Let's just be glad... by Joe DeRozier #WindowOvertheSink

Welcome to one of my favorite times of year, and welcome back to the Window--it's my intent to post once a week again. I hope you still visit and enjoy. If you have a good post for us, please get with me so I can use it here and we can all enjoy it. Joe DeRozier did just that this week. I love this, and I'm sure you will, too. - Liz

Joe and Kathy DeRozier

My wife and I had a date on Saturday afternoon. Saturday is the only day I really have time to enjoy her company. I have time to de-frazzle from the morning in the bakery and I'm not overwhelmed by what awaits me at the donut shop Sunday. I get paroled from work early on Saturdays and go in just a couple hours later (4 a.m) than usual on Sundays. To some, that schedule would seem terrible, but when you have so little personal time, every hour is precious.. But I digress. We enjoy a lot of places to go out to eat, but we have a special tug for the Twenty's restaurant in Charlie Creek. We were married there and the atmosphere at this place is nothing short of spectacular... the memorabilia from times gone by, really relax me... I swear I was born in the wrong era... As my bride and I are talking and enjoying some delicious cuisine, I couldn't help but to notice two older couples dining together. It was hard to tell their decade in life, because while their hair and some wrinkles told the tale of a certain era, their smiles, laughter, and teasing of each other, made them forever youthful. I couldn't help watching them ... their familiarity with each other... Were they related, perhaps? Coworkers from a lifetime ago before retirement? Did they share vacations? Did they raise families at the same time...maybe grandchildren...comfort each other during passing of loved ones? Did they visit each other on holidays? There was a bond. It was a closeness that could be felt. They were comfortable in their roles in this relationship. One man was the storyteller. I caught very little of the stories, but he spellbound the rest. He made everyone laugh often, but it was the laughter of his wife that I noticed. It was genuine. It was prideful. She was proud to love and be loved by this man that could regale a story with such elegance. The other man listened intently, but was very comfortable to humorously interject. The whole table participated in the dialogue... There were so many smiles. A lot of eye contact... ...a lot of love. When they arose to leave, there was a spring to their steps. They inadvertently touched while jostling chairs, and reaching for their wallets, but there was no awkwardness. They epitomize what I so want...what everyone wants. Those friends and family in life, that you feel so comfortable with... the love, the laughter and the closeness... that you're genuinely excited to be around. I wonder if they knew I was watching... I wonder if they know how blessed they are... I wonder if they have any idea of the example they set... ... I hope so

Joan Reeves: Thursday3Some: 3 Delightful Romance Novels

Joan Reeves: Thursday3Some: 3 Delightful Romance Novels: Thrusday3Some is back, and it's about time! Life has just been too darn busy this year. The history of Thursday3Some dates back...

Cover reveal and giveaway

Title: The Healing Summer

Author: Liz Flaherty

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: October 30, 2019

When Steven Elliott accidentally rides his bike into Carol Whitney's car at the cemetery, their out-of-control lives take on new and exciting possibilities. Long friendship wends its way into something deeper and feelings neither of them expected to experience again enrich their days and nights. But what will happen when the long summer ends and Steven leaves their hometown to once again take up his prestigious career as a cardio-thoracic surgeon and Carol loses the dream of the family, commitment, and future that she's allowed herself to want?

Life gets in the way before either Steven or Carol are ready, and they wonder if their romance will fade and fall with the leaves when hot days turn to the briskness of autumn.

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“Were you hunting me?” She should have waited to get her breath back—she sounded like a vamp from one of 1940s movies that were on really late at night when you couldn’t sleep. “When we met on the road, I mean.”

“Huh?” He sounded nonplused, and she felt like cheering. She wasn’t the only one who’d been kissed stupid—he wasn’t doing so well, either. “Oh, yeah.”

“Yeah?” She turned away, starting to put away the abandoned groceries. If she couldn’t see him, she would neither hyperventilate nor jump his bones. Maybe.

“Want to?”

Want to what? That? Did she want to? Hell, yes, she wanted to. But they were just barely aware of each other, and he was going back to his big city life and big city friends in a matter of weeks. Although he’d probably spend some weekends at Miss Abigail’s and possibly even open an office in Peacock the way he’d mentioned, he wasn’t good relationship material.

Even more, in Carol’s mind and she thought probably in his, he was still Promise’s. The thought sobered her and stilled her hands. Oh, Promise.

“What did you…why did you want me?” she asked, trying to insert some sense into the conversation, some mental cold water on her still-shrieking girl parts.

“Dinner.” He pulled his hair back into a band he took from his pocket—he never seemed to run out of ponytail holders. “Would you like to go to dinner? And shop for cars? I know you’re not going to the beach this summer, but I’ll buy you a girly drink with an umbrella in it and you can pretend.” He ran a finger lightly down the strap of her dress. “You can wear one of these dresses, although probably not this one, since I seem to have decorated it with sawdust and sweat. Oh, wait.” He held up both hands to stave off an answer. “Grace told me it was rude to suggest someone wear something in particular, so I take that back. Wear whatever you like.”

“When and why did Grace tell you that?” She refilled their tea glasses and handed him his. She took a long drink, hoping the cold brew would serve to cool down her insides.

Well, that wasn’t working—she was pretty sure she felt them sizzle.

“Thursday. She was going to afternoon tea over at the Old Farts Home, something they’ve apparently decided to have every Thursday. You stay for it, too, don’t you, after you get their hair and nails all prettied up? Anyway, she had on her overalls, complete with grass-stained knees, and I said, very politely, ‘Holy shit, Grace, are you wearing those?’ She didn’t respond well.”

“I’m amazed.” She shook her head.

“I was, too,” he said righteously. “I was only trying to help.”

Even if she could have resisted the hormonal storm that had overtaken her kitchen, Carol had no defense against his laughing dark eyes. “Okay, thanks. I’d like to go to dinner. And you’re sure it’s all right if I wear whatever I please?”

His gusting sigh should have made the kitchen curtains stir. “Yes. Fine. Can I use your phone to call Dillon and ask him to bring my truck up the hill?”

“Sure, or we can walk down if you’d rather.” Carol was surprised at how much she was enjoying the walking these days, especially when it was downhill.

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“No.” She grinned at him. “But you have to take a shower. I do have some standards on dates.” She gasped as soon as the words left her mouth. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t a date. We’re friends who kissed…accidentally. This is dinner, not a date. Right?”

He smiled, a slow and lazy expression that turned her stomach over. And over again. “Wrong.” He came over and kissed her once more. Thoroughly. “It’s a date.”

Retired from the post office and married to Duane for…a really long time, USA Today bestselling author Liz Flaherty has had a heart-shaped adult life, populated with kids and grands and wonderful friends. She admits she can be boring, but hopes her curiosity about everyone and everything around her keeps her from it. She likes traveling and quilting and reading. And she loves writing.

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