Love in a Nutshell - Janet Evanovich [52]
“I don’t know,” Rachel said. “It sounds like a date to me.”
Kate shook her head. “Trust me, it wasn’t. I’m not dating right now, anyway.”
“Why?” Maura asked.
“Maura! It’s none of our business,” Anne said. “But don’t let that stop you if you feel like answering, Kate.”
Kate laughed. She liked these women. In just minutes, she’d grown more comfortable with them than she was with her own sister, Bunny. Of course, Kate wasn’t in the position of constantly being held up for comparison to the Culhane sisters, as she was to Bunny. And despite the goofy name her sister chose to go by in lieu of Barbara, Bunny was one fierce competitor: top of her class, rainmaker in her law firm, and very strategically married. Kate had never measured up especially well.
And Mary Culhane’s story of Kate’s periwinkle-stationery-loving mother dancing on a tabletop had been a mindblower. Her family had been all about proper manners and proper clothing and proper country clubs and schools back in Grosse Pointe. The idea of Barb Appleton table dancing was as improbable as Kate becoming an astronaut.
Right now, Kate might as well have been on Mars. No, not Mars. This place was warmer and a whole lot more hospitable, but still just as foreign.
“I got divorced about a year ago. After that, I decided until I get the rest of my life in order, dating can wait. Plus, I tend to make some pretty atrocious decisions when it comes to men. I’ve got a whole lot of stupid to figure out.”
“Matt’s not an atrocious decision,” Lizzie said.
Kate gave a little involuntary smile. Lizzie was right. “Well, anyway, my life definitely isn’t in order.”
Matt returned from the kitchen with his beer and a tall glass of cola for Kate, then rounded the table to take the open chair at its head. “That’s my motto: Matt Culhane—he’s not atrocious.”
Lizzie laughed. “So just how much of our conversation did you catch?”
“Enough.” He took a swallow of his beer. “And to save Kate further embarrassment—and you guys a whole lot of extra snooping around—I do have a few business things going on in Traverse City. Remember that Tropicana Motor Inn that Mom and Dad would take us to?”
“Yes,” all the sisters chimed.
“I just wrapped up a purchase and renovation deal on it.”
Anne raised her eyebrows in amazement. “You bought the motel with the hokey flamingos painted on it? Now, that is an atrocious decision.”
Maura scowled. “I like those flamingos!”
“So do I,” Matt said. “The place was sitting vacant, so I picked it up. And I’m just sharing this with you so you’ll get off Kate’s case about the two of us dating. And no more commentary about my flamingos or my dating choices, or I’ll start dredging up your old dates.”
Everyone was silent. No one wanted to discuss their dating history. It was Lizzie who changed the subject.
“Hey, isn’t that annual beer festival thing in Royal Oak coming up in a couple of weeks? You should take Kate along.”
Kate’s somewhat homesick heart jumped. “Royal Oak? Really? I used to live there.”
Matt nodded. “I remember you mentioning that.”
He turned to Lizzie. “I’m going, but I have my usual road crew coming along.”
“The groupies?” Lizzie asked.
“They’re not groupies,” Matt said, then gazed at his beer’s label. Kate supposed he was just admiring his dog’s smiling likeness.
“They follow you from event to event on their own money for the privilege of pouring your beer and hanging your banner. If that doesn’t make them groupies, I don’t know what does.”
“There is the sexual connotation,” Rachel said. “I don’t think that applies.” She paused, then added, “My university is teaching a class on the Grateful Dead as part of its cultural anthropology curriculum. Groupies would be an interesting topic, too.”
“Rachel is working on her master’s degree,” Anne said to Kate.
Matt looked just a little annoyed. “All the same, they’re not groupies. The thought of Harley and Junior as groupies could mess up a perfectly normal guy for life.”
“I could pour your beer and hang your banner,” Kate said.
“Actually, you can’t pour