Perfect Partners

twenty pounds he had carried for as long as Letty could remember, and he’d given up his pipe. He looked healthy and happy, and there was a new spring in his step. There was no denying he was thriving out here in the Pacific Northwest.
    For the most part Letty was happy for him. But as far as she was concerned, the decision to start a second family at Morgan’s age was taking things too far. She still could not believe she was going to have a baby brother soon.
    “Here we go.” Morgan drew the cork from the bottle with a flourish. “Excellent color, don’t you think, Joel? Letty, let me have your glass.”
    Letty got up and handed her father the long-stemmed wineglass. Morgan filled it before setting it down on the lacquered Art Deco coffee table in front of the sofa.
    “None for Stephanie, of course,” Morgan said. “She won’t touch alcohol again until after Matthew Christopher is born. How about you, Joel?”
    Joel, who was standing near the window, studying the magnificent view, glanced at the wine bottle. “Any beer in the kitchen?”
    Morgan smiled. “Of course. I kept the refrigerator stocked with Charlie’s favorites. You know how he liked his Northwest-brewed beer and ale.” He raised his voice. “Stephanie my dear, would you bring Joel a bottle of that good ale we picked up last month at that new brewery in north Seattle?”
    Stephanie appeared almost immediately in the doorway with a bottle and a glass. “Here you are, Joel.”
    “Thanks.” Joel ignored the glass and accepted the bottle. “To Charlie.” He took a long swallow.
    “To Charlie.”
    “To Charlie.”
    “To Charlie.”
    Letty took a sip of the sauvignon blanc and surveyed the platter of vegetables that sat in the center of the lacquered table. She was familiar with most of them, although she noticed one or two odd-looking items. She dunked a peapod in the dip.
    “What is this?” she asked politely. “I don’t recognize the flavor.”
    “That’s a tahini- and tofu-based dip I whipped together,” Stephanie said. “Do you like it?”
    “Very interesting,” Letty said. She moved on to a little dish of deep red spread surrounded by crackers. “And this?”
    “Just a little something I make using sun-dried tomatoes. I’ll give you the recipe if you like.”
    “Thank you,” Letty said formally, aware that everyone was watching her with varying degrees of amusement.
    “Do you like sashimi?” Joel asked a little too politely.
    “Back home we bait fish hooks with sashimi,” Letty said.
    Morgan laughed indulgently. “Everyone eats sushi and sashimi out here on the Coast. Isn’t that right, Joel?”
    Joel nodded slowly, his eyes on Letty. “There are sushi bars on every third corner from here to Vancouver. And the corners that don’t have sushi bars usually have Thai restaurants. But I imagine Letty prefers beef.”
    Stephanie looked immediately concerned. “Oh, dear, Letty, you aren’t still eating red meat, are you? Nobody eats red meat anymore.”
    “Well, we don’t eat a lot of raw fish back in Indiana, either. I read an article that said there’s a risk of worms in raw fish. They cause a very unpleasant illness that can be extremely difficult to cure.”
    “Nonsense,” Stephanie said as she started back into the kitchen. “Statistically, the chances of getting contaminated fish are extremely small if one is careful to eat in good-quality restaurants.”
    Morgan looked at Letty. “Why don’t you tell us what your plans are now that you have your own business?”
    “Actually, I’ve been giving that a lot of thought.” Letty paused to take another sip of wine. She could literally feel the seething tension vibrating close to the surface again in Joel. He had clearly gone on high alert. She realized with a trickle of dread that she had never been more aware of a man in her life. It was a very disconcerting sensation.
    “Go on, Letty. Tell us what you’ve been thinking,” Joel said softly, his eyes intent.
    “I’ve come to the conclusion that I need to make a few changes in my life,” Letty murmured. “This inheritance from Great-Uncle Charlie could not have come at a better time. It might almost have been fate. On the plane trip out here I decided not to go back to Vellacott.”
    Morgan looked astonished, but vastly pleased. “Well, well, well. I’m glad to hear it. You’re not normally the impulsive type, my dear. What were these changes in your life that you made on the spur of the