The Summer Cottage by Susan Kietzman

Author:Susan Kietzman [Kietzman, Susan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2015-04-07T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 20

1973

Thomas walked along Main Street feeling refreshed. He had delivered Mr. Sloan’s baked goods by nine o’clock. After dropping the truck off, he stopped at the bank for some cash and then drove home for a quick run and swim before showering, shaving, and dressing in khaki pants and a light blue button-down shirt to take Anna out to lunch. She had just an hour, so he wanted to be prompt. He was always on time anyway, arriving at every destination within minutes of his goal. This had not been the case when he was younger and habitually late to everything, from baseball practice, to and from which he rode his bike, to dinner. His father had taken him aside one evening when he was thirteen or fourteen, when he had been thirty minutes late to the table and Claire had refused to serve him, and told him that late people were under the mistaken assumption that their time was more important than everyone else’s. And it was the understanding that being late is a discourtesy to others, much more so than the disappointment in eating cold potatoes for dinner, that swayed Thomas. He hadn’t been late since.

He had talked with Anna on the phone several times since the cookout, but he had not seen her, and his heart was active in anticipation. His mother had spoken with him again about Anna, reiterating that she was concerned about his future. He could go as far in life as he wanted to go, Claire told him, unless something or someone held him back. Not that this Anna probably wasn’t a very nice young woman. But the mere fact that she had a daughter presented problems. If he stayed with Anna, he would be forever supporting a child he didn’t sire. Thomas assured his mother that he hadn’t yet considered marriage after a single date and that he would take her advice to heart. To push back a little, he asked her about all the children who were adopted and supported by fathers who had absolutely nothing to do with their conception. That, she said, was another matter altogether.

After his swim, shower, and shave, Thomas quickly dressed and then drove into town and parked in front of Anna’s building. He opened the thick glass door that read HUDSON AND LAMBERT in gold lettering and walked in. Within seconds, his feet were off the tiled floor and onto a plush Oriental carpet that covered more than half the lobby. Straight ahead was a large mahogany desk, occupied by a young dark-haired woman who was not Anna. Thomas checked his watch. He was two minutes early. He approached the desk. “May I help you?”

“I’m looking for Anna Santiago,” said Thomas, looking at the woman and then glancing behind her, hoping to see Anna.

“She’s getting ready to go out to lunch,” she said. “Is there something I could help you with?”

“No,” said Thomas. “I’m the one she’s getting ready for.”

“Oh,” the woman said, visibly startled.

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