He didnât want to play it safe now.
Dave slipped his arms around Kara and drew her to him ever so carefully, a nurseryman with a new cactus he was still trying to determine how best to handle without getting pierced.
âI remember,â he replied, his voice low, his mind already trying to figure out how to survive the turbulent ride looming ahead.
Part of him was fervently hoping that the impact of that first kiss was, for some unknown reason, all in his imagination.
Part of him was hoping it hadnât been.
Dearest Reader,
People are always asking me where I get my ideas for stories. Most of the time, they are knitted together from bits and pieces that come from newspapers, magazine interviews, TV shows and conversations around me. Itâs usually hard to trace back an idea to its origin. Thatâs not the case this time. This story has its roots in handwritten letters, then typed ones and finally, e-mails, all of which have spanned over the last thirty-plus years.
I first met Nancy, my oldest young friend, in third grade. She was poised and pretty and I idolised her. Slowly, because I was shy back then, we became friends. We never stopped. I moved to California, she remained in New York. We wrote sporadically. And then we both became mothers at the same time. She had a son, I had a daughter. Hers was born in April, mine in July. And over the years, one or the other of us has wistfully said, âWhat if â¦?â Luckily, from our kidsâ point of view, there is not a chance in the world that our wistfulness will bear fruit since thereâs three thousand miles between the two homes. So, I did the next best thing. I imagined it on paper. And hopefully, you will be entertained (and for the record, if youâre wondering, neither one of us is going to tell our kids about this book).
Thank you for reading and, as ever, I wish you someone to love who loves you back.
Best,
Marie Ferrarella
âOh, câmon, Lisa, think about it. What have we got to lose?â
Maturity, for the most part, had been kind to Paulette Calhoun, leaving few of the customary telltale age lines on her face. Closing in on sixty, the tastefully dressed strawberry blonde with deep blue eyes leaned her still very trim body in, as if the proximity would add more weight to her urgings and win the other woman over.
Lisa Scarlatti, younger by three months, sat facing her lifelong friend across a black lacquer-top table for two. She held a cup of tea between her hands, the warmth just beginning to fade.
âWell, offhand, Iâd say our kids. If Dave so much as smells a romantic setup, quiet though he normally is, heâll read me the riot act. And, if memory serves, Iâm pretty sure that goes double for your independent, outspoken Kara.â
Laughter sparkled in Pauletteâs eyes. âThey wonât smell a setup because they know that we know better than to try one, which is the beauty of all this.â
Lisa frowned. Her heart fought with her brain. Since they lived a good sixty miles apart, she and Paulette got together for lunch several times a year. More often now that they both found themselves unavoidably and sadly unattached. Pauletteâs husband had died almost thirteen years ago, while Lisaâs had passed away after an accident eight years ago.
âI never thought of alienating my child as having anything to do with beauty,â she told Paulette. âFor heavenâs sake, Thomas and I put that boy through medical school. Iâm finally coming out from under that staggering debt. Let me enjoy Dave for five minutes before I do something that will have him renouncing me in the public square.â
Paulette rolled her eyes. âAnd here I thought I was the dramatic one. Daveâs not going to renounce you,â she insisted. The subject of setting up their children had been on her mind ever since sheâd heard about her second cousinâs overwhelming success in playing matchmaker for not just her daughter, but her friendsâ daughtersâand sonâas well. Hell, if Maizie could do it, she could, too. And so could Lisa.
âListen, this plan is perfect,â Paulette enthused. âYou said your nieceâs little boy has a birthday coming up, right?â
There was a trap here somewhere. Lisa knew Paulette too well for there not to be. âRight,â she replied cautiously.
âAnd what, according to you, does Melissaâs adorable son, Ryan, want more than anything in the whole world for his birthday?â
Lisa sighed. She saw where this was going.
ââThe Kalico Kidâ video game,â Lisa finally said because Paulette was obviously waiting.
Nodding, Paulette asked, âAnd what is impossible to get?â
Why were they playing this game? ââThe Kalico Kidâ video game.â