’t listen to you?” Helen asked, grabbing a chair and sitting.
“You, as a matter of fact,” Maddie said, without the slightest trace of guilt about talking behind Helen’s back.
“I’ve been in the gym for the last hour, haven’t I?” she grumbled, obviously guessing the topic. “What more do you want?”
“We want you to take better care of yourself,” Dana Sue said gently. “Not for one day or a week, but from here on out.”
Helen frowned. “Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?”
“Yes,” Dana Sue readily admitted. It was so much easier to tackle Helen’s health issues than her own or Annie’s.
“I’m not discussing this,” Helen said. “Doc Marshall gave me a piece of his mind. I took it to heart. End of story.”
Dana Sue exchanged a look with Maddie, but neither of them said a word. If they pushed any harder, Helen would only dig in her heels and start avoiding them. It would be just the excuse she needed to stay away from the gym entirely, even if she did have a major financial stake in the place.
Helen nodded in satisfaction at their silence. “Thank you. Now then, on a far more pleasant subject, I looked over the books last night,” she said. “Memberships are up.”
“Ten percent over last month,” Maddie confirmed. “Spa treatments have nearly doubled. And the café business has tripled. We’re running well ahead of the projections in our business plan.”
Dana Sue regarded her with surprise. “Really? Are we getting more café business at breakfast or lunch?”
“All day long,” Maddie said. “We have one group of women who come in three times a week at four o’clock to work out, then have tea. They’ve been begging me to ask you to come up with a low-calorie, low-fat scone for them. They all went to London together a couple of years ago and got hooked on afternoon tea. They keep telling me what a civilized tradition it is to have a late-afternoon snack with pleasant company and conversation.”
“Now there’s an idea,” Helen said thoughtfully. “Late afternoon is probably dead a lot of the time, right?”
“So far, and it’s worse now that school’s started again,” Maddie agreed.
“I suppose some women are picking up kids from school,” Helen suggested. “Others are at work or starting dinner preparations. An afternoon-workout-and-tea promotion might encourage a few more women who think a gym’s not
