Excerpt from Maybe This Time

Book #2 of the Port Simms Series

Chapter One

     January third and a Friday to boot, Rose Shafer woke up with a smile on her face. Today was her twenty-sixth birthday! She wondered what Peter would get her this year. They’d been married almost twenty months, with more downs than ups, but Peter made up for that by paying for shopping sprees and trips to spas wherever she chose to visit. Last year’s birthday present had been amazing—a herringbone gold-chain necklace with a sparkling diamond front-and-center that rivaled her four-carat engagement ring. The delicate gold wedding band was pretty, too.
     No matter what, he always took care of her. She no longer worried about how to pay the bills. An added benefit of marrying an older man. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. But Peter had told her she no longer needed to work, icing on the cake of their relationship.
     Physically, he wasn’t great in bed and not the best at expressing his emotions. And lately, he’d been gone more than usual, either putting in grueling hours at the hospital or traveling to various medical conferences. A workaholic and respected surgeon, he’d committed his heart and soul to his work at the Port Simms Hospital. A top-notch hospital, the best in Port Simms.
     He’d put in an especially long stint yesterday, leaving before she’d opened her eyes and coming home sometime after she’d fallen asleep late last night. She’d waited up for him, as she had something exciting to say. He was likely still asleep. Knowing him, not for long.
     She turned over to wake him with a kiss, a rare occurrence due to the different hours they kept. But no, he was already up and out of bed.
     Self-doubt ate at her excitement. Sometimes, she had her doubts about what he did around work when he wasn’t home. She supposed it was natural to feel this way. After-all, she was wife number three. A handsome, respected surgeon who’d chosen her, and his charm and attention were irresistible. But now—No, she wasn’t going to think about that on her birthday. It was a sure bet he’d make up for the neglect big-time. Who knew what she’d get this year? She couldn’t wait to find out.
     Maybe he was still here, and she could share her exciting decision before he left. After donning her winter white cashmere robe and soft-soul sheepskin slippers and running a brush through her hair, she headed downstairs to greet him. The thick carpeting muffled any sound.
     Their twenty-year-old house had been decorated according to his tastes, with dark oil and watercolor paintings on white walls and lots of antique furniture. Not what she’d have chosen—she preferred warm colors and more modern, comfortable pieces—but this was his house and his money, and she’d grown used to it.
     She found him at the kitchen table, inserting a folded piece of paper into an envelope. He looked surprised to see her. “You’re up early. I was finishing a note and about to wake you. There’s something I need to tell you.”
     When was the last time he’d planned to wake her before he left? He must have quite a birthday surprise in store this year. She smiled. “Does what you’re going to say have anything to do with my birthday present? I have something to tell you, too. My announcement can keep.”
     “You first,” he said, skipping over the part about her birthday. He nodded at the envelope.
     She eyed it with excitement. Was he giving her a trip somewhere? “All right, here’s my news. I’ve decided to go back to Simms Bay Community College and finish my degree in interior design! Two in-person classes instead of online that are twice a week. There’s also an internship, but I don’t know much about that yet. Winter quarter starts this coming Monday.”
     She’d left the program when Peter had proposed some three years earlier. Totally wrapped up in him and their life together, she’d set her dreams aside and dropped out. Which was okay with him. She’d been wanting to go back for a while now, and had finally taken that step toward her long-held dream. “It’s time I finished, and I’m very excited.”
     No reaction from her husband. She tended to get a little chatty when she was revved up, and he’d always been one to drift off into his own thoughts. But this felt different. A funny feeling settled in the pit of her stomach, so strong, she wrapped her arms around her waist. “I expect what you want to say has something to do with my birthday, right?” she asked hopefully, bringing the subject back to her big day. He didn’t appear to have heard the question. What was up with that? “Did you hear me, Peter?”
     “I did. I’m leaving.”
     “Another medical conference? I was hoping we could celebrate together and maybe eat out tonight.”
     He shook his head. “You misunderstand. I’m leaving you and filing for a divorce.”
     “What?” The stunning news silenced her, although deep down, a part of her had known. The signs had been there for months. The longer and longer hours at the hospital, eating dinner there instead of with her, the extended time periods he spent away from home during medical conferences.
     But divorce? She stared mutely at him.
     “I’ve fallen in love,” he said.
     Ouch, ouch, ouch! She wasn’t the brightest bulb in the chandelier, but of his three wives she was definitely the smartest, although her IQ was nothing to write home about. And probably the best looking, if she could be un-modest for a moment. She knew this after checking the ex’s social media posts. Must be losing her edge. “Let me guess—she’s younger and prettier than me.”
