Page 23 of 7 Days and 7 Nights

“And, well, I hope it’s okay to say this.”

“Don’t worry, Jason. As long as it’s not obscene, you’re okay with—”

“It’s that head doctor you’re locked up with. The one you call Dr. O.”

“What the...” Olivia muttered as she sat straight up in bed. She flipped on the light and swung her legs over the side.

Matt’s shout of laughter filled her ears. He laughed for a good thirty seconds until Olivia pictured tears running down his face.

“Boy, Jason. I have to hand it to you. I didn’t even see it coming.”

Yeah, right. Olivia sprang out of bed. In two strides she had her hand on the doorknob.

“What a fertile imagination you have, son. And a thing for older women, too. I can just picture how flattered Dr. Moore will be when she discovers she’s every boy’s fantasy.”

The reggae music swelled up and then faded underneath Matt’s voice. “Thanks for sharing, Jason. You’ve given us all something really... special... to think about. This isGuy Talk, where a guy can be a guy.”

When she heard the first commercial come up, Olivia yanked open her bedroom door. Unwilling to get too close to the cameras, she stood in the doorway and hissed, “What do you think you’re doing?"

Matt looked up from the audio board. “Olivia?”

“No, it’s Wonder Woman. Come here.”

He got up, walked around the equipment, and came to stand in front of her door. “Nice pajamas.” Reaching out a hand, he traced a part of the design with his finger. “Are those sheep?”

Olivia slapped his hand away. “How dare you set that boy up to talk about me that way?”

“You think I arranged that?”

“I know you did. And I won’t stand for it.”

“This is talk radio, Olivia. People say things. I did not put those words in that boy’s mouth.” He laughed. “But I really wish I had.”

The blood thrummed through her veins, urging her to wipe the smile off his face. “Your show is a complete and utter travesty. For your information, women are not buses to be ridden at will. Your advice to that poor Dawg was completely insulting. And if you ever hold me up to that kind of ridicule again, I’ll—”

“Listen, I hate to interrupt, but I’m back on in thirty seconds. Why don’t you come on out and tell my listeners how you feel?"

He tugged teasingly at the sleeve or her pajamas. “Come on. You can give Jason a piece of your mind and tell the world that you’ve never been on a raft in your life.”

Amusement tugged at the corners of his mouth. “And be sure to stand right in front of the camera so they can see the pretty pink and blue sheep on your jammies.”

The challenge in his eyes was unmistakable. He wanted her out there in her sheep pajamas trying to defend herself against a ridiculous teenage fantasy. Which was all the reason she needed not to.

“Ugh. You are such an ass.”

“I know.” He offered her a smug, lopsided smile that she wanted to rip right off his face. “It’s a gift.”

Chapter Nine

JoBeth waved goodbye to her daddy’s La-Z-Boy recliner.

“We sure do appreciate the donation, JoBeth. This’ll help make the group room a whole lot cozier.”

JoBeth watched the pickup back out of the driveway and make a right out of the small Lawrenceville neighborhood. She knew exactly what Horace Namey would have said about his prized possession serving out the rest of its usefulness under rear ends at the Union Mission Halfway House, and the thought of his outrage provided the first real smile she’d managed in days.

She walked back into the little house. The living room was empty except for the few pieces she’d claimed for herself. She ran a hand over the old pine sideboard that had belonged to her great-grandmother and let her gaze linger on the bun-footed curio cabinet that now held the best of her mother’s Depression glass. Dropping into the rocker she’d dragged in from the front porch, she surveyed the beginnings of the room’s transformation with pride.

The baseboards and trim gleamed under a fresh coat of white paint, and the corners and edges of the room’s longest wall carried a first coat of apple green. She planned to finish painting the living room today and start on the kitchen tomorrow. JoBeth found comfort in the logical progression of the work and fully intended to deal with her inheritance the same way she’d learned to deal with her life—one day at a time.

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