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Chin to chest, Juliet tried assessing the change. “You think?”
“Beautiful,” a man’s voice pronounced.
Her head jerked up, a flush washing her body in heat. There went the pale problem, too, thanks to Noah. He’d come from the direction of the shop’s small kitchen, carrying a silver beverage urn. Only a few hours had passed since he’d left her house, but it wasn’t the afternoon she was recalling.
Instead, she was remembering the night before, when they’d filled the big tub in the master bath with hot water, bubbles, and then themselves. Hands slick with soap and water, she’d explored every inch of his skin in detail, even tracing the tattooed name, date of birth, and serial number inked on his sleek side under his arm, until he’d laughed and caught her hand. Then he’d reciprocated by inspecting every curve and fold of her flesh.
Now, his face clear of telltale expression—Was she the only one who couldn’t forget the sight of his hands sliding over her breasts to brush away the bubbles?—Noah just stared back at her. Then he quirked an eyebrow, and a shiver tickled down her center like the stroke of a calloused fingertip.
Nikki snickered. “Wouldn’t I like to be a fly on the wall of her thoughts.”
“Oh, stop,” Cassandra scolded. “No teasing tonight.”
“I don’t think it’s my teasing that’s on our big sister’s mind,” Nikki retorted. “But I don’t want to ruffle your celibate sensibilities, Froot Loop, so let’s get back to work.”
With a laugh, she ducked the skein of soft yarn that Cassandra tossed at her, and it sailed through the air only to land with a plop against the cardboard-backed photo Gabe was lugging in.
Everyone stared at the blowup of Wayne’s photograph—the same that was on the back cover of the book. The colossal-sized blowup. In life, Wayne had been a lean five foot ten. In this cardboard version, he was closer to nine feet tall.
“Gabe!” Cassandra exclaimed. “What were you thinking? Inflate that thing and it could be one of the balloons for the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.”
Gabe propped it against a wall. “What’s wrong with it?”
Astounded, Juliet stared into the one-dimensional eyes of her much-enlarged husband. Then she laughed. “Oh, my God.” Her hand over her mouth, she couldn’t stop more laughter from bubbling up.
The others watched her in wary silence.
Nervous hysteria, she figured they were thinking. It made her laugh even more. “No, no,” she said, when she could breathe. “I’m sorry, it’s just too good. Wayne would certainly approve.”
Cassandra and Nikki exchanged another worried glance.
“Really. Noah, remember the flat-screen TV discussion?”
He frowned. “He wanted seventy inches. You thought—what?—thirty-two?”
She laughed again, she couldn’t help herself.
Noah appeared perplexed. “I remember you snickering then, too, now that I think of it. What’s so funny about that?”
Juliet looked over at her sisters. “The TV room at that house is something like twelve-by-twelve feet.” Then she glanced at Noah. “But both you and Wayne insisted that bigger was far, far better.”
Cassandra grinned. “And they say women think size matters.”
Jay walked through the door at that moment, and his gaze snagged on the massive cardboard likeness. “Whoa,” he said, taking a step back. Then he smiled in approval. “Looks perfect, Gabe.”
When the three sisters failed to hold back their laughter, he frowned. “What?”
Looking bewildered, Gabe and Noah shook their heads and Cassandra, Nikki, and Juliet just laughed some more.
Perfect was right though, Juliet thought, as she continued smiling through the last of the party setup. The couches had been pushed to the edges of the room and they unfolded chairs to form rows that faced a podium backed by Wayne’s hulking photograph. A table at the rear of the shop had been stocked with refreshments. The register was manned by a clerk from a local bookstore and she was surrounded by stacks of General Matters.
The party preparations looked perfect and the friendship and laughter Juliet shared with the people around her was going to make tonight her chance to sail through this turning point. The event would mark the moment she’d let go of her grief, she’d decided. Of course she’d always mourn Wayne and the time together they would never have, but after tonight she’d be able to move on from the past years of illness and sadness.
Across the room, Noah lifted a small table to shoulder level, the muscles in his back flexing as he carried it over a row of chairs to reposition it on the other side of the room. Tonight she’d start saying her good-byes to Noah, too. When he left her—and it would be soon, just yesterday he’d told her he’d taken a position in the county D.A.’s office—she’d be able to let him go as well.