     Peter shook his head. “He’s forty-one, the same age I am.”
     “He?”
     “That’s right. Avery is a surgical nurse at UCLA Santa Monica Medical Center. I’ve accepted a job there and will be moving right away.”
     Peter was gay? As numb as she was, it made sense and filled in a lot of blanks.
     None of her sexual experiences with previous partners had been wonderful, but sex with Peter had ranked at the bottom. An opinion he likely shared, as they hadn’t had any in almost a year. She’d begun to doubt herself as a lover, but his explanation proved it wasn’t her fault.
     Even so, the words, the sudden announcement, cut deep. Don’t cry. Do not, she counseled herself, but her traitorous eyes filled anyway. Peter was leaving her. She chewed on her thumbnail and she stifled the wail clogging her throat.
     He placed his hand, which was warm, over her icy one, and gave a sympathetic squeeze. “I’m sorry, Rose. It was never my plan to hurt you, but after forty-one years, I couldn’t live with myself pretending anymore. It feels good to be honest about who I really am.” He straightened his shoulders. “I’m a gay man, and proud of it.”
     In a weird way, she respected him for finally being honest, even if he was abandoning her. She wiped her eyes and sniffled. “Thank you for telling me.”
     “Of course. My attorney is drawing up the divorce papers now. You’ll be served sometime in the next few days.”
     So sudden. Despite her numbing shock, she recognized that she needed a lawyer of her own. Who knew how she’d pay for that. “Then what?”
     “If we both sign the papers and skip any contesting, I believe we can take care of business online. It’s the quickest and easiest option. Otherwise, we’ll have to go to court. That could take a while.”
     Take care of business? Such a cold thing to say, when he was ripping the safety net, the security she depended on, out from under her. She wondered who to contact for help. “Can I stay here for a while? You’re never at the house much anyway and won’t have to see me. I’ll sleep in the guest bedroom.”
     “Sleep wherever you want. I’m driving to Seattle and flying out tonight.” A three-hour drive from the house to SeaTac airport.
     “Tonight?” She didn’t want to be alone, especially today. Who could she find to celebrate with at this late date? Her sister was out of town, and Pressley and Ragan, her two besties, likely had Friday night plans lined up. “What about my birthday?” she asked, unable to stop herself.
     “I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”
     Gee, thanks. “Here’s an idea—since you don’t have a present for me, how about paying my college tuition,” she ventured, out of habit widening her eyes as she always did to get what she wanted. “I have to pay it right away.”
     “How much is it?”
     When she told him, he winced. “That’s a lot.” She widened her eyes again, and he gave in. “All right, consider that your present. It’d be nice if you stayed here until the house is ready to put on the market. I’ll take care of the utilities and throw in grocery money to help you get back on your feet. My contractor estimates he’ll finish in six to eight weeks. At that point, you’ll have to leave.”
     “Six to eight weeks? You must want quite a bit done. Wait—you’re selling the house?”
     “Renovations take time. And yes, as I don’t intend to come back here, getting rid of it makes sense.”
     Décor and dull paint colors aside, she loved the place. “What if I don’t want that?”
     “It’s in my name, Rose. You signed the prenup.”
     She’d stupidly never considered there would potentially be a day down the road when she’d have to be on her own and take care of herself again. “Yes, I know, but—” Questions crowded her mind, which remarkably seemed to be functioning. She couldn’t afford to live alone. Where would she go, and how would she find roommates?
     “There are no buts, Rose. My mind is made up. Kenny Martin, the contractor, will be here in a few hours to take any measurements he needs.”
     “Today? Do you know the man? Can you trust him?”
     “I think so. Blake recommended him.”
     “My brand new brother-in-law?” If Blake knew about the split-up, then so did Rose’s sister, Vi. After their wedding last weekend—Vi had learned she was pregnant, an unexpected surprise that seemed to delight them both, and more power to them. Rose looked forward to being an aunt but couldn’t imagine having a baby of her own, not after her childhood. It was a wonder Vi embraced the idea, but then, they felt differently about all kinds of things.
     Vi and Blake had put together a quick wedding and were currently away on their honeymoon. If they were aware of what Peter had pulled, it was a sure bet Gran and Malcom also knew. Both approaching eighty, they’d married about six months ago and were blissfully happy.
     None of them had said a word to Rose. Talk about humiliating. “Am I the only one in the family in the dark?”
     “No one knows about this, Rose, except you. I told Blake I wanted to make improvements on the house.”
