Page 16 of Until Landon
“Oh.”
“Then, when he drove me home, the thought of being alone freaked me. He was staying at his dad’s, who is one of the clinic’s regulars by the way. They offered me a safe place to stay for the night. I gladly took it.” I pause for effect. “Defense rests.”
The facts of the case get digested. “That was nice of them.”
“It was. But to your point Hunter, I wouldn’t turn down a date if he asked.”
I let the information sit with him for a minute. And with me. I feel a change coming. I cannot see what it is yet. Maybe this conversation is the beginning.
“Does that bother you?” I ask.
“You haven’t dated much this century, you may be rusty.”
“I am.”
“There’s some W-D in the garage.”
My boy. I have missed how much he can make me laugh.
The conversations of the last twenty-four hours keep replaying in my mind. The usual things enjoyed walking downtown have been barely noticed. Tennessee’s gorgeous trees. The feel of the sun on my face. Or the smell of Digger’s Donuts. All relegated to the back room of my consciousness.
The only thing that caught my attention were the sexy bras in the window of Marie’s a few shops ago. Stopping to take a peek I had to fight the urge to go inside. Good sense prevailed. They looked expensive. Target has pretty ones. Maybe I can stop after work. What exactly am I preparing for?Naked and afraid with Landon. That’s what.
Hunter hit it on the nose. I am undeniably out of practice. Random dates over the last ten years don’t count for much. After becoming a widow, it took me five trips around the sun just to consider the option. The next three didn’t produce any serious contenders. It was a matter of going through the motions. I sort of let the fantasy die after that. How does a person recover from themselves? Is it possible to come out of my half-dreamed dream?
Approaching July’s clinic, the aroma of freshly sliced meats permeates the air. The new butcher shop, two doors down, draws our canine customers as much as Smyrna’s citizens. Leashes strain to be diverted from doctor’s visits to The Meat Emporium every single day.
There’s that dog again. I have seen it at least three times in the last month, gazing into the glass door. Poor old girl. The matted once white hair and old wound on her face, say she’s been a stray for a long while. We have tried everything to catch her, but she has been living by her wiles and outthinks us every time. No one gets close.
“Hello, pretty girl,” I say with as much gentleness as I can express.
Shit! I spooked her. She’s gone, between the buildings and away from the help we can give. I keep walking.
Swinging the clinic’s door open, I pass under the bright blue and crisp white signage announcing… the clinic’s resident character greets me.
“The infantry has arrived!”
Fingers playing an imaginary horn follow her words. Carol’s mood can be counted on. Rain or shine, busy or boring, she keeps steady with her joy. The woman is the Grand Wizard of the office. July and Dominique know how lucky they are to have such a competent office manager. Here since day one, not a thing passes her notice. Not strictly business-related tidbits either. If there is a crumb of gossip to be had she finds it. Then tells the rest of the staff.
“Morning! It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” I say, sounding more like Carol than myself.
She looks me over and the corner of her mouth lifts in a knowing smirk.
“Apparently. So tell me everything. And don’t leave out any of the good parts.”
“What are you talking about?” I say, putting my purse under the counter and taking my seat next to her.
“I never get to grill you! Kim, I am sorry to report your life has been remarkably pure and boring up to now. This new development is giving me all the feels. Spill it.” She dips her chin. “And byit, I’m talking the sexy stylings of Landon Podesta.”
Why am I surprised? She has some sort of direct line to the town’s breaking news. And I have previously been an interested listener, so how can I opt out now?
“Thereisno news,” I lie. “God.”
She swivels in her chair, like the captain of The Enterprise would, eyes never leaving mine. This stupid smile inside me is trying to get loose again. My lips press, ineffectively holding it back. A too long curling fake fingernail attempts pointing my way. The actual direction is to my right about thirty degrees.
“Not true, my friend. Multiple witnesses have reported in already. You’re busted.”
The interrogation is gratefully interrupted by the sound of a client’s voice.
