Going Through the Notions(53)

They certainly had the powerful physiques necessary to whack someone with a barn beam. Even more so than Fiona’s driver. And while they hadn’t exactly threatened me, they didn’t welcome my presence on their property either.

The air-conditioning was blowing cooler now, so I closed the windows.

I was driving through a wooded section before the turnoff to River Road, seeing the scene back at the feed store in my mind’s eye, until suddenly a deer loped out in front of me. I braked to avoid it, but then another one followed, and I jammed harder on brakes that were slippery in the blistering heat, until the last one, the baby, froze.

Oh, no.

I wrenched the wheel hard to the right and barely managed to steer the car between two trees until it finally came to a crashing halt in a pile of leaves and undergrowth.

I blew out a long breath, and watched the family of deer trot farther into the dark recesses of the forest.

Pay attention, Daisy.

I threw the car into reverse and steadily powered it back up onto the main road. The Subaru didn’t seem any worse for wear, and I carried on, more slowly this time.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I finally saw the sign for the village of Millbury. My nerves were completely shot. I couldn’t wait to get home. Safe. And I couldn’t wait to see Joe.

Hunger clawed at my stomach and I realized I’d forgotten to eat lunch.

As I passed Sometimes a Great Notion, I noticed there was still a light on. I banged on the steering wheel in frustration. Did I have to do everything myself? Why couldn’t Sarah be more careful? I stopped at the store, stomped inside, and checked around to make sure the coffeepot was turned off and the computer properly shut down, too. I ended up spending more time going over the day’s receipts.

Another half hour later, I walked in the front door of the house, calling hello. There was no answer. Maybe Joe and Sarah were in the garden.

The old house felt cool in spite of the heat because its walls were so thick. We didn’t need air-conditioning downstairs, only window units in the bedrooms.

I hurried toward the kitchen, but stopped still as the total and utter devastation gradually registered. “Oh my God! What happened here?”

Sarah and Joe glanced guiltily at each other. Sarah was the first to speak. “Well, I left Jasper gated in the kitchen all day, and I guess he found an interesting rip in the floor.”

Extremely interesting, apparently, because he had proceeded to methodically chew up the rest of it, leaving an impressive heap of shredded vinyl. The corners of the cabinets had been chewed, too. Ruined. Completely ruined.

Joe held up a hand. “Now, Daisy, don’t freak out—”

I sucked in as much air as I could muster. “Well, why don’t you tell me when I can freak out, Joe, because God knows I never can around here!”

Joe’s lips thinned and he turned and walked out of the room.

I turned on Sarah. “Why the hell didn’t you come home at lunchtime and let the dog out?”

“I got busy at the store. Your store, which you left me to watch!”

“Couldn’t you call Dad and let him know what was going on?”

“Daddy went to play golf. He didn’t know.”

I ground my teeth out of a combination of frustration and guilt. “You need to pay more attention to that dog.”

“Mom, you said you were going to redo the kitchen anyway.”

I thought my head might explode. “Yes, but not right now. Not right this minute!” I noticed that the legs on our precious butcher block table had also suffered from Jasper’s boredom. “Damn it!”

The phone on the kitchen wall rang.

“Don’t answer it,” Sarah begged.

I glared at her and picked up the phone anyway. “Yes?” I snapped.

A pleasant-sounding male voice asked, “Is Sarah there, please?”

“Yes, hold on.” I thrust the receiver at her. “It’s for you.”

Sarah hissed, “I told you not to answer it. Thanks a lot, Mom.” She pushed past me and ran up the stairs.

“I’ll take it in my room,” she yelled. “And by the way, I’m leaving in the morning.”

Hallelujah.

“I’ve got it. Hang up the phone!”

I slammed the phone back into its receiver on the wall.

Joe came into the kitchen at that moment, with Jasper at his heels.

I pointed at him, on a roll now. “You know what? This is all your fault.”

“What is?”

“This!” I flung my arms wide to encompass the annihilation of the room. “All of it. You spoil her to death. You always have.”

“Oh, I spoil her, do I?”

Jasper slunk closer to Joe, wagging his tail ingratiatingly.

“Yes, and I’m sick of it. Sick of always being the one to have to lay down the law with Sarah.”