     That was something, at least. Blake and her Gran’s new husband, Malcom, were savvy businessmen and might be able to recommend a competent lawyer who didn’t charge an arm and leg. Although she didn’t want to bother Blake. She’d talk to Malcom instead. “You know how little I make at Panache.” The boutique where she worked parttime once a week, just for something to do. “I don’t have much money saved up, and college tuition is due now.”
     “Yes, you’ve said that. I’ve already contacted and hired a moving company to pack up and deliver my things,” Peter went on. “I got up hours ago and put green stickers on the art and the rest of what I want in my new home. My clothes are already in boxes.”
     He’d done all that very quietly, the sneak. He was still talking.
     “They’ll be here next Friday. Phone numbers, et cetera are listed in the letter.” He handed her the envelope.
     After sneering at the thing, she stuffed it into a pocket in her robe. “Back to the contractor. Does he know what you want done?”
     “I showed him last Tuesday.”
     He’d actually taken time off from work? Not something he did often. “When I was getting my massage and lunching with Pressley and Ragan?” Her besties. They both worked fulltime but had taken a few hours off to get together that day.
     He nodded.
     “Why didn’t you tell me sooner, Peter?”
     “You’re right, I should’ve given you advance notice. Too late now.”
     Would a week or at least a few days have hurt? “What do I do with the things you leave behind?”
     “That’s up to you.”
     In other words, he expected her to take care of his castoffs. She wanted to lash out, but what was the point? In her whirling mind, an idea began to take shape, something she wasn’t sure she could pull off and wanted to mull over.
     “Did you ever love me at all?” she asked, hating the pathetic, pleading note in her voice. Hating the wimp she was and always had been.
     “I loved you as best I could.”
     The words did nothing to alter the bitter taste of betrayal in her mouth. “I have to admit, for the past year, with you pulling away from me even more than usual, I should’ve guessed. Are you coming back here again?”
     “I don’t plan to. I gave notice at the hospital two weeks ago.”
     Yet another piece of information hidden from her. How many more secrets did he have squirreled away? “This is a big deal, Peter, and completely unfair to spring it on me like this. I can’t quite wrap my arms around it.”
     And yet, she’d intuited that something unpleasant was coming. Too bad she’d refused to believe it. Note to self: trust that funny feeling inside. She could tell he was anxious to get out of there right away. Better share her idea now. “I’m supposed to get rid of the stuff you don’t want and direct the movers and keep an eye on the contractor, all while I’m in school? Those are big, time-consuming jobs. I should get something in return.”
     “You’ll be living here rent free with no household bills, and I’m covering your tuition. That’s enough.”
     “Not for me, it isn’t.” She’d never been this bold with him or anyone, had no clue where the courage had come from. Desperation, or maybe she’d picked it up from Vi. Her sister had always been outspoken. “I’ll be contacting my own lawyer about that.”
     Peter exhaled loudly. “Go ahead, hire an attorney if you want. If I’m going to pay you, I expect daily text updates in return.”
     “All right. And I expect my payment upfront, including the tuition.” They’d always had separate bank accounts, but she knew his balance was much higher than hers. “Check, cash, and/or Venmo are fine.” She thought a minute, then pretending she was Vi, named a hefty amount that popped into her head and included more than enough to keep her solvent for a while. The least he could do. Ha, Peter! Her boldness made her hands shake, and she hid them in the pockets of her robe.
     “That’s a lot of money. What if I don’t want to pay upfront?”
     Birthdays and lavish gifts aside, he kept a tight rein on day-to-day expenditures. Plus, she now knew what a dirty sneak he was. She had no doubt that if he didn’t pay upfront, he’d likely renege on the agreed-on amount and give her far less. “Then the deal’s off,” she said, astounded at her moxie. First time for everything. With nothing to lose, there was no reason not to stand firm. “Maybe I won’t stay here, and you’ll be in the dark.”
     Swearing under his breath, he negotiated with her, back and forth, but she stood her ground until he gave in. He gave her cash for half the amount, then Venmoed the balance while she peered over his shoulder and watched him do it.
     When he left, she sat down at the kitchen table and cried.

*

     Just shy of noon that same day, Kenny Martin pulled up to Dr. Shafer’s beautiful home. He would’ve come earlier but had wanted to finish up the bathroom he’d remodeled for an older couple who needed grab bars and a shower floor that wasn’t slippery. Work that entailed putting in a new floor, new tile and grouting, installing extra supports on the bars to anchor them, and a fresh coat of paint. A small job, but the pleased couple had paid well and promised to give him a positive review online.
