“Do you know anything about wine?” Fernando said, taking a sip himself. He gagged. “This tastes like a footbath. You two have no palate whatsoever.”
“Footbath, my ass!” Pappy said, as Fernando gathered the glasses and stormed into the kitchen.
Pappy and Powderkeg watched him go. Powderkeg turned over two coffee mugs sitting on the table and Pappy poured them more wine. They toasted each other.
“To young wine and old women!” said Pappy.
* * *
Professor Johnson jumped to his feet as the porch floorboards groaned. His head no longer filled with hope that every sound on the front steps meant Dymphna had come back, but his heart was slow to catch up. Thud stopped snoring and raised his head before deciding to go back to sleep. The front door creaked open. It was Maggie . . . and her pheromones.
“Am I disturbing you?” she whispered.
That’s a loaded question, Professor Johnson thought.
Without waiting for an answer, Maggie made a show of sneaking in stealthily, a finger to her rounded lips, making an inaudible “shhh” gesture. She perched herself on the end of the lopsided couch. Professor Johnson looked around the room, wondering how far away from this woman he could sit and not be rude. He decided to stand.
“I was bored,” she whispered. “I saw your light on and thought I’d stop in.”
“That’s fine,” Professor Johnson said softly. “Why are we whispering?”
Maggie pointed to Thud.
“I don’t want to wake the dog,” she said.
“Thud is a very determined sleeper,” Professor Johnson said in his normal register.
The sound of his voice seemed to ricochet around the room, surprising Thud, who scrambled to his feet and looked around, confused. Maggie burst out laughing. She knelt down on the floor and patted the dog.
“I guess your dog isn’t the brightest tool in the shed,” Maggie said, scratching Thud behind the ears.
Professor Johnson wanted her to leave. He was pretty sure she didn’t care that she had just mixed a ridiculous metaphor or that she had just insulted Thud, who was an extremely intelligent animal, in his own way. But as he watched Maggie snuggling Thud, her breasts jiggling on either side of the dog’s head, he lost his train of thought.
“How are things working out with Powderkeg?” Professor Johnson asked when the blood had returned to his brain.
“At the shop?” Maggie said. “It’s fine. That machine he bought to sew boot leather is pretty scary. I might ask Titan if I can hang out at the forge instead.”
“You’ve only been working at Powderkeg’s for less than a week,” Professor Johnson said. “Don’t you think you should give it more time?”
“I don’t know. Maybe,” Maggie said, looking up at him through her double row of eyelashes. “But have you seen that fairy-tale carriage Titan is building? I’d love to work on that.”
He chastised himself. He’d been so preoccupied with the nuts and bolts of getting the wine business off the ground that he hadn’t stopped in at the forge to see how Titan was getting along. He knew the man was grieving for his lost buzzard, but a little moral support wouldn’t have hurt. He needed to correct that.
“I’ll go see it tomorrow,” Professor Johnson said.
“Cool. I’ll go with you. Unless you don’t want me,” Maggie said, a small smile forming on her lips. “Do you want me?”
“Want you?” Professor Johnson was starting to sweat.
What is this woman talking about?
“Do you want me to go with you to Titan’s?”
“I . . . I hadn’t thought about it.”
“Well,” she said, giving Thud’s head a final pat and curling up on the sofa as her voice grew husky, “think about it.”
Professor Johnson looked at Thud, who seemed to be saying “I got nothin’.”
“I suppose I don’t really see what difference it would make.”
Maggie’s face fell. In that moment, she looked soft and vulnerable, like Dymphna. She put her hands over her face.
Is she crying?
“I’m sorry,” Professor Johnson said, coming over to the couch and placing a hand on her shoulder. “Of course you can come to see Titan with me. Please don’t cry.”
“I thought you liked me.” Maggie snuffled into her hands.
“I do like you,” Professor Johnson said, stroking her hair. He realized now was not the time to quantify that statement. “I’m just not very good at these things.”
Maggie must have had some ninja training. Her arms were suddenly around Professor Johnson. She pulled him on top of her and they tumbled backwards onto the couch. Thud started barking uproariously. Professor Johnson tried to yell at the dog to be quiet—the last thing he wanted was to alert the whole town—but Maggie’s tongue was in his mouth as soon as he parted his lips. He tried to get a grip on the sofa to push himself off her, but Maggie’s breasts seemed to be everywhere. Thud’s barking suddenly stopped. Maggie and Professor Johnson looked up from their tangle.
Dymphna stood in the doorway.
