“Oh, my, yes. Little girls love kittens, don’t they?”
Annie wondered if life would ever stop surprising her. Or how a quiet woman like Rose would contribute to reminding Annie that sometimes it was important to “set” oneself right, in order to let new seeds of life take root and grow.
She didn’t know how John would feel about it, but Annie knew that it was her time, once again, to do that.
After Rose left, Annie checked the text.
DON’T WORRY ABOUT THE MARRIAGE LICENSE, John had typed. IHAVE CONNECTIONS IN HIGH PLACES.
And Annie laughed to think that her go-by-the-book husband-to-be could still surprise her, too.
* * *
“So you’re sure the license will be okay?” she asked John later that night after he returned to Chappy and they had a quiet supper. Restless had come with him; they’d both agreed that the poor little dog hadn’t had enough attention in the past days.
“We can pick it up—and sign it—first thing in the morning. Judd filed it under the wire today, so we’ll still be seven days out.” Judd, yet another good friend of John, worked in the town clerk’s office.
“That’s great,” she said, “but I sure am exhausted.”
Sitting on the love seat, John propped his elbows on his thighs and tented his fingers. Restless was nestled on the braided rug, his chin on top of John’s feet.
“Yeah,” John said, letting out a long breath of air. “I’m exhausted, too. It’s so damn hard to stay objective and be a good cop when you really should recuse yourself. But we never have enough help. Not in season or off.”
Leaning her head back on the love seat, Annie looked up at the ceiling. Her stitches still hurt, but her head felt so much better. Especially now that John had given her the perfect opening to bring up the topic she’d been dodging. “Here’s an arbitrary question,” she said. “What would you do if you won the lottery?”
He laughed. “Seriously?”
“Sure. I don’t buy tickets, and I don’t know if you do, but what would you do if you won big?”
Scratching his stubble as his father did when he was thinking, John paused, then said, “That’s a no-brainer. I’d fund the department so we’d have more money for year-round cops and more special-duty ones in summer so none of us would have to work ridiculously long shifts. Ever again.”
His answer did not surprise her. He would not build a mega-mansion out in Katama near South Beach. He would not want to leave the island for a tropical paradise, where he could hang out in a hammock and drink beer all day. The man Annie planned to marry did not hesitate to say that he’d help others, because that was who he was.
“Are you suggesting I should start buying tickets?” he asked.
She smiled, reached over, and took his hand. “No. I was just confirming that the man I’m going to marry has a heart.”
He rolled his eyes the way Lucy often did. The genetics in that family were often hilarious examples of apples not falling far from the old Yankee tree.
“Speaking of getting married,” Annie added, lightly stroking his fingers, “you were right about our big day being a week from today.”
“Yup. And you were right to remember about the license, ’cuz I forgot.”
She laughed, trying to maintain a happy mood. “I keep thinking how much I love you. And about how much I want to marry you.”
“But . . . ?” he asked, as if sensing hesitancy in her tone.
“But is it really the right time? I’m just starting to get to know Abigail. I want to know her better; I want to have a good relationship with her before I launch into being her stepmother. I want to get back to my writing. I haven’t done any since the book tour finished in October. I miss it, and I hope that Trish hasn’t given up on me. And, as for our living arrangements . . . well . . .”
John laughed. “Yeah, we haven’t spent much time figuring that out, have we?”
She raised his hand and kissed his palm. “Every time I try to do it in my head, I get confused. Where will we live? How will I write? Who will manage the Inn day to day? I usually give up and find something else to worry about.” Then she outlined each of his fingers, slowly, thoughtfully. “I also want to tell you about something that happened with my editor. But I can’t right now, because I really am exhausted and, frankly, I’m tired of thinking.”
He leaned back and put his arm around her. “You think we should postpone the wedding?”
“Only if it would be okay with you.”
He scratched his chin again. “Are you thinking maybe we should do it in the spring? When there’s less drama?”