     He needed both to help his two-year-old renovation business grow. Also to finance the materials needed for his own home improvements, which needed more time and attention than he could spare but was slowly shaping up. With this job, he stood to make a substantial amount.
     The doctor’s house was in an upscale area. Built some twenty years earlier, it fit perfectly with the neighborhood, but parts of it needed updating. The doctor wanted to sell it for top dollar and had decided to get the kitchen and bathrooms into tiptop shape, a boon for Kenny. He owed Blake Wanamaker for recommending him.
     After leaving the construction firm where he’d worked for several years, he’d started his own company. Blake had been one of his first customers. Completing this job would boost his growing reputation and bring in more business, meaning more money and expanding with a bigger team. The years of schooling and learning how to run his own company were finally paying off. Best of all, the doctor was paying him quite a bit.
     The drapes were drawn, but with the doctor gone that came as no surprise. Whistling, he grabbed a kit of measurement tools from the back of his pickup and headed up the front walk. The key was hidden right where the doctor had said, under a fake rock near the front steps. He set the toolkit down and unlocked the door.
     He heard the shriek as soon as he opened it. A woman, pale who looked like she’d been crying—nose red, eyes puffy, hair hanging limply to her shoulders, yet stunningly beautiful—came at him ominously clasping a brass figurine of some kind in her fist.
     Who the heck was she? Struck dumb, he set the kit down an help up both hands, palms up.
     “Who are you?” she said.
     “Name’s Kenny Martin.” He reached into his pocket and handed her a card. “Who are you?”
     “I’m Rose, Peter’s—” she broke off and sniffled. “For now, I’m Peter’s wife.”
     For now? The doctor had never mentioned her. “I didn’t expect anyone to be here. Dr. Shafer told me where to find the key.”
     “Then Peter didn’t tell you. Of course he didn’t, just assumed I’d roll with whatever he’d planned.” She glanced down at her bathrobe and frowned. “I meant to shower and dress, but it slipped my mind.”
     With the heavy-looking thing clutched in her hand and her face twisted in a mixture of fear and anger, he had no doubt she meant to bash him with it. Treading carefully, he eyed her warily. “You okay, ma’am?”
     “Don’t call me that—I’m way too young. My name is Rose, and no, I’m not okay, not even a little. Today is my twenty-sixth birthday, and guess what I got from Peter? The news that he’s filed for divorce and moving away to be with his new lover. Can you blame me for being upset?”
     Kenny heard that loud and clear. “I’ve been through a divorce myself.”
     “Is that why your eyes are sad?”
     They were? No one had ever mentioned that. Probably because he felt her pain and sympathized, and for good reason. In his nearly thirty years on the planet, he’d suffered through his share of sorrows and loss. The father who’d left him and his mom around his second birthday, the stepdad who’d moved on after eleven happy years, and his own ill-fated marriage. Not that he regretted the end of the marriage. Getting away from Crystal had been a giant relief.
     He mourned the loss of a long-held dream of sharing a life with someone, but had mistakenly chosen the wrong woman. “I don’t like thinking about the past.” He’d worked hard to put all that behind him. “Happy Birthday.”
     “Thanks. I wish I felt like celebrating, but I don’t. I haven’t talked to anyone, not even family, since Peter dropped his bomb hours ago.”
     Her eyes started to fill and he feared she’d cry, which scared him more than anything. Nothing like a weeping woman to make a man feel helpless. To his relief, she pulled herself together.
     “He said you were coming at some point today, but I didn’t expect you to unlock the door and let yourself in. I figured you’d at least knock or ring the doorbell.”
     “If I’d known you were here, I would’ve.”
     “Damn you, Peter, for keeping us both in the dark!” Her lip curled at nothing in particular and a bleakness darkened the space around her. Then, seeming to catch herself, she brightened a little. “It’s not your fault. Sorry I came at you with this brass angel. I’ve always hated the thing, but good news, it has a green sticker on the bottom. That means he’s keeping it. I hope his boyfriend doesn’t mind. As it turns out, Peter’s gay.”
     Each to his own. She’d shared a lot of info that was none of his business. Not wanting to waste time standing there while she ranted when he had measurements to do and supplies to order, Kenny cleared his throat. “I’m here to take measurements and had best get on it.”
     “Right. I’ll stay out of your way. What exactly are you planning to do?”
     Her husband hadn’t told her that, either? Between that and announcing he wanted a divorce on her birthday, he sounded like a selfish, class-A jerk. Hadn’t picked up on that the other day. “I’ve been hired to update the bathrooms and kitchen plus patch the walls and repaint them—improvements that will increase the sales value of the house.”
