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I tried not to gasp, and instead replied casually, “Oh.” Luke wasn’t just a really good trader, I thought to myself. Luke was a really, really, really, really, really good trader. From appearances, he was completely loaded and raking in the cash.

“Here we go,” said Luke, pulling out gauze bandages, antiseptic cloths, anti-biotic cream and band-aids. He brought them over and put them down on the granite-top kitchen table. Then he pulled out one of the chairs and told me to sit down.

“So, can I ask you a really personal question?” he asked, sitting in a chair across from me, reaching under my calves, lifting them up till my running shoes meet his knees.

“I can do it,” I said, horrified once again because I was sure Luke noticed my unshaven legs (of which I was minutes away from shaving for Preston.)

“No. I take pride in being chivalrous. It builds up my badly bruised ego and makes me feel good about myself.”

“Okay,” I giggled.

Luke ripped open an antiseptic cloth packet and began wiping one of my knees.

“Ouch!” I shouted.

He chuckled, “Sorry, but I have to clean it.”

“So, what’s the question?”

“Well, what do you do after your husband dies? I mean, how the hell do you get through that?”

“I’m not sure what’s more painful. The antiseptic or having to answer that question.”

“Then never mind. Don’t answer it. I’m sorry. I don’t want to upset you.”

“Actually, it’s really strange. I don’t even know you, but I want to answer it.”

Luke nodded and began putting cream on my knees. It was so weird. It hurt, but I liked being touched by him. It wasn’t sexual, but it wasn’t platonic either. There was something about him that made me feel safe, secure, and very protected.

“The truth is, I haven’t dealt with it at all. I don’t date. I don’t work. I don’t do anything.”

“Come on, you have to do something. What about your daughter?”

“Actually, yes, I take care of my daughter.”

“That’s something. That’s everything.”

“I also make salsa frequently and compulsively, and I work in my garden.”

“Your garden?”

“Yeah. I love planting things. Flowers, plants, vegetables… There’s something very therapeutic about taking care of plant life. Watering it, feeding it and watching things grow. My garden’s awesome. You should come see it sometime.”

“I should come see your garden?” he joked, “That sounds like a pick up line.”

I burst out laughing, and then Luke laughed too, and there was a moment of familiarity and friendship that was odd, but very pleasing. For me to talk to a complete stranger about my dead husband was saying something about the complete stranger. Or maybe this whole thing was timing. Or maybe I felt safe with Luke because he was bandaging my physical wounds. I wasn’t sure how the hell I’d just gotten here, to a magical place, ironically, again in someone else’s kitchen, but here I was.

I liked Luke. I liked him a lot. Did I want to rip his clothes off and attack him like I did with Preston? No. But I sensed the potential for something deep, something meaningful, the start of a friendship, perhaps?

How my life had changed so much in just a matter of a few days was amazing. The widow, who for a year felt sadness, not to mention guilt beyond belief, who felt unworthy of any kind of pleasure in life, had met two people all of a sudden, two guys who had awakened her in very different ways. One, an attraction so powerful, causing a sexual desire like none I’d ever experienced, and the other, a safety net, someone who I almost instantly valued as a respected friend. Both men made me feel good about myself but in very dissimilar ways. They had one thing in common, though. Both of them infatuated me.

At this moment, I heard a dog barking. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back,” said Luke, standing up and leaving the room. A minute later, probably the cutest little beagle puppy I’d ever seen appeared, frantically running through the kitchen doorway, attacking me.

“Emma, meet Lucky, the newest member of my family. Lucky, this is Emma.” As I made a huge, genuine fuss over Lucky, I instantly fell in love with her. She was white with big, floppy, light brown ears and black and brown patches all over her back.

A few seconds after Lucky showered me with kisses and smelled me, she went over to Luke and nestled her head into his rib cage. “This dog is so attached to me,” said Luke with a chuckle, “She won’t leave me alone. She’s touching me like twenty-four seven!”

