coaxed.
âToo embarrassed.â
âDonât be silly, Katie. Câmon.â
Katie reluctantly opened her eyes. Paul was sitting Indian-style on the grass, looking worried. âAre you okay? What just happened?â
Katie averted her gaze. âI didnât eat all day because I was so nervous about tonight, and then I sucked down three glasses of wine on an empty stomach, and voila! I turned into the fabulous new Tipsy Tillie doll! Just kiss her and she throws up on the grass! Batteries not included!â
âOh, Katie.â He put his hand out but Katie rolled out of reach. âItâs okay. Really. But why were you nervous?â
âBecause I was seeing you ,â she muttered.
âIâm flattered,â Paul replied softly.
âAnd Iâm mortified.â She whipped off the scarf around her neck and handed it to him. âDo me a favor, will you? Strangle me.â
âQuit hiding behind jokes and talk to me.â
âIâm not hiding,â Katie insisted, acute embarrassment burning through her at being so transparent. When he didnât take the scarf, she retied it around her neck and rose unsteadily on her feet. âI really need to go home.â
âWhy donât we try this again?â
âWhat, a date?â Just shaking her head made her eyeballs feel like loose marbles rolling around in her head. âI donât think so.â
âWhy the hell not?â The edge of anger in his voice as he hurriedly gathered up their picnic foods and threw them into the basket got her attention. âSo you drank on an empty stomach. So you threw up. So big deal.â
âI donât know, Paul.â She took a few unsteady steps. âI have to think about it.â
âWhatâs to think about?â he demanded, slamming the picnic basket shut. âKatie?â
âPaul, I really need you to get me home.â The wine was making her temples pound and her stomach was still doing the samba. All she wanted was to crawl between the clean, crisp sheets of her childhood bed.
âNot until you tell me what youâre thinking.â
âIâm not thinking, Paul. Iâm drunk. And humiliated. And ashamed. Andââ
âIâve got the picture.â Taking her arm, he slowly walked with her to the car, opening the door for her. âWeâll talk about this when youâre feeling better.â He leaned down, face close to hers. âIâm not letting you off the hook, Fisher. Donât forget it.â
Katie just groaned and looked away.
Â
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â Aunt Katie? Why do you keep popping aspirin?â
Katie looked over at Tuck, anxiously bouncing along the brick path beside her. They were on their way to visit Mina at Windy Gables, the rehab facility. Katie loved the way these places always seemed to have names conjuring up images of serenity: Windy Gables, Seven Oaks. As if all the residents were peaceful, contented folks. She supposed it made sense, though. What else could you call it? Detox Acres? Cold Turkey Meadows?
âAunt Katie has a headache. Itâs no big deal.â
The last thing sheâd wanted to do when she got up that morning with the hangover from hell was drag her ass out of bed, but sheâd promised to take Tuck to see Mina, and there was no way she was going to let him down. Besides, she wanted to see Mina, too. It was the first time since her sister had been admitted that she was allowed to have visitors. So here she was, sunglasses keeping the glare out of her eyes, aspirin not working nearly as well as she would have liked. It didnât help her mood when sheâd come down to breakfast to find her mother pacing the kitchen floor like an expectant father.
âWell?â she demanded eagerly, following so close behind Katie as she went to get coffee that Katie could feel her breath on her neck. âHow was your date?â
âIt was great!â Katie
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