“In the fridge, second shelf on the right.” Amy sipped her coffee. She noticed Leslie staring in amazement at how comfortable Kevin had become in her kitchen. “So you were pretty busy last night?”
“Thank God Stampede is almost over.” Kevin pulled the cream cheese out of the fridge and dug around in the cutlery drawer for a knife. “You have no idea what we go through during the ten days of western hospitality and cowboy insanity.”
“I can well imagine.” Leslie grimaced. “I used to work as a cocktail waitress at one of the western bars in town, before I decided to take my cosmetology training. Every year I swore ‘never again’, but then I’d remember the great tips, and I’d do it all over.”
“I did the same thing. The stories I could tell would curl your hair, Constable.” Amy smiled.
“We’ll compare war stories one day.” Kevin settled himself at the table with a cup of coffee he’d poured himself and his toasted bagel. “I’ve probably heard all of your tales. Remember, the bars call us when things get a little too raunchy.”
“Right, I forgot about that part.” Amy smiled. “But things go on that don’t require an officer of the law. And the city’s birth rate increases significantly nine months after Stampede most years.”
“I know. Did I mention Sarah’s birthday is April 20?” Kevin smiled and then his face reddened. “Too much celebrating, involving a bottle of wine, after a long Stampede shift. Sarah surprised both of us. When the doctor gave us the news that my wife was pregnant, I was tickled to death. Barbara was devastated; she never wanted children. Another factor contributing to my divorce. But I wouldn’t trade my daughter for a million bucks.”
“Okay, I’m out of here. I’ve heard enough True Confessions for one day. Later, guys.” Leslie hugged Amy and then disappeared down the hallway and out through the front door.
A minute later, they heard Leslie’s Mustang roar to life.
“She needs a new muffler,” said Kevin and Amy in unison. And then they laughed.
“So, did my little darling drive you crazy, or was she an angel?” Kevin asked, moaning in pleasure as he bit into his bagel.
“We had so much fun. And after her bath we crawled into bed and wrote a story about a girl named Sarah.” Amy smiled.
“You’re kidding.” Kevin’s eyes lit up. “Did you learn anything that could help?”
“You have no idea what I learned. Let me get one of those bagels, and I’ll tell you all about it.” Amy scooted over to the counter. “By the way, Mr. Robertson, would you mind terribly if I took Sarah to weekly Girl Guide meetings when they start up again in the fall?”
“Girl Guides? You mean the cookie people?” Kevin almost choked on his bagel. “Sarah wants to go to Girl Guides?”
“Yep.”
“Oh, man. I never would have...”
“That’s not the half of it.” Amy stuck the bagel into the toaster. “According to Sarah, the psychologist she wouldn’t talk to smelled like ‘rotten bugs’. Her words, not mine.”
Kevin gaped. “You’re joking.”
“Nope.” Amy grinned, mischievously. “I wouldn’t have talked to him either.”
“Tell me more, Ms. MacArthur. I want to hear every word she shared with you.” Kevin poured himself another cup of coffee.
“You cannot tell Sarah I told you any of this,” warned Amy, peeking through the window to ensure Sarah was playing with Rover and wouldn’t overhear her sharing secrets with her father. “I’ve got some of that confidentiality stuff of my own, mister. Brace yourself. Here goes.”
Chapter 10
A month later, Amy rang Kevin’s doorbell, opened the door, and stuck her head inside. “Hello. I’m here as requested.” Kevin had called her at nine o’clock last night and asked her to pop over for breakfast. Since her heart-to-heart with Sarah, Amy regularly dropped by for Saturday morning pancakes, but today was Thursday. So what was up?
“Come on in. We’re in the kitchen,” called the man she could now admit she’d fallen in love with. So much for protect her heart and just experiment with some dating.
Amy strolled into the kitchen and set her purse on the counter. Kevin pulled a chair out for her, and she settled herself at the table. “Good morning, Sarah. And you, too, Mrs. Harris.”
“Morning, Amy,” tittered Sarah, and she burst into giggles.
“Okay, you guys. What’s going on?” Amy felt herself frown.
