Miami Beach. Only a day earlier, Debbie Phillips
mused as she put a pot of coffee on the stove, she had been in that wildly
romantic, tropical place on her honeymoon, time spent with the most wonderful
man in the world. Those five days had been taken up with palm trees, beaches,
restaurants, champagne, and more romance than she ever dreamed she would share
with a man, after having been single for the first thirty-seven years of her
life.
Now, oddly enough, being at home was no less
magical. That cozy, modest Cape Cod house in Massachusetts, where she was born
and raised, was every bit the paradise she’d encountered in the Sunshine State.
Even more so because that day marked the first day she would actually be living
there in her house, following her wedding and honeymoon.
It was paradise because she was living there…with
her husband.
“Oooooh—I have a husband!” she whispered excitedly
under her breath.
And it was Brandt now. Debbie Brandt, not Phillips. Phillips was her maiden name. Now she was
Mrs. Michael Brandt.
From the kitchen, she could hear her husband calling
out to her from upstairs in their bedroom. “Honey, don’t go through a whole of
trouble. I can pick up a doughnut or something on the way to work.”
“A doughnut? No, sir, I wouldn’t hear of that!” she
called back.
She cracked the eggs and beat them with a whisk,
adding a few drops of milk to the bowl. The bread slices waited in the toaster
and she’d already taken the butter dish out of the fridge so it would be soft
enough to spread. To lighten up breakfast somewhat, she’d already sliced up a
couple cups of strawberries and dusted them with a teaspoon of sugar. From the
radio in the corner, the Chordettes’ honeyed voices were warbling, “Mr.
Sandman.” Debbie hummed along with the tune, content as she set the table for
two.
Mrs.
I’m a Mrs. now. How lovely! Mrs. Mike Brandt. Mrs. Brandt. The sheriff’s wife.
That was probably how the folks in town were
referring to her: The sheriff’s new wife.
Actually, she was the town sheriff’s only wife. That recent trip down the
aisle had been the first for both of them. For Mike, who had recently turned
forty, it marked the end of his bachelorhood.
“Well, look at you, baby! You look like a movie
star!”
When Debbie spun around, the skirt of her dress
twirled right along with her movement. Her breath caught at the sight of her
husband filling up that doorway with his lean, six-foot-plus frame. People
always said there was something about a man in uniform, but that saying went
double when it came to her husband. Mike cut a dashing, handsome figure in his
brown sheriff’s uniform. His sunglasses hung from his shirt’s breast pocket.
Right above that he had pinned the star badge that read SHERIFF. He’d managed
to tame the waves of his blondish brown hair, and he stood there, gazing at her
with a smile filled with husbandly affection.
“Better than a movie star,” he corrected himself.
“What did you do? Wake up early just to get yourself all dolled up?”
“I most certainly did!” she exclaimed, giggling. “We’re
newlyweds, remember? I’m still your bride. That means you’re not going to catch
me looking frumpy or with hair curlers in my hair or anything.”
Mike stepped further into the room, wrapped his arms
around her waist, and pressed her up against him. He tilted his head back,
inspecting her hair.
“You look different,” he observed out loud.
“Do you like it?” Debbie smoothed her hair. “I let
my hair down. The style is new.”
“Love it.” He couldn’t resist kissing her, though
the little peck on the lips turned into a steamy kiss.
She flattened her hands against his broad chest. It
was necessary to catch her breath before saying, “If you keep that up, you’ll
be late for work.”
“Well, we can’t have that, young lady,” he mock
scolded, giving her rounded behind a light spank. “So are you going through all
this trouble, making a breakfast fit for a king, every morning of our lives? Do
that, and you’re going to spoil me. Not to mention I might eat my way right out
of this uniform.”
Smiling, she finished setting the table. “I am going to spoil you, Mike Brandt. Sit,
honey. Is the radio too loud? I can turn it down.”
“Nooo, leave it on. I like that song.” Grinning, he
took a seat and watched her pour coffee into their cups. “What’s that called?”
“I think that’s ‘One Mint Julep.’ Yeah. That’s the
name of it.” Carefully, with the spatula, she coaxed the scrambled eggs out of
the pan, equally distributing them onto two plates. What was left over she gave
to Mike. “Pretty day out there.”
“Sure looks like it will be. I hope my bride makes
sure she makes time today to enjoy it.”
“Oh, I hope so, too.” She tossed a smile at him over
her shoulder. “I know I’m going to be busy today. I thought maybe I’d clean the
downstairs first, then the upstairs tomorrow. That’ll give me time to get into
town and pick up a few things.”
“That sounds great. I’m sure you will be busy,
baby.” He picked up the newspaper, which she had thoughtfully set on his side
of the table. He skimmed the front page but then folded it up again when she
set his plate before him. “Toast. Butter. And strawberries, too. A fellow could
get used to this treatment.”
Juice. That was the only thing she’d forgotten.
Debbie fetched it from the refrigerator and poured them each a small glass.
“Oh, and I do have those thank-you cards to sent out
to our friends and families for the wedding gifts,” she said, sighing. “Almost
forgot about them.”
“Send them tomorrow. Pace yourself, baby. I don’t
want you getting worn out by the end of the day,” he gently scolded her. “The
thank-you notes can wait. If you get a chance—no, let me put it this way, make sure you make time to meet your
girlfriends for lunch or coffee later. A little time to yourself will be good.”
“I’ll do that, but first I have to get some of the
housekeeping and laundry done. I am going to be the best wife in Lighthouse
Cove.”
Reaching across the table, Mike grabbed her hand and
kissed it.
“You already are
the best wife in Lighthouse Cove, Debbie,” he assured her. “Now I mean it. You
just came home from your honeymoon. Don’t overdo it. Besides, your friends are
all going to want to catch up with you, find out how Florida was. You can spare
an hour or two for them.”
She tilted her head to the side and gave in. “Well,
okay. I’ll do that. An hour.”
“Or two,” he reiterated firmly. “As long as supper’s
on the table when I come home from work, I don’t see why you can’t have a
little time to yourself. Have some fun, honey. Be a good girl, of course, but
have fun. Just don’t get yourself into any mischief like…you know.”
Debbie had just pierced a strawberry slice with her
fork. She looked up. “Like what?”
“Like that time before we were married. We were
still dating at the time,” Mike reminded her. “And you and that Laura Dunaway started
playing matchmakers for that widow, Mrs. Hepburn.”
She shrugged and wrinkled her nose. “Well, there was
no harm in that.”
“It’s not a matter of there being no harm in it or
not. Mrs. Hepburn’s affairs are none of your business. Yours or Laura’s. But Laura
isn’t married to the town sheriff, Deborah. You are.”
He was using her full name? That was a new one. She
hadn’t heard him do that before. He was also speaking in an almost stern tone
that she had heard upon occasion. She wasn’t even quite sure what to say, and
it was just as well, as he went on.
“You’re sort of in a fishbowl, baby. I try to lead
by example, and as your husband, I expect you to do the same. That’s just the
way it is when you’re the sheriff.” Mike waved a hand in the air. “But enough
of that. I don’t want to give you a lecture the day after our honeymoon.”
I
would hope not, either. Although, she had to admit, she
kind of liked that authoritative side of him. At the same time she wasn’t
totally used to having a man boss her, having been on her own for so long. Instead
of bringing that up, she rose from her seat and eased herself onto his lap,
hugging his neck. He responded right away, cuddling with her.
“I promise I’ll be a very good girl,” she murmured,
making an “X” over her left breast with a manicured finger. “Cross my heart.
And I mean it, Sheriff: You will have the
best wife in Lighthouse Cove. You’ll be so proud of me!”
****
