Twenty-Eight and a Half Wishes
Page 37

“Thanks.”
“I’ll keep an eye on ya. When you’re ready to go, just let me know and I’ll call a taxi.”
“Thanks, Sloan.” I took a sip of my wine while I tried to calm my nerves. I welcomed the warm tingly feeling, but decided I would only have one. I couldn’t risk acting like I had with Joe. Heavens knew that someone like Dan wouldn’t stop because I was drunk, making me appreciate what Joe had done that much more.
Melancholy washed over me thinking about Joe, bringing confusion with it. I thought he liked me until I found out he had a girlfriend. I tried to cheer myself up knowing I had just taken care of two more things, drinking wine and going to a bar. Five items done. Twenty-three to go. But sadness overshadowed my joy.
I asked Sloan to call for a cab.
I gave myself a pep talk during the short taxi ride home. First, Daniel Crocker was some weird coincidence and had nothing to do with Momma's murder. While I had to admit he was slimy, my overactive imagination tied him to her death. Surely, murderers didn't lounge around bars trying to pick up women. Wouldn't they be hiding out?
Second, it was Steve’s loss. I wasn’t the only woman to have an awful date, even an awful first date. I could do better. There were other fish in the sea. And all those other idioms. I actually felt better when the driver pulled up in front of my house. Until I discovered Joe still sitting on his front porch. I got out and walked to the side door, trying to pretend he didn’t exist.
“Where’d your date go?” Joe called out.
Ignore him.
“Did you kill him before he could bring you home?”
I wanted to tell him that murder was nothing to joke about, but had to admit that Steve being so scared of me was a tiny bit funny, especially since I was half his size.
“You’re goin’ to run out of rollin’ pins soon.”
I jerked my head around and glared at him. Don’t answer him! I fumbled in my purse, looking for my keys, cursing myself for not digging them out in the cab. I found them and hurried to open the locks, the locks Joe installed for me, before I did something I would regret. My heart was already beginning to soften. That wasn't good.
“Rose, can’t we just talk about it? Please?” His tone had changed, the teasing gone. I wanted to talk to him so bad, and do even more with him something fierce, but I couldn't trust him and I didn't trust me. I went inside, shutting the door behind me.
Joe McAllister couldn’t be part of my life.
Chapter Ten
The phone rang nonstop for an hour after I came home. I finally answered, deciding I couldn’t avoid talking to Violet any longer. She apologized profusely, and although she didn’t deny that Mike forced Steve into the date, she didn't admit to it either.
The next afternoon she came back to take care of the rest of Momma’s things. While we sorted through boxes and photos in Momma’s closet, we discussed what to do with the house. Violet was adamant we split it fifty/fifty. We decided to have a couple of real estate agents come give us an estimate of the value of the house and go from there.
The next morning was Monday. Time for me to go back to work. I set my alarm earlier than usual since it took me a bit longer to get ready than it used to—the only downside to my new hair.
I walked into the DMV, my thermal mug of coffee in my hand, expecting the stares of my coworkers but still not fully prepared either.
“Well looky at you, Miss Rose, all purty.” Betty crooned. “What happened, did ya go and find yourself a man?”
I laughed, feeling a blush creeping its way up my neck. “No, my aunt came to visit. She’s a hairdresser and she cut my hair. It’s no big deal.”
Suzanne, shot a sneer in my direction. “Somebody got new clothes, too. What happened to the gunny sacks?”
I shrugged.
“Looks like your mother’s death agrees with you.”
Her smug tone confirmed that she knew I was a suspect. I ignored her.
The morning went by quickly with lots of customers. Thankfully, most were pleasant and easy to please. Working at the DMV was a soul-sucking job. If I was changing the rest of my sad life, why not change my job too? The idea lit a spark of hope and I began to daydream about possible career choices. I called the next number and glanced up to see Daniel Crocker standing in front of me.
My eyes almost popped out of my head.
And from the look of him, his did too.
“You?” he asked.
I took his paperwork off the counter, wondering how he had gotten it back and why he hadn’t processed it already. But then I remembered his insurance card had expired. Maybe he had just got it replaced.
He rubbed his chin, then leaned his forearm on the counter, looking down at me in confusion. “Weren’t you the girl who fainted last time I was here?”
I gave him a tiny smile. “I don’t know, maybe.” I checked his paperwork. Everything seemed to be in order this time.
“How many of y’all faint around here anyway?” he asked in amazement.
“Well… I guess I’m the only one.” I answered, trying to shrink into my chair.
“Sloan isn’t your brother, is he?”
Crap, crap, crap. “Why do you ask that?” I asked, trying to keep my voice cheerful and professional.
“He’s a cop, isn’t he?”
My head shot up, my eyes wide in shock.
He leaned his head over the counter. “So I guessed right, huh?”
I had no earthly idea what he was talking about. “You really must have us mixed up with someone else. Sloan’s just a bartender and I work at the DMV.” I grabbed a sticker out of the drawer and stapled it to his registration paperwork. “See? I process license plates,” I said with a forced smile. “Everything is in order this time and you’re all set.” I handed him his forms. “You have a nice day now.”