Widowed Kate Everett is looking forward to starting her "second act'. She's planned out everything that she wants - a new house, a new job, maybe even a new man. She can't wait until everything falls into place.
But life has a way of butting in, and Kate soon finds herself dealing with unexpected houseguests, helping her daughter plan the world's smallest wedding, and sudden unemployment. Things get even more complicated with the reappearance of her old college love, Jake. He realizes the mistake he made years ago in letting her go, and is eager to win her back.
Kate thinks that she and Jake can build something real, and that maybe her happy ending is in front of her at last. But the arrival of Edward, her daughter's future father-in-law, presents Kate with an unexpected choice.
It looks like real happiness may require a slight change of plan.
“I sound old and desperate.”
“No, you don’t. You’re overreacting. You sound fine.”
“I need to take out the part about living alone for a while. And about having three children.”
“Kate, first of all, it’s not like you have toddlers. Three adult children is a good thing. It sends a signal that they are out of the house, you are alone and independent, and if you run away for a romantic weekend, you’ll have a built-in pet- sitter.”
She was right there. My youngest son, Sam, was graduating from college in two months with a degree in something to do with computers that I didn’t understand at all, but he assured me it would guarantee him a very good-paying job. My middle child and lovely daughter, Regan, at twenty-five, was getting married sometime in the not-too-distant future, and had already moved in with her intended. My oldest, my son Jeff—a year and a half older than Regan—was living with his soul mate, Gabe, in a West Village apartment which was the only place I could ever see him living. So yes, I was alone.
Independent? Well, sure. I had to be. I’d been a widow for the past eight years. I’d learned to kill spiders, empty mousetraps, change flat tires, and hook up a cable modem to my computer. If that wasn’t real independence, I didn’t know what was.
“Then maybe I’ll take out the part about being fifty- five.”
“Then you wouldn’t have anything.” “Exactly.”
My sister, Laura, smacked the side of my head with her open palm. “Kate, I’m telling you, this sounds amazing. You’ll have men snapping you up like a bright new penny.”
“Why am I Kate Freemont Everett? I was married way longer than I was single. I’d almost forgotten my maiden name.”