But I began to wonder if he’d feel guilty at all. How did he know I couldn’t leave the county? Why wouldn’t he go to the police? The night of Momma’s murder, why did he tell me he was “just the neighbor” as though he could actually be something more? What if Joe McAllister, the man who helped me paint my living room, who gave me my first kiss and made me laugh until I cried, played a part in Momma’s murder? What if he was the intruder who broke into my house?
It seemed inconceivable. But there was no refuting he had information I hadn’t given him and that he wouldn't talk to the police even though he knew my arrest was inevitable. Everything pointed to him being involved.
But why would he do all those nice things for me including putting new locks on my door, if he wanted to kill me? I closed my eyes, and sank into the big chair in the living room, remembering Joe’s breath on my neck and his lips on mine. How could the same man want to hurt me?
Muffy began to whine and set her chin on my knees. I opened my eyes and smiled at her forlorn face. I had no idea dogs could look so sad. I rubbed her head, surprised I’d become so attached to her already. “What’s wrong, Muffy?”
She set her paw on my lap, whining.
“Do you need to go outside? I need to get you some dog food. And a leash.” Muffy’s butt made an odd noise and a stink filled the room. I waved my hand, trying to move the smell. “And perhaps some diapers. Whew!”
The cable man arrived at nine, and left an hour later since I only had him put in one line. When I signed the ticket, I mentioned my surprise that he came out the day after I called.
He chuckled. “I’ve never seen that happen. It must be your lucky day.”
My lucky day. I liked the sound of that.
I'd studied my list while I waited for him to finish. To my amazement, I had checked off nine items already. Of course, there was the empty number twenty-nine to deal with, but I decided not to worry about that one. I’d already had enough new experiences, any of which I could plug in the space.
I needed a plan. I had four days left. To get them all accomplished, I needed to complete five a day. Which five would I do today?
I decided to pick out the items that looked the hardest. Maybe I could do one of those a day. Those were: the Seven Deadly Sins in one week, ride in a convertible, do more with a man, go to Italy, ride a motorcycle, fly in an airplane, play in the rain. That was seven and only four days. The sins needed to be spread out anyway. I just needed to make sure I did two a day and I’d be done with time to spare. The two that worried me the most were going to Italy, which seemed out of the question, and play in the rain. What if it didn't rain between now and Sunday?
I decided to worry about those two later. Today, I’d just wing it with the sins. And for the other wishes, it seemed logical to start at the top. Buy some makeup, visit a beauty salon, get a pedicure. The next item: ride in a convertible. How could I do that?
I’d rent one. I got out the phone book and looked up a car rental agency. “I’d like to rent a convertible.”
“How long? A day? A week?”
Shoot, why not a week? I told him I’d be there within an hour.
When it came time for me to leave, Muffy followed me around, hanging her head and tucking her tail between her legs. “Don’t be doin’ that.” I said, rubbing her head. “I can’t take you with me, but I’ll bring you back a surprise when I come home, okay?”
Muffy seemed unconvinced.
With all the farting she’d done, I decided it would be safer to keep her in the bathroom. Definitely an easier clean up if she made a mess.
I started out the door and saw the wooden box on the kitchen table, where I left it days ago, still in the paper bag. As an afterthought, I grabbed the bag and threw it in the car.
I was ready to see what was inside.
The rental agency was the first stop. I’d never rented a car before, but it proved easy enough, and I left with a white Sebring convertible. I climbed into the front seat and studied the buttons until I figured out how to put the top down. The heat had risen to a nearly intolerable level, the high humidity causing steam to rise from the pavement, but the whole point of having a convertible was to put the top down.
I drove toward downtown and realized why I always saw people who drove convertibles wearing sunglasses. The blinding sun made it difficult to see. Necessity instigated my next stop. Wal-Mart had a multitude of sunglasses on display. After trying on multiple pairs, I finally decided on one with black plastic frames and large, dark lenses.