“Here, this is for today.” Kevin set several hundred dollars beside her on the table.
Amy gasped. “What on earth is this for?”
“Please take my daughter shopping for school clothes. Due to a sudden growth spurt, she’s outgrown almost everything in her closet.”
Mrs. Harris poured coffee into a violet-patterned china mug and set it beside Amy. “I second the idea. At sixty-eight, my arthritic knees are not up to chasing a seven-year-old around the mall looking for that perfect first-day-of-school outfit.”
Amy recalled shopping for new school clothes with her mother. The day had always been fun and included lunch at her favorite fast food place, an ice cream cone at the local parlor before it closed for the season, and then a fashion show for her father when he arrived home from work.
Amy met Kevin’s eyes. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
“Yippee!” Sarah leapt off her chair and threw her arms around Amy’s neck. “I can wear big girl clothes now.”
Amy looked at Mrs. Harris and whispered, “What’s she talking about?”
Mrs. Harris laughed. “Little girls wear up to 6X. Sarah wears a size 7 now. You’ll be looking in the 7 to 14 section.”
“Oh, good to know. Thank you.” Amy turned her attention back to Sarah. “We’re going to have so much fun spending your dad’s money.” Amy winked at Kevin and playfully swatted Sarah’s behind. “Hurry up and finish your breakfast. We’ve got shopping to do, girl.”
Mrs. Harris set a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of her. “Fortify yourself, Amy. You’re going to need all the energy you can muster up.”
“Oh, come on. How bad can it be?” Amy was looking forward to a fun day, pretending Sarah was her own little girl.
****
A second before Kevin headed out the door to work, his doorbell rang. He finished tying his shoe and whipped open the front door. Sally Wilson stood on his front step, sipping a cup of take-out coffee.
“Good morning. I hope you don’t mind me stopping by without calling first.”
“No problem. What’s up?”
“Is anyone home?”
“Just my housekeeper.”
“Let’s talk outside. This relates to work.”
“Okay.” Kevin grabbed his car keys off the small wooden table beside the door and stepped outside closing the door behind him.
He and Sally strode side-by-side down the sidewalk toward her car.
“Amy took Sarah shopping for school clothes at the mall today. Mrs. Harris wasn’t up to it, and I wouldn’t know where to start. Thank goodness, Amy agreed to take her.” Kevin shook his head. “I swear Amy was actually looking forward to it.”
Sally smiled. “Amy might love Sarah more than she loves you.”
Kevin’s mouth fell open.
“Don’t look at me like I’ve grown a second nose. You know Amy loves you. And you love her, too, whether or not you’re willing to admit it.” Sally wagged her finger at him. “She’s a keeper, Kevin Robertson. You’d better not let that wonderful woman slip through your fingers.”
“I know.”
“Wondered if you’d heard the news. They arrested Amy’s thief again.”
“Yeah, Garrett told me yesterday.”
“At his parents’ insistence, he’s back in rehab under lockdown.” Sally opened her patrol car door.
“Yeah, I know that also. I won’t be worrying anymore about Amy, home alone every night. But Rover would have alerted her if anyone had been lurking outside her house.” Kevin shrugged. “The guy was never spotted anywhere near her neighborhood. Pro
bably doesn’t even remember where he broke in.”
Sally frowned. “What would the authorities have done if he’d shown up at her house, broken in again when Amy was out somewhere with Rover, and waited inside for her to return?”
“Rover would have barked. He would have realized the guy was inside and that he was an intruder.”
“Yeah? And what if Amy had dropped Rover at the groomers and returned home alone?” Sally stood, glaring.
Kevin felt the blood drain out of his face. “Shit. I never considered that possibility.”
“We’re just fortunate everything turned out well. I swear if anything had happened to her,” growled Sally. “Amy has become a friend, and I hated keeping this from her. You’d better take good care of her or you’ll be answering to me.”
“I will. I promise.” Kevin dragged a hand through his hair. A dozen alternative outcomes raced through his mind. None of them good. The police had been extremely lucky, finding Blaine before he did something stupid. Very lucky. In fact, perhaps he should buy a lottery ticket.
