Thirty-Two and a Half Complications
Page 33

 Denise Grover Swank

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
His face turned pink. “She does?”
“All those cookies and muffins she makes for you weren’t clue enough?”
He gave a half-hearted shrug. “I just thought she liked to bake.”
I laughed and stood, picking up my jacket. “For someone so smart, you are entirely clueless about women. Jessica likes you. She used to glare at me every time I came to visit you before she realized I was dating Mason. I think she saw me as a threat since we spend so much time together behind a closed door.”
“I…I had no idea.” He stood and moved behind his desk, pointing his finger at me. “And nice attempt at deflecting this conversation from you.”
“Jessica really does like you.”
“Maybe so,” he conceded. “But we haven’t necessarily finished dealing with your issues.”
I slipped my arms into my jacket sleeves and shrugged my coat on. “Honestly, Jonah, I’m not sure there’s much left to discuss. Besides, I need to let Muffy out. She’s been home alone all day.” I walked around the desk and gave my friend a hug. “I know you’re a busy man, Reverend Jonah Pruitt, and gettin’ busier every day with that TV show of yours. You have no idea how much I love our chats, but if you ever find you don’t have enough time for me—”
He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me back. “You stop right there, Rose. I’m your friend, just like I was before I became your counselor. You stood by me when no one else would. I’ll always have time for you.”
I smiled, feeling sappy. “Same for you, Jonah.”
He kissed my forehead, then dropped his hold. “You better scoot along. But call me if you need me for anything. I mean it.”
“I will.”
I headed home, already feeling guilty that I’d only be with Muffy for a couple of hours before leaving to meet Mason for dinner. When I opened the front door, I expected my little dog to run up and greet me. Instead I heard a muffled snarl from the back of the house.
“Muffy?”
I found her in the middle of the kitchen. She was attacking something that looked like a sleeve as a low rumble issued from her throat.
“Muffy, what on earth…?”
She stopped and glanced up at me with an “oh, crappy doodles” look, the tan fabric still in her mouth.
I gaped at her in shock when I realized it was part of my lightweight work jacket. She had never destroyed anything in all the months I’d had her, but now my coat was ripped to shreds and strewn across the floor.
Muffy came to her senses and dropped the sleeve before running under the table.
Sighing, I dropped to my knees. It was obvious she missed me and this was her way of telling me. “Muffy, come on out. I’m sorry I’ve been leavin’ you so much.”
She stayed under the table, but I about fell over from the poisonous gas floating out through the chair legs.
“Muffy,” I groaned, waving my hand in front of my face. “I said I was sorry!”
Her belly to the floor, she scooted out under a chair, her leash in her mouth. She must have found it and dragged it into the kitchen.
I couldn’t help but laugh as I took the leash from her. “I know. I’ve neglected you. I can’t take you for a walk today, but I’ll take you on a real long one tomorrow, okay?”
My answer seemed to appease her because she hopped up on my lap and covered my face with licks. I squeezed her tight, rubbing her head. “I love you too, girl. Come on, let’s go outside.”
We went out the backdoor, and I noticed the pane had been fixed. Mason was right—I would have told him no if he had offered to pay for it, but it gave me a warm feeling to know he’d taken care of it anyway.
Muffy ran up to the barn and romped in the horse pen. Watching her made me think about bringing Ashley and Mikey out here the day before. Would Violet try to cut me out of their lives now? I couldn’t bear the thought. Violet and I had had our share of spats since Momma’s death, but none this serious. I’d said some ugly, hurtful things I wished I could take back. I knew I should apologize, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
When we went back inside, I noticed the house was colder than usual and the thermostat read sixty-four instead of its usual seventy. Frustrated, I headed down to the basement to check out the ancient furnace. We’d had problems with the pilot light going out a couple of times over the past few weeks, and sure enough, it was out again. Crouched on my hands and knees, I stared at the old furnace, wondering when I would catch a break.
“Rose!” Joe’s voice called out from upstairs.
I groaned. Obviously, I wasn’t catching one yet. “Why do you insist on continually breaking into my house, Deputy Simmons?” I shouted toward the staircase.
Several seconds later I heard footsteps on the creaky wooden steps. “I’m not breaking in this time. You left the front door unlocked.”
I was on my knees, which robbed me of a fair amount of dignity, but I still put my hands on my hips and narrowed my eyes at him. “I didn’t expect someone to barge right in. And I sure didn’t expect a break-in last night.”
He stood several feet in front of me, still wearing his uniform, and gave me an ornery grin. “No one ever thinks their house is going to be broken into.”
“I don’t think that’s altogether true,” I teased, despite myself. “I expected a couple of the break-ins that happened at my old house.”