Joe frowned as he savored another swallow of wine.
“She asked about him, of course, but honestly, Daisy, I got the feeling that she’s hoping we would offer to keep him permanently. And I’ve got to say, I think his life here is so much better than he’d have in New York. Here he’s got lots of fresh air, exercise, a regular schedule, a big backyard to play in . . .”
Suddenly I remembered Sarah trying to talk her parents into getting a dog when we’d first moved to Millbury, but we’d always resisted the idea. I shook my head in wondering affection, and also in the sneaking suspicion that Joe and I had been had.
By my very beautiful, very clever, very conniving daughter.
I grabbed a piece of pizza and grinned at my husband. My kitchen might be wrecked, my store rent doubled, but who the hell cared. Things were definitely looking up.
• • •
The next morning, I woke up early. Very early. I rolled over and glanced at the alarm clock. Only 5:45 a.m., but I was bursting with energy and the pure joy of being alive.
All the stress I’d been living under for weeks had magically disappeared. It also might have had something to do with the night of tender lovemaking that followed a hearty mushroom pizza and a bottle of Shiraz.
I lay there for a few minutes, luxuriating and stretching under the covers. I knew I’d never go back to sleep now, and not wanting to disturb Joe who was still sleeping peacefully, I slipped out of bed.
I grabbed some clothes, dressed quickly in the guest bedroom, and padded down the steps. Poor Jasper hadn’t even come upstairs at bedtime. He’d slept in the study all night long. Maybe I’d overdone it a bit with him yesterday. I needed to remember he was still a youngster.
I’d go for a walk and pick up breakfast and coffee on the way home from the diner. The dishwasher had been pulled out from the wall as well as the cabinets, and the less dishes to wash in the powder room sink, the better. I’d call Eleanor later and see if I could take a shower at her place.
Jasper roused himself and yawned, still so sleepy that his tongue fell out of one side of his mouth.
“Want to go for a walk, boy?” I whispered. He dragged himself to his feet and I knelt down and hugged him. “Poor little tired puppy. You could stay here if you like.” But he was already panting with excitement and looking up to where his leash hung on the hook on the wall.
The morning was cool and foggy, and there wasn’t another soul around on Main Street. I walked past the store, my heart swelling all over again at the realization I’d be able to stay in Millbury.
Sometimes a Great Notion was going to live to fight another day.
Soon we were down in the south end, making our usual pilgrimage to say hello to the giant pumpkin.
As we neared the white picket fence surrounding the Browns’ property, I frowned as I saw a glimpse of peach through the mists. I could have sworn Georgia was covered up when we passed by at the end of our walk yesterday afternoon. There was a dark streak across one side of her. I stopped and peered, trying to make out if it was just a shadow or perhaps the blanket had slipped off to one side.
Was that a prone figure lying across her expansive flesh?
“Oh my God. Sam!” He must have had a heart attack or something.
I fumbled with the latch for the gate and ran toward the pumpkin patch with the dog bounding alongside, yelling for Dottie.
When I got closer, I saw that it wasn’t Sam at all.
Chip Rosenthal lay across the pumpkin at an awkward angle, his head brutally smashed in.