ANDREW
Good morning, beautiful.
I texted back.
MAGGIE
Good morning, handsome. Just woke.
Someone kept me up late.
ANDREW
Who kept you up? Lol.
I thought you might sleep in. I have coffee/muffin for you. Should I bring them?
MAGGIE
Bring you, please.
ANDREW
On my way.
I lay back in bed. My heart was so full of joy. How long had it been since I’d felt such elation? Ten minutes later my phone vibrated.
ANDREW
I’m at the door.
I pulled on a robe, walked out to the foyer, and opened the door. Andrew was holding a cardboard coffee carrier and a white bakery sack.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he said. “May I come in?”
“Anytime,” I said.
He stamped off his feet and stepped inside. We kissed, then he said, “Kitchen?”
“Yes, please.”
I followed him. He set my coffee on the table along with the paper sack. “I brought muffins. I hope you like muffins.”
“How did you know I was hungry?”
“We never went out to eat last night. I kind of felt bad about that.”
“Did you hear me complaining?”
He smiled. “Honestly, I didn’t feel too bad.” He grabbed the sack. “I wasn’t sure what kind of muffins you like, so I got almost every kind they had. Banana nut, oatmeal walnut, blueberry, and cinnamon apple. You don’t have to eat them all.”
“I’ll restrain myself. I’ll have the apple.”
“It’s yours,” he said, handing me a muffin. “I’ll have the blueberry.”
We both sat down at the table. “What a nice surprise,” I said. “It’s almost breakfast in bed.”
“That could be arranged,” he said.
“So I was thinking, I could make dinner for us tonight. There’s this Japanese roast chicken recipe I found. Does that sound good?”
His expression fell. “I can’t tonight. I have to leave town.”
My heart fell. “Oh. For long?”
“No, just the weekend. I’ve got to drive to Denver.”
“Would you like some company? I don’t have any plans.”
“Not this time,” he said. He must have read the disappointment on my face, because he added, “Maybe next time.”
My offer had clearly surprised him. “Is there a next time?”
“I go every week. I have family there that I’m taking care of.” He hesitated. “I’m really sorry. It’s been this way since I came to Utah. It should only be a few more weeks.”
“It’s okay. You don’t owe me anything.”
“It’s not about owing. I want to be with you.” He just sat there looking at me. Reading me. “You still look upset.”
“I’m sorry. I was just really looking forward to being with you. Last night was so . . .” I didn’t finish.
“Amazing,” he said. “I’m so sorry. But it’s just a day. I’ll be back by Saturday night. Then I’ll be around for the week.”
I think I probably still seemed upset, because he looked at me for a moment, then stood. “Come here.”
“Where?”
He put out his hand. “Back to the couch.”
“You sound like a psychiatrist.”
“Exactly.”
I stood and took his hand and we walked back out to the living room. We sat down next to each other on the couch. I draped my arms around him and we kissed. After we parted he said, “Where were we?”
“I was saying that I was looking forward to being with you. I couldn’t tell you the last time I was that happy.”
“And now I’m depriving you of it.”
“Basically,” I said, kissing him. We kissed for a couple of minutes, then I said, “You really want to go? And leave me?”
“No, I don’t want to leave you. But I have to.” He looked into my eyes. “Don’t be blue.”
“I’m always blue this time of the year. Why is that?” I said.
“I have no idea.”
“You’re not much of a psychiatrist.”
“No. I’d be horrible at it. Why do you think you’re blue this time of year?”
“I think I have that seasonal affect thing.”
“SAD,” he said. “Seasonal affective disease.”
I laughed. “It’s disorder, not disease.”
“You’re the one who called it a ‘thing.’ ” He was quiet a moment, then said, “I have a solution, if you’re interested.”
“You have a solution for my SAD?”
“I do. It’s called Los Cabos.”
“Cabos? As in Mexico?”
He nodded. “A friend of mine has a condo there. There’s no shortage of sun. We should go.”
I leaned back to look at him. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. Have you ever been to Cabo San Lucas?”
“No. But I’ve seen pictures.”
“This is the ideal time of the year to go. The weather is perfect and the condo has a perfect view of the ocean.”
“You really are serious.”
“I am. Is there a problem with that?”
“I barely know you.”
“That’s true for both of us. Which is why we’ll have separate rooms.”
“What about your Christmas tree lot?”
“It’s November. Sheldon can run it.”
“I thought his name was Shelby.”
“Whatever,” he said.
I laughed. “I can’t believe you’re serious.” My mind reeled at the proposition. “I don’t know.”
“You said you could use some sun. And I’m betting you could use time out of Utah.”
“Both true.”
“So why not just say yes?”
“It’s just so . . .”
“Spontaneous?”
“Yes. Pisces are not very spontaneous.”
“But Pisces are fish and Cabo is on the sea, so it’s kind of a natural.”
“When would we go?”
“Let me check the flights.” He looked at his phone. After some scrolling he said, “There’s a direct flight from Salt Lake to Los Cabos Sunday morning.”
“You mean Sunday, as in three days from now?”
He nodded. “I’ll be back Saturday night. We could stay until Friday morning; that would give us six days.”
I thought for a moment. “Wait—it’s Thanksgiving that week.”
His brow furrowed. “You have plans?”
“Just with Carina. And her parents.”
He looked disappointed. “It was a nice thought.”
“I could cancel,” I said.
“I don’t want to get you in trouble with your friend.” He smiled. “Or, actually, I do.”
“She’ll understand. I already felt like a charity case. What about you? Don’t you have plans?”
“No, it’s just me. I usually spend Thanksgiving in Cabo. Spending Thanksgiving with you would be even better.”
I wanted to go more than I could say. “It would be wonderful.”
“So?”
“Let’s do it,” I blurted out.
He glanced down at his phone, then at me. “I’m going to book it. Are you sure?”
I took a deep breath. “Yes.”
“And you have a passport?”
“Yes.”
He smiled. “Good.” He typed into his smartphone and looked up at me. “Done. We’re going to Cabo.”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this. What do I bring? Besides my passport?”
“Just your clothes. Nothing you would wear in Utah right now. Swimsuit, nightwear, sunglasses. The condo has everything we need.”
“And you’re sure the condo’s available?”
He smiled. “Positive.”
Chapter Eighteen
Carina’s not happy about my impending trip. You would think that I had booked a seat on the Titanic.