****
Amy pulled into an available spot at the busy shopping mall. It was only the third week of August and already some leaves were yellowing on the trees that edged the mall’s parking lot. Autumn, her favorite time of year, would arrive before she knew it.
“Here goes nothing, kiddo.” Amy smiled as she climbed out of her Lexus. A shopping spree with a seven-year-old was the last thing she expected to be doing today. But she couldn’t wait to get started. “Let’s see what we can find for somebody in Grade Two. I’ll bet there are some really cute outfits in the stores.”
“Let’s go!” Sarah crawled out of the back seat, grabbed Amy’s arm, and pulled her toward the mall door.
Three hours and several stores later, Amy had heard ‘isn’t this pretty?’ so many times she’d lost count. Sarah loved anything pink or purple, either alone or in any combination. She’d bought long-sleeved t-shirts, sweaters, jeans, skirts, cartoon hoodies, and sneakers for school. They finally agreed on two dresses with a new pair of black patent shoes for special occasions. With the salesclerk’s help, Amy found the proper sizes for underwear, pajamas, tights, and socks. A sparkly-decorated rose-colored parka caught Sarah’s eye, and Amy allowed her to try it on. Of course, it fit perfectly with a bit of room to grow. Amy decided she probably required a new coat for winter. Into the shopping cart it went, too. Her father could purchase new boots just before the snow started flying.
When they finished at the last checkout counter, Amy was amazed at how reasonable the cost of Sarah’s clothes had been in comparison to the exorbitant prices the stores charged for her designer ladies’ wear. And Sarah’s closet would contain everything needed for school and the coming winter.
En route to the hair salon, Amy bought herself one pair of taupe pumps and a pretty emerald green dress she noticed on sale in the store window and couldn’t resist. Her feet ached; she’d worn her favorite two-toned blue heels with her jeans this morning not realizing Kevin planned an all-day shopping spree with his daughter. Her head pounded from the loud music playing in the stores, and it was definitely time for some pampering.
An hour later, Sarah and Amy admired each other’s new haircuts. Amy’s hair was cropped by a good six inches to just below her shoulders and styled in an upswept do. Sarah’s long curls were trimmed a couple of inches and piled on her head in an upswept style that she loved because it matched with Amy’s.
Manicures were next on the agenda, and Sarah beamed, obviously feeling very grown up. Amy marveled at how long the little girl had sat still while the technician polished and dried her tiny nails. Amy enjoyed a pedicure and beamed with pride listening to Sarah read a story to another customer’s three-year-old son while she waited for her.
“Thank your daughter for keeping Billie occupied,” whispered the child’s mother.
“Oh, she’s not...” Amy didn’t finish correcting the woman. If she ever had a daughter, Amy hoped she’d be as lovable and special as Sarah. “I’ll tell Sarah you appreciated her help. She really enjoys reading.”
Her statement was true, too. Sarah had made remarkable strides during the weeks that Amy helped her with her reading this summer. They visited the library together every Wednesday afternoon and checked out an armload of books for Sarah to read herself, and for Mrs. Harris’ bedtime stories.
Finally, Amy and Sarah headed home. When they entered Kevin’s townhouse, Sarah insisted she try on every outfit—a fashion show for Mrs. Harris. Amy carefully removed the tags so Sarah wouldn’t attempt it later and damage some of her new clothes. After Mrs. Harris gushed over each outfit and after Sarah removed each piece, Amy hung the clothes in Sarah’s closet or tucked them into her drawers. With the fashion show finished, Amy explained the system—jeans and tops were grouped together in the closet, and socks, underwear and pajamas lay in their own drawers. Sarah promised to keep her clothes hung up and her dresser drawers tidy. And Mrs. Harris offered a heartfelt thank you, insisting again that such an outing would have killed her.
At five o’clock, Amy graciously declined the invitation to stay for dinner. She explained that she’d left Rover in the house, and he would require a trip outside by now. She made a hasty exit.
