The One-Week Wife

When they’d exhausted that topic, the conversation turned to Vanessa’s ongoing battle with her deceased husband’s family over his will.

Emma, much more openly kindhearted than Felicity would ever be, reached over and clasped Vanessa’s hand. “I’m sorry you’re having to go through this, Van.”

At times like this, Felicity couldn’t help remembering how Sam’s family—whom she had adored—had turned against her after the divorce. She, too, reached for Vanessa’s hand. “Just remember. This will pass.”

Her reward was a smile. “Thanks,” Vanessa said softly. “To all of you.” Raising her water glass, she said, “Here’s to friendship.”

After they toasted one another, the talk finally veered to lighter subjects, and before Felicity knew it, it was time to go.

Emma walked out with Felicity, and as they stood in the parking lot, she asked, “Is everything all right? You left the table so abruptly before.” Her eyes were troubled. “Are you angry with me for some reason?”

“Why would you say that?” Felicity wished she could confide in Emma, but how could she? “Of course I’m not angry with you.”

“I know you’ve always liked Reed. You probably think I treated him badly.”

Felicity sighed. “Emma, you did the right thing. Actually, I admire you for having the guts to tell him the truth.” She smiled. “I’m glad for you and Garrett.”

“You’re not just saying that?”

“No,” Felicity said softly. “I’m not just saying that.”

Emma sighed in relief. “I’m so glad. I—I would’ve hated if this had impacted our friendship.” She hesitated, then added, “Your friendship is very important to me—you know that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. Because I feel the same way.”

Smiling at one another, they hugged, then said goodbye, promising to talk soon.

Driving home, Felicity vowed that in the future she would not do anything that would cause her to keep secrets from Emma again. Her friendship with Emma was too important to jeopardize, and even though Emma had broken up with Reed, she might still feel a sense of betrayal if Felicity were to start seeing him. She might even think Felicity had just been waiting for an opportunity to pounce. I can’t have that happen. I can’t gamble with my friendship with Emma.

So even though she felt regret, Felicity knew she had to put Reed Kelly out of her mind once and for all.

“Hey, Reed! Wait up.”

Reed, who had been about to walk into the Eastwick hardware store, turned to see his lawyer and old friend, Jack Cartwright, approaching. “Hey, Jack. How’re you doing?”

Jack grinned. “Great. How about you?”

“Great.”

“No, I mean, how’re you doing, really?”

Dammit. There was that look of pity Reed had come to despise. “Hell, Jack,” he said irritably. “I’m fine. I wish everyone would quit asking.”

Because Jack really was a good friend, he didn’t take offense at Reed’s testy answer. Instead, he reached over and grasped Reed’s arm, saying, “Sorry, man. I just…you know.”

Reed sighed. “Yeah, I know.” Determined to change the subject, he added, “How’s Lily? Isn’t she about due?”

Jack’s expression softened. “She’s got a couple of months yet.”

Reed couldn’t help feeling a pang of envy. Not only was Jack married to a beautiful woman he was crazy about, she was carrying his child.

They talked a while longer, then Jack said he had a three-o’clock appointment and had better hurry if he was going to make it. They promised to get together soon, and Reed went inside the store. He found the things he needed, then walked to the front of the store to pay for them. Mae Burrows, the wife of the owner, was working the counter. She rang up his purchases, told him what he owed, then said, “Reed, I just wanted to tell you how sorry I was to hear about you and Emma Dearborn splitting up.”

Trying to keep his voice from showing his frustration, he said, “Thanks, Mae, but it was for the best.”

“Well, that may be,” she said, “but it still must hurt.”

“Oh, no worse than having my nails pulled out one by one.” At her expression, he chuckled. “Only kidding, Mae.” Reaching over, he squeezed her hand. “Seriously, I appreciate your concern, but our breakup really is best for both of us.” Taking his package, he waved goodbye and walked out before she could say anything else.

But her remarks, combined with Jack’s sympathetic comments, only reinforced the idea that had been brewing now for more than twenty-four hours.

“People in this town need something new to talk about,” he muttered. “And I know just what that something is.”

So instead of heading straight back to the farm, he walked down the block to Georgia Lang’s travel agency. He was in luck. Georgia was in, and she didn’t have a customer. Peering at him over the glasses perched on her nose, she said with a slight frown, “Hello, Reed.”

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