Page 4 of Just a Plot Twist
They’re the reason I said yes, besides the threats of shelters or making Cinnamon live on the streets, of course. I’m not that heartless.
Ever since my kids moved to the Denver area, my brothers keep mentioning I should get a pet. And that I should join some dating apps or let them set me up on dates.
They think I’m lonely.
I can’t be. I work and then I’m the best dad I can possibly be on the weekends. I don’t have time to feel lonely.
I should probably get back out there, though, as a matter of principle. It’s been a year since the divorce was final. I said I didn’t want to date ever again, but now? Now that I’ve lived the single dad life for a while, I get why people jump back in to dating. Because there are some aspects of being single that suck.
I slide down the front of my sofa, sit on the floor, and stretch my legs out. The dog shimmies next to me, getting as close to me as possible. Her body is warm. She taps my knee with her paw. Against my better judgment, I pat her head.
I’m not a monster. Of course I can take this on for two weeks. I can’t help a little smile as I try to predict Dax and Indie’s reaction. If this helps them have more fun at my place, then fine.
“Well, dog.” I side-eye her. “Looks like we have to be friends. Temporary friends,” I amend. I survey her roundness, the folds of skin hanging at her neck, her collar studded with pink rhinestones. “No, more like colleagues we tolerate from a distance.”
I’m taking care of a geriatric, diabetic dog with continence issues?
What just happened?
Chapter 2
Claire
“Will you just go already?” My boss Inez’s whisper is harsh. “Pretty much everyone else is gone.”
She’s my friend, as well as the city manager for Longdale, Colorado. It’s unusual that my boss is one of my closest friends, but it just sort of happened over the years. Plus, she’s brilliant at her job and my voice of reason when I need it most.
And she’s also gigantically pregnant with twins. The poor woman went to the bathroom four times in our last meeting.
She’s gathering her things now.
“It’s Friday night, remember?” she says, picking up a paper bowl of cracker crumbs off my desk and throwing it in the trash for me. “The night our culture has designated as a time to get away from it all and relax?”
“You’ve forgotten what it’s like to be single in Longdale.”
“Probably.” She gives a lopsided grin. “But I do know it should not involve working late.”
I stop typing up the notes from the trailways project meeting earlier today, close my laptop halfway, and look her squarely in the eye. “You go on. You need to rest. It’s the weekend.”
“Exactly!” She throws her arms in the air. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Claire.”
“Sweetie. Go. I promise I’m almost done. I appreciate you. But I’m fine to be here alone.”
Inez lifts a finger as she readies to leave. “I haven’t forgotten what day it is, Claire. I don’t like that you’re going to be alone tonight.” There’s a sadness in her eyes.
“Thank you but you need to take care of yourself and get home. Let Mark forage for food for you.”
And by “forage,” I mean massaging her feet while they wait for something yummy to be delivered to their door.
When Inez saw on my big wall calendar earlier today that it was my late mother’s birthday, she gave me a hug. She said it was momentous, and we should celebrate. She doesn’t want me to be alone.
I appreciate it, but it’s not like we can make a big deal about it right now. She’s under doctor’s orders to rest as much as she can. Besides, my grandparents, Sophie, and I are getting together on Sunday to celebrate Mom.
“I hate that you’ll be alone tonight.” She pulls her hair out from under the strap of her crossover bag, which she adjusts over her belly.
Being alone tonight isn’t out of the norm.
I reassure her, again, that I’m fine and will probably settle in for some funny sitcoms and pizza. Her watch buzzes and when she glances at the lit-up screen, she winces. “I gotta go.”
