Take It from Me: A Novel, page 1
PRAISE FOR IN THE CARDS
“Infused with . . . fresh detail. Between the sweetness of the relationship and the summery beach setting, romance fans will find this a warming winter read.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Fans will love the frank honesty of her characters. [Beck’s] scenery is richly detailed and the story engaging.”
—RT Book Reviews
“[A] realistic and heartwarming story of redemption and love . . . Beck’s understanding of interpersonal relationships and her flawless prose make for a believable romance and an entertaining read.”
—Booklist
PRAISE FOR WORTH THE WAIT
“[A] poignant and heartwarming story of young love and redemption and will literally make your heart ache . . . Jamie Beck has a real talent for making the reader feel the sorrow, regret, and yearning of this young character.”
—Fresh Fiction
PRAISE FOR WORTH THE TROUBLE
“Beck takes readers on a journey of self-reinvention and risky investments, in love and in life . . . With strong family ties, loyalty, playful banter, and sexual tension, Beck has crafted a beautiful second-chances story.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
PRAISE FOR SECRETLY HERS
“[I]n Beck’s ambitious, uplifting second Sterling Canyon contemporary . . . [c]onflicting views and family drama lay the foundation for emotional development in this strong Colorado-set contemporary.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Witty banter and the deepening of the characters and their relationship, along with some unexpected plot twists and a lovable supporting cast . . . will keep the reader hooked . . . A smart, fun, sexy, and very contemporary romance.”
—Kirkus Reviews
PRAISE FOR WORTH THE RISK
“An emotional read that will leave you reeling at times and hopeful at others.”
—Books and Boys Book Blog
PRAISE FOR UNEXPECTEDLY HERS
“Character-driven, sweet, and chock-full of interesting secondary characters.”
—Kirkus Reviews
PRAISE FOR BEFORE I KNEW
“A tender romance rises from the tragedy of two families—a must read!”
—Robyn Carr, #1 New York Times bestselling author
“Jamie Beck’s deeply felt novel hits all the right notes, celebrating the power of forgiveness, the sweetness of second chances, and the heady joy of reaching for a dream. Don’t miss this one!”
—Susan Wiggs, #1 New York Times bestselling author
“Before I Knew kept me totally enthralled as two compassionate, relatable characters, each in search of forgiveness and fulfillment, turn a recipe for heartache into a story of love, hope, and some really good menus!”
—Shelley Noble, New York Times bestselling author of Whisper Beach
PRAISE FOR ALL WE KNEW
“A moving story about the flux of life and the steadfastness of family.”
—Publishers Weekly
“An impressively crafted and deftly entertaining read from first page to last.”
—Midwest Book Review
“All We Knew is compelling, heartbreaking, and emotional.”
—Harlequin Junkie
PRAISE FOR JOYFULLY HIS
“A quick and sweet read that is perfect for the holidays.”
—Harlequin Junkie
PRAISE FOR WHEN YOU KNEW
“[A]n opposites-attract romance with heart.”
—Harlequin Junkie
PRAISE FOR THE MEMORY OF YOU
“[Beck] deepens a typical story about first loves reuniting by exploring the aftermath of a violent act. Readers will root for an ending that repairs this couple’s past hurt.”
—Booklist
“Beck’s portrayals of divorce and trauma are keen . . . Readers will be caught up in their journey toward healing and romance.”
—Publishers Weekly
“The Memory of You is heartbreaking, emotional, entertaining, and a unique second-chance romance.”
—Harlequin Junkie
PRAISE FOR THE PROMISE OF US
“Beck’s depiction of trauma, loss, friendship, and family resonates deeply. A low-key small-town romance unflinching in its portrayal of the complexities of friendship and family, and the joys and sorrows they bring.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“A fully absorbing and unfailingly entertaining read.”
—Midwest Book Review
PRAISE FOR THE WONDER OF NOW
“The Wonder of Now is emotional, it is uplifting, it is heartbreaking, but ultimately shows the reader the best of humanity in a heartfelt story.”
—The Nerd Daily
PRAISE FOR IF YOU MUST KNOW
“Beck expertly captures the bickering between sisters, the pain of regret, and the thorny path to forgiveness. With well-realized secondary characters . . . and believable surprises peppered throughout, Beck’s emotional tale rings true.”
—Publishers Weekly
“[Beck’s] heartwarming novel explores the sisterly bond with a touch of romance and mystery.”
—Booklist
PRAISE FOR TRUTH OF THE MATTER
“Beck spins a poignant, multigenerational coming-of-age tale as these three women navigate their identities, dreams, and love lives. Complex and introspective, this is by turns heart-wrenching and infectiously hopeful.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
PRAISE FOR FOR ALL SHE KNOWS
“Women’s fiction readers and series fans will be pleased with this story of friendship, family, and forgiveness.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Like Little Fires Everywhere and Big Little Lies, this novel tackles the complicated dynamic between mothers.”
—The Hollywood Reporter
“An inherently reader-engaging and impressively original story of friendship, hardship, love, tragedy, and redemption.”
