Page 1 of The Friendship Pact

CHAPTER ONE

Kate Davis pulled to the curb outside her aunt’s bright blue bungalow in St. Paul, Minnesota. The neighbor kids wore sweatshirts and boots and tossed a football on the lightly snow-covered ground. Kate stepped out of her vehicle into the bright sunshine and slight breeze. She tucked her dark hair behind her ear and grabbed her overnight bag and the pet carrier containing her two felines.

The homes in this older neighborhood were well taken care of, the landscaping impeccable. A large harvest wreath adorned the front door, and sturdy clay pots holding yellow and orange mums flanked the front stoop.

Helen, her mom’s younger sister by four years, rushed down the front steps, her arms flung wide. “Happy Thanksgiving!”

Kate stepped into her warm embrace. At only five foot five, she towered over her aunt’s petite frame. “Happy Thanksgiving,” she responded. Since she’d seen her, Aunt Helen’s hair had turned white, but she still resembled Kate’s mom, who insisted on dying her hair blond. The sisters both stayed fit and looked ten years younger than they were.

“I’m so glad you decided to spend the holiday with me. Now, let me look at you.” Her aunt stepped back, scanning her from head to toe. “You’ve lost weight. You look fabulous.”

“Thank you, I feel good.”

Rubbing her hands together, Helen said, “Let’s get you all inside. What can I grab?”

Kate handed her the overnight bag, and Helen bent down and peered into the pet carrier and cooed, “Hello, sweeties. Let’s get you two out of the cold.”

Thankful her aunt loved cats, Kate followed her into the house and glanced around the entry. Her aunt and uncle had chosen not to have children, so framed photo collages of Kate growing up adorned the walls. Warm, salty, and fruity scents filled the air.

“Dinner smells wonderful,” Kate said.

“Let’s get you settled, and then we’ll eat.”

With full stomachs after a fabulous Thanksgiving dinner, they packaged the leftovers and washed the dishes. They refilled their wineglasses and relaxed on the platinum-colored couch.

Aunt Helen handed her a crocheted throw blanket. “There’s snow forecasted overnight. You may want to hold off leaving until after breakfast.”

Kate rested her head against the cushion, snuggling deep under the warm blanket. “I saw that too. I’m excited to see my new place but I’ll wait. The roads should be fine if the snow wraps up this evening.”

She glanced around the room and breathed in the hearty smell she remembered from her childhood of wood burning in the fireplace. The fire crackled and sparked, adding to the warmth of the room. Nyla and Lucy, Kate’s felines, slept in their bed close to the fire.

“Catch me up, Kate. How are you really doing after your breakup?” Helen asked.

Kate knew they’d get around to Jacques eventually. She’d been pretty tight-lipped about their breakup because the minute her seven-year relationship was over, her mother tried to set her up with a friend’s newly divorced son.

“You know, I’m doing well . . . Better now that I have a plan for my life. One that doesn’t include a man.” Sitting straighter, Kate finished her pinot grigio and placed the empty glass on the table. “When Jacques secured a reservation at one of the most renowned restaurants in Chicago, and after being together for seven years, I thought he was going to propose.” She stared into her wineglass and shrugged. “Instead, it was more of a celebratory dinner for him.”

Helen quirked a brow. “How so?”

“He was offered a head chef position in France. Foolishly, I thought I’d join him. Instead, he said he’d miss me.”

Helen’s eyes widened in shock. “What did you do?”

“I stood, wished him well, and left. Then I cried for two days straight.”

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. That must have been heartbreaking. Nobody deserves such a brush-off, especially when you were together for so long.”

Helen finger-combed her hair to drape over one shoulder. A telltale sign Kate’s mother also used before saying something that might not be received well.

“I’m a big believer in things happening for a reason, and although that may seem cliché and nobody is ready to hear it right after a breakup, I’m happy you didn’t waste a minute longer with him.” Helen looked down at her glass and swirled the remaining liquid. “Besides, I never did like him.”

“You didn’t? Why?”

“Oh, he was an excellent chef, I’ll give him that, but he never put you first. You need someone who will cherish you, who wants to grow old with you . . . a soul mate.”

Kate rested back against the cushion. “I don’t know if I believe everyone has a soul mate out there waiting for them.”

Helen reached forward and patted her leg. “I found mine, and you’ll find yours too. I know it.”