I could understand how Lucky felt. Like me, this pooch had instantly seen something in Luke that she liked, something she desperately wanted to hold onto. I felt like asking Luke to leave, so Lucky and I could have a private chat. I wanted to say to this furry little creature, “I really like your owner.” I wanted to ask her, “Is he a good guy? Does he bring girls here? What have you seen? Is he genuine?”

“I’m so rude. I didn’t even ask you if you wanted anything to drink,” said Luke, “How about a bottled water?”

I looked at my watch and saw it was 5:30. “Actually, I have to go.”

“Late for a big date or something?” he joked.

“Actually, I am.”

“Oh,” he replied, seeming a little surprised. This was the first awkward moment we’d had yet.

“It’s my first date since my husband died.”

Luke smiled, “I think that’s really great. I mean it.”

At this very moment, part of me wanted him to say, “No! Don’t go on your date. Stay here with me and we’ll order Chinese.” If he would have said that, I probably would have said okay. Yet, who was I kidding? The man picking me up in an hour and a half was gorgeous and young, and his presence tended to stop my heart. Why wouldn’t I want to go out with him? Because I was scared shitless. In Luke’s house, I wasn’t scared. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t bored either. And this wasn’t purely platonic for me. But there was something oddly relaxing about being in Luke’s big, quiet house, and I wanted to stay. Forever!

“Thanks, Luke,” I smiled, “I appreciate the support.”

“Can I have your phone number? Maybe we could do coffee sometime or go running together.”

Score! He asked for my number! Yet, coffee and/or exercising together seemed very platonic. Still, as he programmed my number into his cell phone, I was very happy that he wanted to see me again, no matter what we would do together.

Luke walked me back to my car and per my request, we brought Lucky with us. I shut my car door, started the engine, and rolled down the window.

“Make sure you look beautiful tonight,” said Luke, “I know you will. I wish I could see you all dressed up for your date.”

“Thanks,” I smiled, glancing down at Lucky, who was panting and wagging her tail. “Thanks for everything, Luke. Bye, Lucky!” I said.

I drove off, and in my rear view mirror I watched Luke and his dog turn around and start walking. He was adorable. Luke, that is. And Lucky… What a great name. It was funny.
I
was the one who felt Lucky. Luke liked me. I could tell.

.

Chapter 6

M
y doorbell rang at 7:04, and ironically, Preston could have gotten his wish if I’d have answered the door at that moment. That’s because I was still wearing just my bra and underwear thanks to Laura, who called me fifteen minutes earlier, hysterically crying upon hearing the news that Alan bought his girlfriend a three-carat diamond ring.

“Audrey was the one who told me about it! Can you believe that? I had to find out through my daughter, that my
husband
is getting married!” she said, barely audible since she was sobbing while she spoke.

“What a jerk,” I said sadly, “I’m so sorry, Laura. It’ll be okay. I promise.”

“I don’t think so,” she sobbed, “I mean, I’m forty four years old!” She sobbed more and then went on, “In two weeks, Audrey will be off to Europe and then college, and now, when I’m supposed to start enjoying life, I’m going to end up a lonely old woman with no one.” She continued to cry and hyperventilate.

“Laura, first of all, you’ll never end up alone. You’ll always have me. And secondly, you
are
going to start enjoying your life more. It’s just going to be different than what you pictured. You may actually meet someone you really love, now that Alan will be out of the picture.”

“Meet someone? Are you crazy? I’ll never ever go near another man, ever again! I find them all to be disgusting, selfish pigs who serve no purpose in life other than to bring strong women down and ruin everything!” She began sobbing again and I realized just how much Laura was about to go through.

Although death and divorce are very different situations, I could relate to my sister’s feelings, and I was literally getting nauseous as I remembered how I felt in the months and weeks following my husband’s sudden death. The thought of meeting, dating, touching, and/or opening up to another man in the slightest had been repulsive to me.