—Midwest Book Review
“For All She Knows is a must-read for book clubs! Jamie Beck’s latest novel is both an insightful examination of modern-day parenting mores, and a poignant reminder of the importance of friendship and forgiveness.”
—Brenda Novak, New York Times bestselling author
“Jamie Beck deftly crafts a riveting tale of parenthood, marriage, and friendship around a tragic event that unravels the threads that hold everything dear for two friends: their families and each other. As heart-wrenching as it is inspiring, For All She Knows reminds us that forgiveness is the first step to heal and Beck captures this brilliantly. A spring read every book club should pick up!”
—Kerry Lonsdale, Wall Street Journal and Washington Post bestselling author
PRAISE FOR THE HAPPY ACCIDENTS
“This story is an ode to girl power, making mistakes, and following your dreams. We’ll race you to the bookstore.”
—SheKnows
“Beautifully moving, masterful storytelling that weaves the nuances of relationships and finding yourself while facing the intricacies of life-changing decisions and their consequences.”
—Priscilla Oliveras, USA Today bestselling author
“Jamie Beck has moved from a heavy hitter in romance to a sure thing in women’s fiction, and The Happy Accidents shows why she can do both. In this novel, three old friends make a pact that changes everything . . . and may just be the best decision they ever made. You won’t regret your decision to one-click this book.”
—Liz Talley, USA Today bestselling author
ALSO BY JAMIE BECK
The St. James Novels
Worth the Wait
Worth the Trouble
Worth the Risk
The Sterling Canyon Novels
Accidentally Hers
Secretly Hers
Unexpectedly Hers
Joyfully His
The Cabot Novels
Before I Knew
All We Knew
When You Knew
The Sanctuary Sound Novels
The Memory of You
The Promise of Us
The Wonder of Now
The Potomac Point Novels
If You Must Know
Truth of the Matter
For All She Knows
Stand-Alone Novels
In the Cards
The Happy Accidents
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2022 by Write Ideas, LLC
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Montlake, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781542032391
ISBN-10: 1542032393
Cover design by Caroline Teagle Johnson
To my beloved children, Kayla and Ford, with the hope that they remain open to surprising friendships and differing perspectives.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE WENDY
CHAPTER TWO HARPER
CHAPTER THREE WENDY
CHAPTER FOUR HARPER
/> CHAPTER FIVE WENDY
CHAPTER SIX HARPER
CHAPTER SEVEN WENDY
CHAPTER EIGHT HARPER
CHAPTER NINE WENDY
CHAPTER TEN HARPER
CHAPTER ELEVEN WENDY
CHAPTER TWELVE HARPER
CHAPTER THIRTEEN WENDY
CHAPTER FOURTEEN HARPER
CHAPTER FIFTEEN WENDY
CHAPTER SIXTEEN HARPER
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN WENDY
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN HARPER
CHAPTER NINETEEN WENDY
CHAPTER TWENTY HARPER
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE WENDY
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO HARPER
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE WENDY
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
BOOK CLUB QUESTIONS
EXCERPT: THE BEAUTY OF RAIN
CHAPTER ONE AMY FOX WALSH
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CHAPTER ONE
WENDY
A Saturday morning in early October
New Canaan, Connecticut
While my husband is upstairs sleeping in, I climb onto the second shelf of the built-in unit flanking the living room fireplace and peer through the quarter-round window to spy on whoever is moving into the Durbins’ house today. Discovering other people’s secrets doesn’t make mine less shameful, but it does make me feel less alone. Intimate knowledge forms a bond even when the other person remains unaware. Of course, my husband knows of mine, but even he doesn’t know everything. And, God willing, he never will.
Nevertheless, I can’t say I’ll miss George Durbin. He isn’t neighborly—always seeking a way to extricate himself from conversations with me. Joe and I invited him to our Christmas open house and a summer cocktail party this past year, but he wasn’t interested. Come to think of it, George has never been interested in much, which is probably why his wife, Peg—whom I do miss terribly—ran all the way to California last year.
Peg’s sarcasm made me laugh. She was also the queen of unplanned get-togethers. The first time she asked me over, she didn’t put on airs like so many others. She simply kicked off her shoes, uncorked a bottle of inexpensive wine, handed me a glass, then proceeded to gossip about the insurance company office where she worked—conversations that, over time, we called episodes of As the Policies Turn. The important point is that Peg was a true friend, not a casual acquaintance from one of my volunteer committees. A true friend is a rare and precious thing.
The November day she told me she was leaving was dark in more ways than one. Her declaration landed like a fist to my jaw—a rejection of me as much as of George. I’d thought I knew her, but apparently she’d held something back just as I’d been doing. Envy deepened the bruise. Not that I want to flee my home, but her courage at our stage of life cracked open something uneasy in me.
I blame that and the second bottle of wine we guzzled for sparking my compulsive urge, a constant source of turmoil that I’ve had to manage since my late teens. Until Peg’s announcement, I’d rarely slipped up since quitting therapy years ago. Yet suddenly there I was, sneaking the wineglass charm into my purse when she wasn’t looking. That little item is now tucked away in the drawer beneath my feet—hidden but tangible, just like my shame.
