Hettie’s good hand clasped around Julia’s finger and tapped it against the map again. “And see right there? It’s the sexy Italian you’re going to meet. He’s waiting right there.”
The pull of her mother-in-law’s hand had brought the finger over the Ligurian Sea area of the Mediterranean. “If he’s waiting right there, I hope he’s on a boat . . . or a good swimmer.”
“Fisherman.” Hettie’s hand lost its grip and dropped to the table. “They make the best lovers because they’ve learned to be patient.”
Frank’s dad had loved to fish, so Julia couldn’t keep from smiling at the subtle but unmistakable innuendo. “That so?”
“If I’m lying, I’m dying.” Hettie winked and made a cross over her heart.
“Well, patience is something I’ve been in short supply of lately.” Julia laid down the magnifying glass and slid back in the chair. “Camille was talking about how antsy I’ve been just yesterday.”
“Now don’t start belittling yourself. You’ve got loads of patience. Too much when it comes to some things.” Hettie didn’t say what, but Julia suspected she was referring to Frank . . . or herself. “I like seeing you restless and excited.”
“That pretty well sums me up right now.”
Hettie plucked another truffle from the new box Julia had brought this morning and nibbled on it. “Not sure where I failed with you. I can’t imagine wasting fabulous vacation time with exercise—at least, not the kind you’re planning on—much less getting excited about it.”
Chocolate dribbled down Hettie’s chin and Julia dug in her tote for a tissue to wipe it with. “Then you’ll probably disown me for admitting this.” She dabbed away the sweet spot. “But honestly? I’m looking forward to the business part almost as much as the hiking. Getting to be the procurer? Mmmm! I love the treasure hunt.” She lobbed the tissue toward a nearby trashcan and drummed the table when it went in. Then she clasped her hands together, determined to quiet her exuberance. “Camille is way better than I am with the customers.”
“Don’t sell yourself short.” Hettie laid a cold hand on her arm, but it warmed Julia’s heart. “You’re the one with the eye.”
Julia glanced down at her watch as she patted her mother-in-law’s hand. Time was running out here much too fast.
“You need to go on. I don’t want you rushing.” Hettie’s words and tone were pure mother. Julia had said the same things to Melissa countless times in exactly the same manner.
She really should be going, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave just yet. The trip was only for three weeks, but she’d never left Hettie that long, and the separation was one of the things that had her so jittery. “Do you want me to push you back to your room?”
“No, the book club will be starting here in about ten minutes.”
Julia had shifted to the edge of her seat, but now she settled back again. “What was this month’s book?”
“Pride and Prejudice.” Hettie grunted and fitted the lid back onto the candy box. “Poor Lizzie. Blinded by her pride.” She gave her head a sad little shake. “Seven times I’ve read the dang book, always thinking one of these times she’ll drop those blinders earlier and go for it.”
Austen was a favorite, so Hettie’s comment piqued Julia’s interest. “Hey, if Darcy had let his prejudice slip and quit being Mr. Snootypants sooner, she would’ve come around. And I didn’t know you were reading that one. We could’ve read it together.”
“No, thanks. Seven times is enough. Lizzie and Darcy will just have to go on learning the hard way.” Hettie raised an eyebrow. “But don’t be thinking you’ll find a Darcy where you’re going. Those hot-blooded Italian guys? They’re anything but stuffy. Not a Mr. Snootypants in the bunch.”
The gentle reminder had Julia glancing at her watch again. She really should be on her way, but . . .
“Julia.”
She raised her eyes to meet her mother-in-law’s firm yet tender gaze.
“It’s time, sweetheart. Get out of here before you get caught by the book club. Those old women will be all over you wanting to talk.”
Julia’s eyes blurred with tears. She was being silly and overly emotional, but she couldn’t help it. She scooted close enough to give Hettie a long hug. “I’ll miss you.”
“Love you, sweetheart.” Hettie let go and pushed her firmly away. “Now shoo. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
Julia stood. “Can I do anything for you before I leave?”
“Yes.” Hettie nodded toward the candy. “Stick that in the chair pocket, would you? I don’t want to have to share.”
Julia did as she was told and then rested her cheek for a quick moment to the top of the lovely white head.
She paused at the door for one last wave.
Hettie threw her a kiss in return.
* * *
During the three-hour drive from Paducah to the airport in St. Louis, Julia sang loudly with each song that came on the radio—no need of her playlist to make her happy this day. And later, tethered to the airplane by a seat belt, she still felt like a kite set free, literally soaring above the earth, on her way to a new place, ready for a new experience.
Anything was possible.
The two-hour weather delay in Chicago didn’t dampen her spirit either, even when she struggled to get her carry-on into the overhead storage compartment.
“Here, let me get that for you.”
Played against the surrounding drone of muffled murmurs, the vibrancy in the voice caught her off guard. Her body stirred at the brush of the hand that grasped her case and the male body that leaned in to her to give it a shove.
She turned to find herself staring at the pocket of a dress shirt and had to lean back slightly to make eye contact with the speaker, a payoff well worth the effort.
Fringes of dark blond surrounded jade-green irises in a pair of eyes that crinkled at the sides when he smiled. In fact, his whole face crinkled when he smiled. Deep dimples creased the jawline at the sides of his mouth, and a cleft staked its claim in the middle of his chin.
The whole effect was engaging and warm and, Julia couldn’t keep from noticing, directed entirely at her.
He saw her.
She flashed him a smile of gratitude. “Chivalry’s alive after all. Thanks so much.” She edged past the first two seats to the window seat she’d been assigned, and her heart launched into a three-two beat when he settled into the middle seat beside her.
She didn’t even try to hold back the smile that sprang onto her lips. The next eight hours might prove to be very interesting.
“I’m Lancelot, by the way.”
Lancelot? Julia choked on the laugh that bubbled in her throat. Poor guy. “Do people call you Lance?”
“No, they call me Howard.” A twinkle in the jade irises hinted she was being toyed with.
She ran her thoughts back to her chivalry comment. “Well, my real name is Guinevere, but my friends call me Julia.”
“Then Julia it is.” His face broke once again into a pleasant mass of dimples and grin wrinkles that somehow enhanced his features rather than detracted from them.
Men were so lucky.