“But you didn’t end up putting your degree to work. Isn’t that why you were frustrated with me at the Sutton?” I ask.
“I didn’t for a long time. But eventually, when our youngest was in school all day, I began to volunteer at the Sutton as a docent. And when the last kid was grown and flown, I made sure I got a seat on the board.”
“So then you did get to live both versions of your life,” I say.
Catherine considers that, then smiles. “I guess I did.”
She gathers the letters back into a stack and returns them to the folder, keeping it nestled in her arm when she stands. “Thank you again for this. You two make a fearsome team.”
Jay and I smile at each other.
“I agree,” he says.
“Wonderful,” Catherine replies. “But do not kiss the director again until you’ve taken her out on a proper date.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says.
We stand to walk her out, but she won’t let us go as far as walking her to her car, shooing us back in with an order to try the scones.
We stand on the porch and wave as she leaves, but as soon as her car is out of sight, I turn to Jay wearing my serious business face.
“I should probably disclose something to you as a board member,” I tell him.
“What’s that?”
“I’m not always great at taking orders.” And with that, I pull him down for a long overdue second kiss.
Chapter Forty
Phoebe
Two Months Later
I move quicklyand quietly up the rungs of the secret passage. Jay might guess I’m in here, but he’ll start in the library, and he’ll be wrong.
I pause to listen when I reach the wardrobe, but I don’t hear any other sounds. Good. He’s not onto me yet. I reach inside the wardrobe in a move I could do in my sleep now and pull myself in, landing with a barely audible thump.
Grinning because Jay’s going to have to eat pierogi for dinner again, I push open the wardrobe doors and promptly shriek as strong arms wrap around me and drag me all the way out.
“Found you.”
“You rat!” I say, pushing against Jay, who is laughing too hard to keep a good hold on me. “You scared me to death.”
“As long as you revive in time for dinner tonight.”
“Seriously, a hundred restaurants in this town and you want sandwiches.”
“You say that like it’s one food. Sandwiches are infinitefood, Phoebe. Anything you can put between two pieces of bread, that’s a sandwich. The only limit is your imagination.”
“That doesn’t explain why you always get the Reuben.”
“Pastrami explains why I always get the Reuben.”
“Pierogi are also infinite food,” I tell him. “Infinite flavor combinations.”
“We’ve had pierogi the last two nights,” he says. “Don’t be a sore loser.”
My answer is a mature “Hmph” before I stalk back into the closet, but I smile as I climb down the rungs. Jay has moved into the cottage full-time, and we have routines. The good kind that make life stable and happy, like wagering stupid things for who gets to pick dinner.
