Лори Касс - Wrong Side Of The Paw

“Where?” I called after them. “To do what?”

Neither one of them answered. I did hear laughter, but since that didn’t explain anything, I abandoned my unpacking without a qualm—after all, my aunt had invited me to follow them—and I wandered downstairs, curious and mystified.

By the time I reached the living room, where Eddie was still sleeping on the back of the couch, I’d come up with all sorts of theories about what it might be time for. An evening cocktail was a strong possibility, but somehow that didn’t seem to fit. Other ideas ranged from going for an evening walk (a little late, but possible) to making a crank phone call (nine point nine on the unlikely scale of one to ten) to choosing colors for their wedding (about nine point eight on the same scale).

I followed the sounds of voices and tracked down Aunt Frances and Otto in the kitchen, where they were looking into the cupboard that held baking supplies.

“How about red?” my aunt asked.

Otto nodded. “Cheerful, yet not over the top. An excellent choice. Then again,” he said thoughtfully, “with Minnie here, it’s a sort of celebration. Perhaps we should go with gold.”

“Or blue,” my aunt said. “Choosing her favorite color might be appropriate.”

Nope, I had no idea what was going on here. “What are you two doing?”

Aunt Frances glanced over her shoulder. “Picking sprinkles for the Thursday night ice cream, of course.”

I blinked, then started laughing. “You sound like you’re choosing a wine to go with a meal you’re serving the president of the United States.”

“Sprinkles are a serious business,” Otto said with a straight face, which made me laugh even harder.

“When the last boarder left in September,” Aunt Frances said, taking out the canister filled with gold sprinkles, “we had a dish of ice cream. It happened to be a Thursday night, so we’ve had ice cream every Thursday since. I don’t remember why we started the sprinkles.” She looked at Otto, who was getting three small dishes out of the cupboard. “Do you?”

“Already lost in the mists of time.” He opened the utensil drawer and brandished the scoop. “Is it your turn to scoop, or mine?”

“Yours.”

Amused, I watched the ice cream assembly. “You two have quite a tradition going here.”

“One of many,” my aunt said. “I’m sure you and Ash do things that are just as silly. Would you like whipped cream?” She took a closer look at my face. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly. “I’m fine. And yes, please, on the whipped cream.”

We sat at the round oak kitchen table, ate ice cream, and chatted about nothing in particular, laughing and enjoying each other’s company.

But all the while, part of my mind was far away. Ash and I had fun together, like Aunt Frances and Otto did, but they had something we didn’t. They had sparkle. Together, they were more than the sum of their parts. So much love flowed between them, it was almost visible. Nothing flowed between Ash and me except friendship. We were good friends, but no more than that, and it was time to say so. It wasn’t fair to either one of us to keep on going like this.

“Minnie,” my aunt said, frowning. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“My feet are warm and my tummy is full of ice cream. What could possibly be wrong?” I gave her a bright smile. From the expression on her face, she wasn’t convinced I was telling the complete truth, but she nodded and let it go.

Tomorrow , I told myself. I would have a conversation with Ash tomorrow.

• • •

The next day was just as cold as the previous day had been, and I stopped feeling weak-willed for moving to the boardinghouse early. Aunt Frances didn’t care, the marina didn’t care, and Eddie would yell at me no matter what I did, so why endure a few cold and miserable days for the sake of a self-imposed plan?

At lunchtime, I walked downtown, my head bent against the blustery wind. As I walked, I started composing portions of the long talk with Ash I needed to have as soon as possible.

“You’re a great guy, but . . .”

No. That was a horrible start.

“Ash, we need to talk.”

I winced even as I was saying the words. It might be possible to be more trite, but probably not.

“Do you think something is missing from our relationship?”

Still not great, but better. Satisfied that I had something to work with, I strode forward, head up and eyes forward. Which was why I noticed the efforts of a man wearing a floppy hat trying to maneuver something out of his vehicle. Whatever it was, it was giving him fits. He was yanking at it with great force and threatening it with unimaginative curses. He also looked vaguely familiar.

As I looked at him, trying to remember where I’d seen him before, he gave a loud grunt, a massive tug, and then he and his walker almost fell back into the street when it came free.

“Three Seasons,” I said out loud, hurrying forward. That’s where I’d seen him, the night Ash, his mother, and I had eaten together at the Three Seasons.

The man caught my gaze. “You have a problem?” he asked, practically hurling the words at me.

“Not right now,” I said, smiling and stepping off the curb. He was still struggling with the walker, trying to unfold what looked like, but couldn’t possibly be, seven legs. “Just wondered if you needed a hand, that’s all.”

“I don’t need your help,” he snarled. “What makes you think I can’t take care of myself? Just because I have to use one of these things doesn’t mean I’m an imbecile.”

And just because he had to use one of those things didn’t mean he had the right to be rude to strangers, either.

“My mistake,” I said mildly. Giving him a nod he didn’t return, I mentally shrugged and went back to my main mission, which was hunting down lunch.

Honk honk!

I jumped at the noise and turned to see my friends Cade and Barb in a small SUV, laughing hard enough to hurt themselves.

“You know,” I said, stepping into the street because they hadn’t pulled up to the curb, but were just sitting in the middle of the quiet road, idling, “don’t you both have better things to do than to scare a mild-mannered librarian out of her wits?”

“We do,” Barb said, smiling. “That doesn’t mean it wasn’t funny to see you jump like a rabbit.”

I looked across her to Cade, who was still laughing. “Don’t you have a masterpiece to paint? Or at least a greeting card?”

“Ouch,” he said, putting his hands to his chest. “That got me right here.”

“Pish,” said his loving wife. “You don’t seem to have any problem cashing the fat checks from the greeting card people. Don’t go acting as if it’s beneath you.”

“My dear Barbara.” He glared at her, but a smile tricked up one side of his mouth. “Nothing is beneath me artistically. At least that’s what what’s-his-name in New York said.”

“Pish,” she repeated. “Critics are clueless.”

My ears twitched at the repetition of two C words in a three-word sentence. Was this the beginning of a new game? The McCades and I had a habit of randomly choosing a letter and then finding words starting with that letter to fit whatever ongoing conversation was at hand. Winning the game wasn’t quite as much fun as beating Rafe at a five-dollar bet, but at least losing didn’t cost me anything.

Honk honk!

This time it wasn’t Cade; it was the car behind them. I glanced up and recognized the vehicle as Rafe’s. I stepped back. “See you two later,” I said to the McCades. “We’ll get together before you head to Arizona, right?”

Waving and agreeing, they drove off and Rafe rolled down the passenger’s window. “What’s up, short stuff?”