The Red Hat Society's Domestic Goddess Read Free Page B

how tarnished it got. “I always make too much.” Considering she lived alone. Like he now did.
    The dog yipped again, dancing around, eager to resume their walk, and reminding Millie that Charles wasn’t as alone as she
     was. Maybe she should get a pet; she wouldn’t have to worry about how to talk to one of them. Even Kim had a cat, although
     she swore she wasn’t keeping it; she’d recently inherited it from the elderly lady who had lived in the unit next to hers.
    But Millie didn’t need a pet; she had Steven now. Flustered over her near-collision with Charles, she had almost forgotten.
    “You don’t need to keep doing this,” Charles said, his gaze on the dog, not her. Above the beard, she noticed a slight reddish
     tint to his skin.
He
had nothing to be embarrassed about.
    “It’s what neighbors do,” she insisted. Especially at Hilltop. Despite the vast acreage it covered on the hill overlooking
     Grand Rapids, Michigan, the condominium complex was a tight-knit community. She’d certainly gotten her share of sympathy casseroles
     after Bruce had passed away. While she hadn’t always appreciated the tastes since she was a critical cook, she had always
     appreciated the gesture. But it was too bad everyone hadn’t used recipes from the Red Hat Society cookbook, like she always
     did.
    He shrugged. “Maybe. But—”
    She reached out, touching his arm much like she had Steven’s earlier. She meant it as a reassuring gesture. Instead she felt
     that disturbing little electrical charge again. “It gets better,” she assured him. “It takes time, but eventually it won’t
     hurt as much.”
    He sighed. “It’s not as if I didn’t see it coming. Guess I just didn’t want to face up to it.”
    His wife’s death?
    It had happened while he and his wife were in Arizona. Although Charles was young, probably the same age as Millie, he’d already
     retired, and he and his wife had split their time between condos: summer and fall in Grand Rapids and winter and spring in
     Phoenix. But this year he’d come home early, in spring, and alone.
    Millie hadn’t even known that his wife was sick, but then Mrs. Moelker hadn’t exactly been an easy womanto get close to. And Millie had rarely spoken to Charles; they’d exchange hellos when they’d bumped into each other at the
     community center but that was all.
    “I’m sorry,” she said. Now that he had started talking, she didn’t want him to stop. Steven could wait for his briefcase.
    “We weren’t married that long, you know,” he confided, with a resigned sigh. “I’ve been a bachelor most my life. I can survive
     being a bachelor again.”
    “That’s a good attitude,” she said.
    “Just wish she would have taken the dog,” he added.
    To her grave?
    “But there’s nothing wrong with the dog!” Millie had
read
about some people having their pets cremated with them. There were all kinds of eccentrics in the world; apparently Charles
     Moelker was one of them.
    “There’s nothing wrong with Ellen’s new husband, either. I don’t believe he’s allergic to dogs.”
    “What?” Millie asked. “Ellen’s new husband?”
    “Yes,” he said. His brows, untouched by gray unlike his beard, arched in confusion. “Where did you think she was?”
    “Dead.”
    She felt like a fool the minute she admitted it. Here she’d been thinking his wife was dead and instead she’d just divorced
     him. Served Millie right for listening to Mrs. Ryers, Hilltop’s grapevine.
    It didn’t help Millie’s embarrassment that Charles was laughing so hard tears streamed from the blue eyes that had apparently
     addled whatever sense Millie had.
    “You thought she was dead,” he finally managed togasp. “That explains the casseroles. They were pity casseroles!”
    “Sympathy casseroles,” she insisted, hating to think of them the way he had. But he’d only just dubbed them that. What had
     he thought they were before?
    Heat rushed to her face. Oh, no, he