When she arrived home and walked into her bedroom, she thought she’d wandered into a winter whiteout. The white stuff, however, was feathers. One of her decorative pillows from atop the bed lay limp on the floor. Rover sat in the middle of the carpet with feathers sticking to him everywhere: on his tail, in his fur, in his ears, up his nose. A couple of them lay perfectly flat on his head resembling a feather fascinator like the elaborate ones the British royals were so fond of.
“What have you done?” asked Amy, dismayed. She laughed aloud in spite of the mess. “Did you enjoy yourself? I noticed a small tear in the seam of that pillow a couple of days ago. But I didn’t think it was a big deal. Wrong!”
After dragging out the broom, dustpan and vacuum cleaner, she spent over an hour cleaning up the worst of the mess. “You realize that you’re a very bad dog, right?” Amy scowled at Rover. “This is not funny. It could take years before I stop finding feathers in here when I do the weekly cleaning.”
After Amy brushed the feathers out of his fur and vacuumed them up, Rover lay on his bed, head on his paws, appearing to be pondering the scolding. Amy could see the cogs turning in his head, wondering why something that had been so much fun could be considered wrong.
Finally, she fed Rover, popped two painkillers to dull her headache, and crawled between her satin sheets. Too exhausted for food, she intended to sleep for a couple of hours and eat something when she woke up. The way she felt, it might be breakfast.
“I thought little girls were a lot of fun, but they are very high maintenance,” she mumbled into the darkened room as she drifted off to sleep. “And Rover, if you ever play with another feather pillow you’ll be banished to your doghouse.”
****
Amy awoke with a start and realized the shrill ringing was coming from the phone on the bedside table. She leaned over and patted the table, finally locating the phone.
“Hello,” she croaked with a mouth dry from sleep.
“Hi there, beautiful. How was your day?” asked a familiar, cheery voice.
Kevin’s greeting made her smile. “Your daughter dragged me through more stores than I can count. Everything Sarah laid eyes on elicited an ‘isn’t that pretty?’ from her. You have the makings of a serious fashionista on your hands. God help your bank account when she turns sixteen.”
“Years away.” Kevin chuckled.
“You say that now. Before you know it she’ll be asking for money for a prom dress and contemplating what college to attend.” Amy grinned, visualizing the expression on Kevin’s face. “And, by the way, we spent every cent of your money.”
Kevin chuckled. “I’d hoped you would. Go back to sleep, beautiful. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Chapter 11
; By the first Monday in September, autumn hovered around the corner. But Amy would never have known it by the mercury in the outdoor thermometer nailed to her deck.
The neighborhood kids were days away from returning to school. Everyone in Amy’s circle of friends had returned to the city from cottages and holiday vacations. There would be no more spur-of-the-moment backyard parties, no more lazy days at the beach. And Amy loved the idea of returning to a normal routine.
However, hosting her annual Labor Day backyard barbecue was Amy’s favorite party of the year. At least thirty of her writing pals, friends from the food bank, or lifelong friends like Leslie and their families attended. Guests lounged in her back lawn, played croquet, or tossed a Frisbee with the assortment of dogs, or threw a baseball back and forth. Several guys loved shooting baskets on the front driveway, and the annual tournament started after Amy served her special cake—the theme changed every year. This year, an assortment of edible dog images covered the chocolate-iced vanilla slab, in honor of Rover’s adoption.
She always supplied burgers and steaks flavored with her secret sauces. All of her friends brought salads and side dishes. The makeshift bar she’d set up on the portable metal table out on the deck sagged under an ice-filled cooler of assorted brands of beer and an array of wines and liqueurs that everyone contributed to the occasion. A cooler with bottled water and pop for the kids stood under the table within the children’s easy reach.
By six o’clock Amy was stuffed to the gills with the delicious meal, and she leaned back in a wooden Adirondack chair. This was her first opportunity to sit down all day.
“I’m so proud of Rover, Leslie.” Amy smiled and sipped a lite beer. “He growled at a couple of our friends’ husbands when they first arrived, but as soon as I assured him they were a friend, his tail started wagging and he settled right down.”
“He turned out to be such a good dog.” Leslie clinked glasses with Amy and toasted the canine. “And he’s the perfect pet for you.”
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