I’m about to give up my lookout when two youngish women and a long-haired young man tumble out of the large U-Haul, each straining to carry a rolled carpet. Cupping my hands around my face, I press my nose to the glass to get a closer look. We’ve never had renters on this street. What kind of people would lease a home with peeling paint and neglected flower beds littered with dead rhododendron? Such a shame, that. It’d take so little effort for that Cape to look charming, with its expansive front porch and antique shutters.
“Whatcha you doin’ up there, Wendy?” my husband asks, yawning.
“Oh, Joe!” Startled, I fall backward against the end table that belonged to my great-grandmother, nearly knocking over our son Billy’s high school graduation photograph. My cheeks are hot as I tighten my silk robe’s belt. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people.”
“Hm.” He bestows a warm smile. “Interesting advice coming from the neighborhood spy.”
His genial wink eases the sting of embarrassment. He’s never judged my peccadilloes. They amuse him, which isn’t the worst thing. After all, no marriage survives without humor.
“I’m hardly spying.” I skirt around the end table to cross the living room. “I’m just curious. Did George tell you about his tenants? Are they a family?”
Children’s laughter would offset the otherwise dubious rental situation. How I miss those busy, happy days. The endless sticky hands and kisses. The invigorating rise and fall of my heart with each of my son’s victories and setbacks.
Now there is such silence.
Joe walks toward the kitchen, his iPad in hand, ready for his ninety-minute Saturday-morning ritual of downing three cups of coffee while reading the paper. “He didn’t say.”
Translation: Joe didn’t ask.
Eager for company, I follow him, although I’ve already had my coffee, eaten breakfast, and cleaned up my mess. We’ve been married twenty years, so he’s used to being shadowed. I’m a tracker. I like to ensure that he and Billy are safe, comfortable, and have what they need.
“Can I pour you a cup, too, hon?” he asks.
“No thanks.” I grab the sugar bowl, a teaspoon, and the creamer, and set them on the kitchen table while he finds a mug and pours his coffee. “Would you like some eggs?”
“Not hungry yet, thanks.” Joe sits and sweetens his drink, then turns his iPad cover into a stand for the device and proceeds to open the New York Times app. Before he begins reading, he asks, “What’s on your agenda today?”
It’s been roughly six weeks since we dropped Billy off at Colgate University. Forty-one days that feel like as many months. Not that Joe seems as affected by his absence. Then again, Joe’s life hasn’t undergone a wholesale change like mine.
Older friends swore that we’d revel in reclaiming our lives and spontaneity. I’m still waiting for that promise—one I clung to when hugging my son goodbye—to come true. While the details of our life before Billy are hazy, I treasure my early encounters with Joe’s effortless love and comfortable companionship—an ease that was a first for me.
“Want to drive up to Litchfield? We could hike around Lake Waramaug and then hit that winery.” I rest my chin on my fist.
“Would that make you happy?” He sips his drink, brows rising in question.
Happier than sitting here all day. “The leaves should be gorgeous.”
“Okay. We’ll drive up after lunch.” He nods and then turns his attention to the screen in front of him, falling silent.
I flex my hand and stare at my manicure, which is chipping thanks to the refinishing work I did on the Levys’ armoire last week, determined to brush aside the nagging thought that keeps poking at my figurative ribs. Is this all there is? How many times have I overheard women whining about one sort of midlife crisis or another and sworn to myself it wouldn’t happen to me? Sworn that I’d always be grateful that my married life was so much better than my childhood. And yet here I am, pestered by that irksome question for which I don’t have even a rhetorical answer.
With a sigh, I place my hands in my lap. Maybe I’ll swing through Burtis Nails after dropping my son’s care package at the post office; then perhaps I’ll pick up a small welcome gift for the new neighbors.
My gaze wanders back to my husband, whose forty-ninth birthday is coming up, not that you’d know it. Regular exercise keeps him trim. He has all his hair, too, although it’s graying pleasingly around the edges. The only change to those deep brown eyes—the kindest eyes I know—is that they’re bracketed now by deep smile lines.
He’s a content man. An honest and committed one who accepts our restricted social lives to help me avoid triggers. He first learned of my problem during our engagement, after I was arrested for palming a sample tube of lipstick at Nordstrom. I was sure the horror would send him running. When he bailed me out of jail, compassionately listened to my teary explanation of my compulsion, and then suggested therapy, I knew he was a keeper. Although I was fearful that confessing would lead to additional arrests, I was more afraid that Joe might end our engagement if I didn’t get help.
I should count myself lucky with him. I do, too, except for one recent and troubling change.
Glancing down at my nightgown—a pretty periwinkle silk negligee trimmed in cream-colored lace—I commit to seduction. As subtly as possible, I loosen the robe’s neckline to expose my pajamas’ lacy bodice as well as my cleavage. Twining a shoulder-length, highlighted lock of hair around my finger, I stretch my foot out beneath the table until it makes contact with Joe and then run it playfully up his shin.
