Smooth Sailing

SMOOTH SAILING

(A Second Chance Romance)

Linda Rettstatt

Smooth Sailing

(A Second Chance Romance)

Smashwords Edition

© 2016, Linda Rettstatt

3rd Act Books

Cover Art Design by SelfPubBookCovers.com/Daniela

All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work, in whole or part, by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, is illegal and forbidden.

This is a work of fiction. Characters, settings, names, and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination and bear no resemblance to any actual person, living or dead, places or settings, and/or occurrences. Any incidences of resemblance are purely coincidental.

DEDICATION

For all of you who have ventured into love, perhaps for the second time around and at a later time in life. Romance is not only for the young, and those who have been seasoned by life can bring a different depth and richness to a relationship. I love writing what I call ‘second chance’ romances for that very reason. Second chances are a theme throughout many of my books. Rather than thinking of my characters as having ‘baggage’—something we usually view in a negative way—I think of them as having wisdom honed by their experiences (good or bad). So, this book is dedicated to those of you who dared to open yourself up to love—again and again.

I wish you Smooth Sailing.

Chapter One

Edie padded into her kitchen, her toes curling on the cold tile. She dropped a K-cup into the single-cup brewer and slid a mug under the dispenser before pressing the brew button. Then she went in search of her slippers. Her cell phone rang as she returned to the kitchen. Hello?

Edie, where were you last night?"

Hello to you, too. I had dinner with Grant.

Put on coffee. I’m on my way over.

No, Sylvie, wait…. But the dead air in her cell phone told her Sylvie was probably already out her door and crossing the lawn that separated their houses.

Edie refilled the reservoir and dropped in another coffee pod just as her back door burst open. Okay, before I pass judgment on your sanity, tell me what the hell you were thinking. Sylvie hitched herself up onto one of the stools at the center island.

Dragging fingers through her sleep-mussed hair, Edie sighed. Can you wait until your coffee’s brewed? You want a cinnamon roll? I picked up half a dozen yesterday at Clark’s Bakery.

Edie, have you looked at yourself lately? You’ve put on at least ten pounds.

Could Sylvie really think she didn’t already know this? And what kind of friend so bluntly pointed it out? Yes, I’ve looked at myself and, yes, I know I’ve put on a few pounds. I’ll start exercising again when school’s out. She removed the filled mug from the coffee brewer and set it down a little harder than necessary in front of Sylvie. So I guess that’s a no to the cinnamon roll.

I didn’t say that. I haven’t put on pounds. Sylvie slapped a paper napkin down on the counter and reached for one of the gooey pastries.

Edie stared at the rolls, bit her bottom lip and then sipped her coffee. Okay. So, Grant called and asked if I’d meet him for dinner to go over our taxes and sign the form. We’re still filing jointly since the divorce isn’t final yet. That’s all there was to it.

Sylvie shook her head. That’s never all there is to it with Grant. Come on, Edie. He’s always got a hidden agenda.

No, really, he didn’t. He had his accountant prepare the tax forms. He explained them to me and let me review them and then I signed. He’s giving me half of the refund which will pad my bank account nicely.

She thought about the amount—forty-two hundred dollars. Then she thought about the hole in her world for the past eleven months. There hadn’t been an ugly fight or tears or shouting. Grant had simply announced he, needed time to think about some things. He hadn’t elaborated on the things and she hadn’t asked. Honestly, she was too stunned to formulate a question. This had come out of the blue. By the time she had begun to breathe again and had the ability to ask him what was going on, he had picked up his two packed bags and gone. The headlights of his Mercedes swept across the living room through the bay window as he pulled from the drive. Two months later, she’d received the text message that he was filing for divorce. That’s what their marriage had deteriorated to—a text message.

Edie? Are you okay?

I will be. You know, all I really want from Grant is some explanation. I want to know why? What did I or didn’t I do? The words caught in her throat and her eyes stung.

Awe, honey, this isn’t about you. And you know why he left. Because Grant is and always has been a self-absorbed, arrogant ass.

Edie picked up a paper napkin and dabbed at her eyes. But why now, after almost thirty years? You think this is a mid-life crisis thing and he’ll be back?

First of all, Grant is past mid-life. Secondly, why would you take him back?

Sniffling, Edie shook her head. It’s not like he cheated. He just wants some space.

Space? How long has it been since Grant came home from the hospital before nine p.m.? When was the last time he spent an entire weekend here with you? I’m not trying to make you feel worse, but you have to see the truth. Grant’s been getting space for a long time. You wanted to go on a cruise last year. He said ‘no’ and then turned around and spent a week golfing with his buddies in Alabama.

I don’t want my marriage to end. You don’t just give up on a thirty year marriage. Besides, I—I love him.

Sylvie reached across the counter and took hold of her hand. I know you do. But, Edie, he’s not coming back. He’s already filed for divorce. Where did you meet him for dinner last night?

Fridays.

Fridays. What does that tell you? Sylvie prodded.

I like Fridays. Grant knows that. Besides, it was a business meeting, not a date.

Exactly. What does that tell you?

Edie glared at her friend. Whose side are you on? You’re bordering on being cruel here.

No, I’m not. I’m being your friend which means opening your eyes to the light. Do you remember what you said to me when I was hidden in the dark of my bedroom two months after Aaron died?

That was different. Aaron didn’t choose to leave you. The man had a heart attack.

But I chose to stop living. And you said I had no right to do that. You told me that life is a precious gift and meant to be lived. You dragged my ass out of that bed, threw me into the shower, and then kicked me back into life. It’s time I return the favor.

But what if I move on and then Grant wants to come home? Maybe I’m not ready to completely give up on my marriage.

See, burying yourself in that attitude is just like me hiding in the dark under my comforter. You’re stuck, running in place and waiting for something to happen that isn’t going to happen.

