Suzanne's Diary for Nicholas by James Patterson Page B

just made some sun tea. Come on in.”
    And he did, finding a comfy, sunny place in the kitchen, leaning into what looked like a catch-up mode. We definitely had
     some catching up to do, didn’t we?
    “I’ve been out of town for most of the month, Suzanne. I kept meaning to call, but I was in the middle of a legal fiasco.
     Unfortunately, it was in Thailand.”
    Suddenly, he smiled. “And you know—blah, blah, blah, yadda, yadda, yah. So how have you been? Obviously, you got some sun.
     You look fantastic.”
    “Well, thanks . . . so do you.”
    I had to tell him. I even decided to give Matt Wolfe the long version of what had been happening in my life.
    He listened, smiling at some parts, fidgeting nervously at others. I could tell his acceptance was somewhat bittersweet. But
     he kept listening intently, and when I was done, he got off the kitchen stool, put his arms around me, and gave me a hug.
    “Suzanne,” he said, “I’m happy for you.”
    He smiled bravely. “I knew in my gut I shouldn’t have gone away. Now the best thing that could have happened to me has slipped
     through my fingers again.”
    I found myself laughing. I was starting to notice that Matt Wolfe was a little bit of a con man. “Oh, Matt, your flattery
     is so sweet. Thanks for being a friend. Thanks for being
you.
”
    “Hey, if I’m gonna lose the big prize, I’m going down with a little dignity. But I’m telling you, Suzie, if this guy flinches,
     or if I sense a crack in the dam, I’m coming back.”
    We both laughed, and I walked him out to the Jag. Somehow, I just knew that Matt would be all right. I doubted he’d been all
     by his lonesome in Thailand. And let’s face it, he hadn’t called in nearly a month.
    I watched Matt get into his car, his pride and joy.
    “I actually think you two will get along. In fact, I think the two Matts will like each other a lot,” I called from the porch.
    “Oh, great! Now I have to like the guy, too?” he called back.
    The last thing I heard him say before he fired the convertible’s powerful engine was “He does know how to duel, doesn’t he?”
     
    “Okay. What’s going on? Spill the beans, Suzanne. I want the scoop. I know there’s something going on with you,” said my neighbor
     and friend Melanie Bone. “I feel it in my
bones.
”
    She was right. I hadn’t told her how Matt and I were progressing, but she could read my face and maybe even tell by the spring
     in my step.
    We were walking along the beach near our houses, the kids and Gus romping in front of us.
    “You’re smart,” I told her. “And nosy.”
    “I know that already. So tell me what I don’t know.
Spill.
”
    I couldn’t resist any longer. It had to come out sooner or later. “I’m in love, Mel. This has never happened before. I’m head
     over heels in love with Matt Harrison. I have no idea what’s to become of us!”
    She screeched. Then Melanie jumped up and down a few times in the sand. She was so cute, and such a good friend. She screeched
     again.
    “That is so perfect, Suzanne. I knew he was a good painter, but I had no idea about his other talents.”
    “Did you know he’s a poet? A very good poet.”
    “No, you’re kidding,” she said.
    “A beautiful dancer?”
    “That doesn’t surprise me. He moves pretty well on rooftops. So, how did this happen? I mean, how did it go from adding a
     touch of Cape Cod white to your house to
this?
”
    I started to giggle and felt like a schoolgirl. After all, things like this didn’t happen to grown women.
    “I talked to him one night at the hamburger place.”
    Melanie arched an eyebrow. “
Okay.
You talked to him at the hamburger place?”
    “I can talk to Matt about anything, Melanie. I’ve never had that happen with any man before. He even writes poems the way
     he talks. It’s very down-to-earth and at the same time, sometimes over your head. He’s passionate, exciting. He’s humble,
     too. Maybe more than he should be