I also realized, however that Laura’s outlook was temporary, and that all it would probably take for her to change her mindset was time, or let’s be honest, a Preston or a Luke. All that being said, there was no reason to tell Laura any of this right now. I just had to allow her to vent and feel this way until something within her changed. And that time was undoubtedly down the road.

“Listen, Laura, I totally get how you feel and I know that in time you’ll come to terms with all of this.”

“Thanks.”

“I love you and I’m really looking forward to having you move in.”

“Can I start bringing stuff over tomorrow?” she asked, her voice filled with hope.

“Of course!” I said. I took a deep breath and hesitated before telling Laura I really had to get going.

“Oh my God!” she exclaimed, “I’m so sorry! I had no idea what time it was! I’ll let you go. Call me in the morning?”

“Okay,” I said, “Call me on my cell if you need me. I’ll pick up, I promise.”

“No, I’ll be okay,” she said, “You go have fun!”

“Thanks,” I said, “I’m really nervous.”

“Don’t be, you cougar, you!”

I burst out laughing. “Actually, I’d prefer M.I.L.F.!”

We hung up and a moment later I heard the doorbell. I quickly slipped my little black dress over my head, giggling as I saw that the length of the dress wouldn’t hide the band-aids. I didn’t care, though. If there were no knee scrapes, there would be no Luke.

The bell rang again. Time to focus. I grabbed a pair of big silver hoop earrings and put them in my ears while running downstairs to get the door, all this while praying that my bold, confident, sexy, young guy was as cute as I’d remembered. When I opened the door and saw him standing there dressed in khaki shorts and a short-sleeve white pullover that accented his dark skin, eyes and hair, I realized that my prayers were more than answered. Preston Christiansen was hot! He smiled, and I noticed that his white teeth identically matched his shirt.

“Hi,” he said casually, seeming nervous, which I liked because I was a wreck.

“Hi,” I said with a smile, “Come in.”

“Thanks.”

After a moment of the worst awkward silence I could remember in years, I suggested we have a glass of wine. Preston liked the idea, so I opened a bottle of Pinot, while he sat at my kitchen table, literally silent. ‘Why is he so tense?’ I wondered. What happened to the brave, self-assured guy on his knees in the McGowan’s kitchen?

As if he read my mind he stood up, walked over to me, took the bottle out of my hand and began pouring the wine. “I’m really nervous,” he said with a chuckle.

“Me too,” I said.

Preston put the wine glasses on the kitchen table and then looked me right in the eyes and said softly, “You look really pretty.” He never said a word about the band-aids.

His skills in the area of seduction were top notch and looking back, I think I was ready to go to bed with him right then and there. That’s what I think now. But at that moment, I was focused on my trembling body. I calmed myself down by taking multiple little sips of red wine, which I think Preston thought was funny because he kept chuckling.

After the wine at my place, we headed to
Donatella’s
, a little Italian restaurant in the next town over, which was cozy and intimate, the perfect place for a romantic first date. Another plus about the restaurant, I was sure I wouldn’t run into anyone I knew. Not that I was embarrassed by Preston, I actually felt proud to be seen with such a gorgeous guy. But my community was very small and gossipy, and I didn’t think that strutting around like a major cougar was that great of an idea. It would no doubt lead to lots of talk, and I was trying to avoid that since Isabelle now understood grown-up conversations.

Over more red wine, bruschetta, and grilled calamari, we talked about Preston’s position at
Winchester Foods,
and I realized he was extremely smart, which gave me a newfound respect for him and added a new dimension to the guy. I learned he went to College at Northwestern, and had a Masters degree in finance from Harvard. Hearing him talk business made him sexier than he already was, which I didn’t think was possible.

“So, when did you get divorced?” he asked halfway through dinner. This was the question that made me start taking bigger sips of wine. I realized right then that John and Stacy hadn’t told him I was a widow. They’d probably just said I was single.