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“That’s probably the way he handles the job. They deal with such a range of problems in the emergency room. I know because my Darren used to be an EMT and the stories he told would make your toes curl.”

Darren was Glenys’s oldest son. He lived in California and Glenys hadn’t seen him since the funeral.

Harriet often wondered how it was that families came to be so scattered. It felt wrong to her. She longed to belong to a big family who lived close enough to be in and out of each other’s lives all the time. Drop in for coffee? Yes, please. Find yourself cooking dinner for twelve? Harriet couldn’t think of anything better. This Christmas Fliss would be spending Christmas Day with Seth’s family in their home in upstate New York, her brother Daniel was traveling with Molly to see her father for the first time in ages and their mother was traveling the world. Harriet was the only one not traveling anywhere.

She’d be in Manhattan. On her own. Perusing the glittering store windows. On her own. Ice-skating. On her own. Eating Christmas dinner. On her own.

She watched as Glenys forced down another mouthful of omelet. “What are you doing for Christmas Day?”

“Staying in and waiting for Santa.”

Harriet grinned. “Do you want to come and wait for him in my apartment? I’m a good cook.”

“Well, I know that.” Glenys took another mouthful of omelet. “Are you inviting the handsome doctor?”

“No, I’m definitely not inviting the handsome doctor. Judging from the questions he asked me, he thought I was either a hooker or an addict.” And she didn’t blame him for that. It hadn’t been her best evening and her two hours spent in the waiting room of the emergency room hadn’t enhanced it.

“They get a lot of those in the emergency room too. I bet you were a breath of fresh air. Show me your ankle.”

“I can’t. It’s buried under four layers of wool because it’s cold out there.”

“But he was attractive?”

Harriet sighed. “Yes, he was attractive and yes part of me wonders why I can’t meet someone like him in real life.”

“The ER is about as real as it gets.”

“You know what I mean. In a situation that could actually end in a date. Not that it would work out because if it ever happened I’d be too shy to open my mouth. I can’t get past that first awkward meeting stage.”

“You say plenty to me.”

“But I’ve known you for years. I feel relaxed with you. Most men aren’t willing to stick around for that long while I get comfortable enough to actually engage in conversation.” She put her fork down. “I need to find a way to skip the ‘getting to know you’ part.”

“That’s why so many of the best marriages happen between friends. People who have known each other forever. Friends to lovers. It’s my favorite theme in books and movies.”

“It sounds like a great theory, but unfortunately I don’t have any male friends I’ve known for thirty years who might be willing to marry me.”

“Didn’t your brother have any friends?”

“They always hit on my sister. I was the quiet one.”

“Oh, honey, quiet can be good. Quiet doesn’t mean you don’t have important things to say. Just that you might take your time saying them.”

“Maybe. But most people don’t wait around long enough to hear it.”

“Are you trying to tell me you’ve never had boyfriends?”

“I’ve had a few. Couple of boys in college. Uneventful and definitely not exciting. Then I dated the accountant who moved into the apartment above ours.”

“And how was that?”

> “He seemed interested in every figure but mine,” Harriet said gloomily. “And since then—do you count the guy at Molly’s Salsa dancing class she tried to set me up with?”

“I don’t know. Do you think he counts?”

“We danced twice. I enjoyed it because dancing meant I didn’t have to talk to him. I did warn you that my dating history isn’t impressive.” She watched as Glenys ate the omelet, each mouthful slower than the last. She knew that since Charlie died Glenys had to force herself to eat. Force herself to get up in the morning. Force herself to get dressed. “Do you have a warm coat and gloves? I’m going to take Harvey out for a short walk, and you’re coming with me. No arguments.”

“You’re supposed to walk my dog, not care for me.”


Tags: Sarah Morgan From Manhattan with Love Romance