Remember the Time by Annette Reynolds Read Free Book Online

of his mind he could hear the first bass notes of a Temptations’ song. He drifted back to sleep dancing with a seventeen-year-old Kate in his arms, the refrain of “My Girl” echoing through his head.

C HAPTER
EIGHT
    K ate knocked on the back door, then let herself into the small mud porch that in turn led to the kitchen. “Do I remember right? Did you ask me out to breakfast?”
    Mike sat back from the table and put down the newspaper. “You do, and I did.”
    “Oh, good,” she said in mock relief. “I was afraid I’d dreamed it. Do I smell coffee?”
    As he poured her a cup, Mike asked, “How are you feeling this morning?”
    She cupped her hands around the warm mug and with a touch of irony said, “I can’t be sure, not ever having experienced the feeling, but I think I’m a little hungover.”
    Mike chuckled. “Yeah, that must’ve been someone who looked a lot like you whose head I held while she lost her cookies at the side of the road. Several times.”
    “God, weren’t we stupid?”
    “That we were,” he said, turning to the oven. “Take your coat off and stay awhile.”
    “I thought you were taking me out to eat.”
    “You’re out and you’re about to eat.”
    “I see,” Kate said with a smile. She sat at the table and pushed the paper aside. Mike set a plate in front of her.“Eggs Benedict! Jesus, Mike …” Kate put a forkful in her mouth and closed her eyes in bliss. “This is delicious. You’re gonna make some woman a terrific wife.”
    “Having utterly failed at being a husband,” Mike stated, joining her.
    “Allison wasn’t good enough for you.” Kate grinned. “What about that artist you were seeing? What was her name? Eleanor something-or-other …”
    “Pleasant.”
    “Yes, she seemed nice.”
    “No. Pleasant was her last name.”
    Kate thoughtfully chewed a bite of English muffin. “What happened?”
    “She moved to Charleston. We still talk.” Trying to steer the conversation in another direction, he asked, “More coffee?”
    “Just talk?” Kate kept on.
    “If business throws us together we do more than talk. Okay?”
    “I’m sure Sheryl said you were practically engaged,” Kate mused.
    “Sheryl talks too much. Besides, I didn’t ask you over here to discuss my personal life, as fascinating as it may be.”
    “Sorry. What
did
you want to talk about? I’ve forgotten.”
    “Your house, Kate. It’s falling apart around you. I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
    “I have. Reminds me a lot of me.” She grinned.
    “Not funny,” Mike said, although he tended to agree with her. “Some morning you’re going to wake up with the sun in your eyes, and it won’t be coming through the window.”
    Kate sipped her coffee, then said, “I can’t keep up with it, Mike.”
    “Do you plan on staying there?”
    “Where else would I go? I can’t sell it.”
    “Why?” He looked at her hard.
    Her eyes shifted to a point somewhere over his shoulder. “Well, I just can’t. That’s all.”
    Mike knew enough to leave that one alone. “Look, Kate. Winter’s coming and the damage is just going to get worse. I’m about to make you an offer you can’t refuse.”
    Her eyes found his again. “What’s that?”
    “I’ll do the work for you. No charge. I’m going to be here for a couple of months and I’ve got Matt to help me. It’s a crime to let that place go the way you have. What do you say?”
    “I say, what’s the catch?”
    “No catch. I’ll go over the whole place. Do an evaluation. We’ll do the worst first.”
    Kate chewed her bottom lip for a moment. “I can’t let you do all that for nothing. You know that. And I repeat, what’s the catch?”
    Mike took a deep breath and pretended to think. “Okay, how’s this? I need some help cataloging the furnishings at Cobble Hill. They’re doing a major restoration, which means stripping the house and storing everything.”
    Without hesitation, Kate said, “I can’t.”
    “Oh, I think you can.