Grant isn’t dead. He’s just living in a hotel for now. If he wants to end our marriage, he’ll have to be the one to do so. What I am ending is this discussion. She reached out and grabbed a cinnamon roll, taking a huge bite, the icing sticking to the tip of her nose.

Seems to me he’s already done that. I’m worried about you. Grant has taken a confident, strong, self-assured woman and turned her into….

Edie glared at her. Go ahead. Finish that statement. Into what?

Do I really have to say it? Sylvie slid down from the stool and carried her coffee mug to the sink. Why don’t we have a girls’ day out? The spa, lunch, maybe a movie or shopping after?

Edie breathed in relief that Sylvie let the subject of Grant drop. That sounds wonderful. What about a weekend away? We could leave earlier on a Friday afternoon as soon as school dismisses.

Yes! There’s a new resort that opened a few months ago up on the mountain. I’ll make a reservation. Are your weekends all clear?

Edie snorted. With the exception of Monday through Friday from seven to four, my life is clear. I can probably leave as early at three-thirty for once. We could get there by six in time for dinner. Any weekend is good.

I’ll call this afternoon and set us up.

You want to come over tonight for dinner?

Sylvie grinned. Can’t. I have a date.

A bolt of loneliness rolled through Edie. That and jealousy. Okay. Maybe another time.

Sylvie paused at the door. I can cancel the date. It’s not a big thing.

No, you should go. I have papers to correct anyway. Let me know what weekend we’re going to the resort. That’s something to look forward to.

Edie started working at the desk in the den. Formerly Grant’s desk. She found herself wanting to finish Sylvie’s statement. Had she let Grant rob her of her self-confidence? She sounded that way at times. She sounded whiney, making excuses for him. Or had she become weak, and had that been the thing that pushed Grant away? Why was it so hard for her to let him go when he clearly didn’t want her anymore? She hated to admit it, but Sylvie was right—she had changed. The beginnings of a tension headache thrummed behind her eyes.

She swiped at the moisture that blurred her vision, picked up her stack of papers to be graded and carried them to the living room. Afternoon sun streamed through the windows and shone off the winter white walls. The living room stood in bright contrast to the dark austerity of the den. She dropped the papers on the coffee table and scanned the room.

This house needs a makeover, she said aloud. My life needs a makeover, she thought inwardly. She spent the next hour jotting notes on how she would redecorate the house. It was the safer place to start. Then she realized without Grant’s income, she wouldn’t have the money to makeover the house. He had been sending her a check every two weeks to cover the monthly bills, but not enough to pay for her redecorating plans. Maybe her income tax refund would be best put to use on the house.

She sighed. At least the house was paid off. She could ask Grant for the money, but the thought of doing so made her stomach burn. They’d behaved like cordial strangers discussing business at dinner the previous evening. It wasn’t until she’d returned home—to the empty house—that she let her emotions rise to the surface. Then she’d cried herself to sleep. Grief, plain and simple, and she needed to recognize it for what it was.

She refocused on decorating possibilities. Perhaps she could afford to paint the living room. At least an accent wall. The room needed color. Her life needed color, a little brightening up. She glanced at her watch and reached for her phone.

Hi, Carly. Is it too late to get my hair done this afternoon?

What do you want done?

A cut and maybe some color or highlights?

Sure, Edie. I can get you in at four. Last appointment of the day.

Great. And, Carly, I want to do something different. I’ll come early and browse your magazines. It’s time for a change.

All right. At last, you’re going to let me change that style you’ve had for twenty years.

Thirty, but who’s counting. I’ll see you soon.

Time for a change. She couldn’t change her marriage. She couldn’t afford to change her house. Hell, why not change her hairstyle? It was sad that such a simple thing gave her a sense of power. Maybe Sylvie had been right in what she hadn’t said. The truth was often unspoken or hidden between the lines. Sometimes the truth came from inside rather than from someone else.

~ * ~

I have to say it again, I love your hair. Sylvie reached out and touched a highlighted strand of Edie’s new, shorter hairstyle.

Thanks. I thought perhaps the highlights were too much. You know, too young for me.

Are you kidding? You look gorgeous. I know there’s at least one business conference going on this weekend at the resort. You know what that means—men!

Technically I’m still married. I’m hardly looking for a man.

Maybe not, but it’ll be a good time to take the new you out for a spin, check the reactions. Besides, your marriage is, as you said, only a technicality.

Edie let that subject drop. I’m surprised you got reservations for this weekend. How much farther?

We should be there in about twenty minutes. Isn’t it beautiful up here?

It is. Edie looked out at the pine trees, branches dipped with the remnants of the last snow. Everything looks so fresh and crisp. They’re calling for more snow tonight. Just a dusting. I can’t wait to get up early and go walking.

Are you crazy? It’s going to be below freezing in the morning. Hard to believe it’s mid-April. Shouldn’t Spring be springing by now?

Spring comes later in the mountains. I don’t mind the chill. I love it when the air smells like it could snap in two.

You’re crazy, you know that?

I’ve considered the possibility. Edie couldn’t help but smile. I was thinking.

Uh-oh.

Let’s take a cruise when school’s out.

Sylvie nearly ran the car off the road. Who are you, and what have you done with my very practical best friend?

Edie laughed. I know. Not the practical Edie talking. It’s something I always wanted to do. Grant promised we would. That’s not happening, so let’s you and me go. Alaska’s inner passage. What do you say?

Hell yes. Count me in.

I’ll have Allie make the arrangements through her agency. Edie felt a surge of reclaimed power. She really was free to do what she wanted. This, she mused, was the other side of the two-edged sword of divorce—freedom from and freedom to. Now, what do you know about this resort?

"It’s been featured in travel magazines.