Page 45 of My Husband Problem

Patty’s eyes narrow. “And when will you be around? You’re always in Portland.”

Right, Patty’s Team Miles. I tell her what I hope is the truth. “I’ll be here when Astrid is.”

She doesn’t look convinced. “Uh huh.” Then she sighs. “You’ll just have to get keys made for all of us if you’re going to be silly about this.”

“Astrid’s safety isn’t silly. And we’re not going to make keys for everyone.” I say it in the voice I use to address various boards of directors. It’s friendly, it’s we’re-here-for-the-same-purpose, but it’s also firm and I’m-calling-the-shots.

Patty tips her head, less intimidated than many I’ve sat around conference tables with. “You don’t trust us?Milesdidn’t have a problem with the key outside.”

I find myself smiling. “Well, I just want to keep my wife safe. Astrid’s happiness and health are my first priority. I’m a little surprised Miles doesn’t feel the same way.”

Patty’s eyes widen slightly. “Well, I don’t know that that’s an assumption you can make.”

I lift a shoulder. “What else am I supposed to assume when he’s fine with anyone and everyone walking in and out of this house? A window on the side that’s so easy to open? A key just sitting under a statue right by the front door? I take very seriously that this house be fully secure.”

Her posture loses a little starch. “I can understand why you would feel that way. We all love and care for Astrid very much.”

I tip my head acknowledging that. “I believe you. But I promise you that no one feels that more strongly than I do.”

One of her brows arches. “That’s very good to hear.”

I also trust that Patty will be telling people I said it. I didn’t say it for Team Declan points. I mean it. Completely. Iwillbe assured Astrid is safe here, even if everyone feels I’m overreacting in how I ensure that. But I’ll take the brownie points with the town if I get some in the process.

“I take it you brought something over?” I ask, indicating the bag she’s holding.

“Green tomatoes. She loves fried green tomatoes.”

Nowmyeyes narrow. “Astrid knows how to make fried green tomatoes?”

Patty’s chin lifts. “Yes, I taught her myself.”

“And are they good?”

“Wonderful, in fact. You should definitely ask her to make you some.”

“Oh, I can’t wait.” Because now I’m curious if Astrid will make me crappy fried tomatoes. I’m putting my money on yes, definitely. “I’ll tell you what,” I say. “I can give you my number. If you ever have anything to drop off for Astrid and we’re not here at the house, just text or call. I’m happy to swing by wherever you are and get it from you.”

“Or you can drop whatever it is at my house.” Wilson appears next to me, escorting Michelle out.

The women exchange greetings as Michelle moves past Patty and down the front steps.

“Astrid will never get any of my produce or baked goods if I bring them to your house,” Patty tells Wilson.

“I didn’t say she would,” Wilson says. “I just said you can drop them off at my house.”

Patty rolls her eyes, but she smiles. “I have tomatoes for you too. But I’m not handing them over until I get zucchini.”

I look back and forth between them. “You trade produce?”

“Of course,” Wilson says.

“I grow better tomatoes than Wilson, and that leaves more room in his garden for the zucchini plants.”

“My zucchini are huge,” Wilson says with a wink.

“And then we both give to Maryann so she has lots of space for the strawberry plants,” Patty says. “And she can put up with the snakes.” She shudders.

Wilson nods. “Maryann has great strawberries.”