miles away!”
“Yes. I heard you the first time. That’s the point.”
“Away from me!” Ellen wailed.
“Well, there is that.” Yes. She would miss her friends. “But I’ll e-mail you. All the time. I’ll nag and moan and whine and complain, just like normal. You won’t even notice I’m gone.”
“Bah! Why Alaska? There are men in Alaska, you know. There are men everywhere, thank God.”
“I wanted to go to a different environment for a while, get to know different people. Here I won’t have my well-intentioned friends to send me on horror dates, no relatives to look at me with sad eyes and talk about marriage and babies—see why this is perfect?”
“You’ll make new friends who’ll be just as eager to help you find true love. You’ll be in the same situation within a month. This does not solve a thing.”
“I’m telling everybody I’m already married. I’ve already set things in motion.” A ring. She needed to get a ring. And find a gossipy neighbor to do the job. Jordan didn’t seem the type.
“Oh, really? And where’s your fictional husband? You keep him up in the attic?”
“This is the brilliant part. He’s on an oil rig somewhere off the coast of Siberia and is only home for a few weeks every six months.”
“Siberia?”
Hailey grimaced. Why did everybody say Siberia in that tone of voice? “Yup.”
“Why Siberia?”
“I don’t know. It was the first thing that came to mind. Oil rig—Siberia. Maybe I saw something about it in one of those Discovery documentaries I watch when I can’t sleep.”
“Did the documentary show lots of hunky guys on those oil rigs?”
“I don’t remember. But now it has one. My husband, Robert.”
“Robert?”
“Yes. Robert.”
“Are you nuts? Would you seriously marry a guy who was on the other side of the world most of the time? What kind of relationship is this anyway?”
“That’s not really relevant, is it? He’s not real. This is fiction.”
Ellen snorted. “Very creative. I need a drink. Does Siberia even have a coast?”
“Of course it does! It’s huge. It has to have a coast.”
“A real coast, or just a frozen chunk of ice?”
There was an awkward silence filled with mutual embarrassment over their geographical shortcomings. “Sure it has a coast,” Hailey said uncertainly. “I mean, of course it doesn’t have sunny beaches, but it has to have a coast!”
“A husband in Siberia. How convenient. He’ll be right next door. All you have to do is cross the North Pole. But let’s get back to the important issue. Me.”
Hailey chuckled. “I’m going to miss you too, Ellen.”
“Who’s going to watch black-and-white movies with me Sunday evenings? Huh?”
They went a few more rounds before Hailey hung up, breathing a sigh of relief. Everybody would know soon, even those she hadn’t e-mailed.
CNN had nothing on Ellen when it came to broadcasting news.
The sticky notes were all over the house, everything from explaining eccentricities of the dishwasher to a motherly reminder to wear sunscreen in the winter sun. Hailey gathered them together as she came across them, smiling as a mental picture of Jane came together in her mind. She knew Jane was about her age, but with all the maternal advice littering the house she couldn’t help but picture a gray bun and pince-nez glasses. Maybe her suspicions about Jane and Jordan were way off base.
She plucked a note off the kitchen faucet and stuck it under a refrigerator magnet with a bunch of other kitchen messages. She’d probably be coming across additional ones for weeks to come.
The phone rang again, only minutes after she’d finished unpacking and was in the process of choosing a yellow note—marked frozen dinner to zap.
“Okay, you’ve had two hours. Ready to come home now?” Ellen asked without preamble.
Hailey laughed. “No.”
“Do you know the male to female ratio up in Alaska?”
“Um…no.”
“I just looked it up for you. It’s not in your favor. You’re much better off back here where there aren’t enough men to go around.”
“There may be more men here, but I’m not available here, and there is no one to contradict me on that. This is perfect.”
Ellen snorted. “This isn’t going to work. You must know, Hailey, that if you swear off men, you’re going to have Mr. Rights lining up on your doorstep. It’s a cosmic law.”
“Cosmic laws are meant to be broken.”
“Just remember, don’t walk away from true love if it comes knocking.”
“True love again?”
“I’m serious. Principles aren’t worth such a sacrifice. If the right guy comes knocking—don’t send him away without a test drive. Promise?”
There was a sound at the door. Hailey raised an eyebrow, for a second wondering if Ellen could have staged this. “Hold on, I think True Love may be knocking on my door right now.”
“I’ll hold,” Ellen replied, but Hailey took the cordless phone with her. She checked the peephole, but didn’t see anything. She opened the door, irritated to notice the lack of a security chain.
“Meow,” said someone politely, and she lowered her gaze to meet a green gaze from about ankle level. It was a tiny kitten, adorable with its narrow orange and white stripes. It squeezed through the opening and bolted into the house. Hailey peered around outside, but saw no one, so she closed the door again.
“Well, we seem to have True Love,” she told Ellen. “A kitten just came asking for asylum and I have no idea where it went.”
Ellen oohed. “Great. Boy or girl? Is it a stray looking for a home? I hear they make great self-cleaning litter boxes these days.”
“I can’t keep it,” Hailey protested, walking from room to room looking for the cat. “I don’t know anything about animals. And I can’t take it with me when I go back home. Pets aren’t allowed at my apartment.”
“Don’t panic. You probably won’t be able to keep it anyway. Most likely it’s a neighbor’s cat.”
Hailey squeezed the phone between ear and shoulder and dove after a swinging tail into a kitchen cupboard. “Out of there, you little thief,” she muttered.