     “As I’ll be living here until it goes on the market, please leave at least one bathroom untouched until you finish the others. That way I’ll be able to shower, et cetera.”
     She’d be under foot the entire time? Kenny wasn’t at all happy about that.
     Almost as if she read his mind, she added, “Don’t worry, I won’t be around that much. I need to find a steady job and juggle it with college.”
     Stuff he’d been doing since he was old enough to have a paying job. “You’ll be busy, that’s for sure. What school?”
     “Port Simms Community College. I dropped out when Peter proposed. Dumb move,” she muttered. “I still need ten credits to get my degree in interior design.”
     “That’s a good school.” He’d gone there himself before getting a degree in construction management at the University of Washington.
     “I enjoyed it. I wish I’d finished my degree on time, but I will now. Go ahead and do whatever you’re here for. I’ll be in the den down the hall.”
     When he finished several hours later, she was still in the den with a blank look on her beautiful face and staring into space. Been there, done that. Grief and misery couldn’t be hurried, would take their own time. He poked his head in. “It’s a nice day. Why don’t I open the drapes to cheer things up?” She nodded and he pulled them open in the den. Much less dreary.
     “I’m leaving now,” he said. “I won’t be back till Monday, but after that I might come on an occasional Saturday.”
     “Good to know.” She resumed staring into space.
     “I have several questions,” he said.
     “Yes?”
     “Do you want me to return the key?” A pain, as she might be out when he needed to get in. But if she wanted that, okay.
     “Keep it.” She stood and put her hands in the pockets of her plush bathrobe. “I’d appreciate a heads-up text when you’re on the way over here. You gave me your card, but it’d be easier if we shared contact info on our phones.”
     Once they did that, he asked the second question. “Okay if we tackle the kitchen and one of the bathrooms first?”
     “At the same time?” She wrinkled her nose as if that was a bad idea.
     Currently, his permanent team consisted of himself, Augie, a guy he’d hired when he’d first opened the business, and a phone service to wield calls. He also had a list of skilled people he worked with and trusted to call on— tilers, plumbers, electricians and painting pros, all of which he’d need. Finishing as close as he could to eight weeks, max, was important, as Dr. Shafer had offered a bonus if he finished within that time frame. “That’s the plan. Unless it’s a problem.”
     “How long will it take to work on both?”
     He’d already estimated that. “Several weeks for the kitchen and about the same for the smaller bath upstairs. That will take less time than the master, but the powder room down here should be fairly quick. Of course, it could all change if we run into unforeseen problems.” Which was why he’d warned the doctor that doing everything he’d been hired for could take longer. “In all honesty, there’ll probably be some. Always are, but my crew works hard and we’ll do our best to finish on time.”
     “No worries from me if you don’t. I’m in no rush to leave. Any more questions?”
     He nodded. “Which upstairs bathroom do you want me to tackle first?”
     “All my stuff is in the master. Please start with the guest bath.”
     “The master bath last. Okay. What about the kitchen?”
     “A few weeks of renovation isn’t that long, so whenever. Now I have a question for you. Is Peter paying you directly? Because he didn’t say anything to me about it.”
     He nodded. The doctor had already written a check for a sizeable advance, with a bonus due if he finished in eight weeks or less. “Any other questions?”
     “What time are you planning to show up Monday?”
     “Around seven-thirty.”
     “In the morning? So early, but that works out for me. I’ll be leaving around eight for class. It doesn’t start till nine, but if for some reason I’m not able to pay online, I’ll need to do it in person. Between classes and an internship, I’ll be out pretty much every day. No idea why I’m telling you this when you’re not interested.”
     As long as she wasn’t crying, he didn’t mind. “Good to know your schedule. See you Monday.” He extended his arm to shake her hand, something he usually did upon first meeting a customer. She’d been too startled and upset to do it then.
     She hesitated as if she didn’t want to, then went for it. She had soft, delicate hands, fine-boned, and a direct gaze. Her eyes, no longer red and damp with tears, were an unusual pale green. The seductive, plump, bow-shaped upper lip was tough to ignore.
     Well, damn, he was attracted to her. Forget that. Nothing worse than getting tangled up with an unhappy woman and her big problems.
     They dropped hands at the same time and each took a few steps back. “I’ll let myself out,” he said in a gruff voice he didn’t recognize.
     She walked him to the door anyway, then locked it loudly and firmly the second he stepped outside, as if she couldn’t wait for him to go.