It had certainly seemed that way. But there were also marital undercurrents that might have been blocking communication, and I wasn’t sure how to clear the block.

Tabitha whirled around and looked at me. “Tomorrow. Tomorrow you’ll find something on that bike club ride that will blow this whole thing open. Wide, wide open. Then he’ll have to listen to me.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” I said, trying to sound sincere. “Tomorrow.”

*   *   *

Rafe and I went to Petoskey to spend Friday evening with a couple he’d known in college who were north for the fall colors. We ate dinner at Palette Bistro, walked along the waterfront of Little Traverse Bay, and ended the evening with a nightcap at the Noggin Room.

It was a wonderful night, full of laughter and stories about Rafe that I’d never heard before. I strongly suspected that I’d never heard those stories because they made him look bad. When he’d asked me if we were still going to get married, now that I knew all about him, I’d given him a long, soft kiss that had his friends whooping with delight.

“She’s going to keep you, Niswander!” the male side of the couple said. “You’re the luckiest man alive.” His wife gave me a wide smile and I kissed Rafe again, because I knew that I was the lucky one.

Saturday morning, I rolled out of bed bleary-eyed and wholly unready for anything more than oatmeal and a cup of weak coffee.

“Mrr,” Eddie said.

“Not so loud,” I whispered.

“Mrr!”

I winced and shook my head. Instantly regretted doing so. It wasn’t that I’d had so very many adult beverages to drink; it was more that we’d stayed out much later than my regular bedtime, and that never agreed with me.

“You’re not as funny as you think you are,” I said, but from the look my cat gave me, it was obvious that he disagreed with me.

I felt better after a hot shower and the food and caffeine, and by the time I got to the location posted by Terry as the bike club’s starting point, my body and spirits had recovered to the point that I was happy with the world in general, and everybody I met in particular.

“Morning,” my young friend Rosalind said. “You seem really wide awake.”

I smiled at her as she helped me wrestle my bike out of my car’s trunk. “It’s early October, the fall colors are gorgeous, it’s warm, and there’s not a cloud to be seen. Look at that blue!”

Rosalind, who I was learning was not a morning person, gave the sky a cursory glance. “It’s nice enough, I guess.” She sighed. “Don’t know why my grandpa needed to start this ride so early. I mean, afternoon would be just as good.”