PART TWO
Chapter 11
Dymphna wasn’t sure if the woman had pushed Professor Johnson or he just lost his balance, but either way he landed on the floor. He jumped to his feet and straightened his glasses. Thud rushed to Dymphna. He was standing with his massive bloodhound’s head against her hip. She absently rubbed the soft fur while taking in the scene in front of her.
“I guess I should have called,” Dymphna said.
Her canvas bag sat at her feet. She went to pick it up, but Professor Johnson got there first.
“Let me explain,” he said, clutching her bag to his chest.
“I think the situation is fairly self-explanatory,” she said, trying to retrieve her bag from him.
“It isn’t, I promise,” Professor Johnson said.
“So I didn’t just catch you on my sofa on top of another woman?” Dymphna asked.
“Well, yes,” Professor Johnson said. “I suppose that part is, indeed, self-explanatory, but . . .”
“Hey, Dymph,” Maggie said, sitting up and draping her arm around the back of the couch as if she’d just been invited to watch a movie on Netflix. She patted the seat beside her and Thud leapt up to join her.
Dymphna gave up the wrestling match over her bag. Professor Johnson stood there, not sure what to do with the prize from the tug-of-war.
“You’re right,” Dymphna said to Professor Johnson, who handed her the bag. “It is self-explanatory.”
“It’s been a long day,” Dymphna said, grabbing the bag from Professor Johnson and turning toward the bedroom. “I guess I’ll go to bed and we’ll talk about this in the morning.”
“I see you haven’t changed at all,” Maggie said without facing her. “Five years and you’re still avoiding problems.”
“And I see you haven’t changed either,” Dymphna said. “Five years and you’re still causing them.”
“I thought you were in California,” Maggie said.
“I thought you were in Maine.”
“It gets cold there,” Maggie said. “I wanted a little heat.”
“Mission accomplished,” Dymphna said, glaring at her sister and boyfriend.
Thud whimpered, sensing the tension in the air. Dymphna stopped at the door.
“May I ask what the sleeping arrangements have been?” Dymphna asked. “I certainly want to avoid any problems in my own bedroom.”
“You’ll be happy to know that your uptight boyfriend made me sleep at that damn hotel since I got here,” Maggie said hotly.
“Really?” Dymphna’s posture relaxed. She looked at Professor Johnson and blinked back tears. “I guess that should have been self-explanatory, too.”
She bit her lower lip and Professor Johnson took her in his arms.
“I guess that’s my cue,” Maggie said to Thud. “See you in the morning.”
Maggie slammed the door behind her. Not even Thud reacted to the noise. Dymphna and Professo
r Johnson stood, locked in an embrace. Dymphna wasn’t quite sure why she’d left or why she’d returned. Nothing was settled, but she was grateful that fate had brought her back. The sight of Maggie had inspired a tidal wave of feeling. The accusation that Dymphna ran from her problems hit home.
Maybe I’ll stick this one out.
Dymphna finally broke the embrace to go put her bag on the bed. The old springs let out an exhausted creak. She turned to Professor Johnson in the bedroom doorway.
“I have a question,” Dymphna said.
“Just one?”
“What is my sister doing in Fat Chance?”
“The whole town is wondering that. She hasn’t exactly been full of information.”
“That’s Maggie.”
“It seems to be a family trait.”
Dymphna reddened. She couldn’t very well dispute the accusation. “I can’t stay,” she said. She watched Professor Johnson stop mid-step.
“I mean, I can’t stay this minute,” she continued. “We need to get the rabbits out of the limousine.”
“The rabbits are in a limousine?”
“Yes. But the limo can’t get up the hill to the farm. Jeffries says it’s too long or something . . .”
“Jeffries is here?”
“Of course,” Dymphna said. “Who do you think drove the limo?”
“I’m still processing all of this.”
“Anyway, your aunt is trying to talk Old Bertha into giving all of them rooms and—”
“All of whom?”
“It’s a long story,” Dymphna said.
Professor Johnson hurried out the door behind Dymphna, shutting the door firmly behind him. Thud howled in indignation at being locked in the house, but who could say what kind of a greeting committee a bloodhound would make for three domesticated rabbits?
The moon was only a sliver in the sky, but the path from Main Street to the farm was lit by the limousine’s headlights. Its two bright eyes beamed up at them like a startled animal. Dymphna took Professor Johnson’s arm and filled him in on the details.
As they passed the Creakside Inn, Dymphna saw Pappy hurrying into the building. With the exception of Maggie, and now Pappy, everyone in town was circled around the limousine. Apparently whatever negotiations Cleo had engaged in with Old Bertha were concluded. Even in the dim light provided by the limo, Dymphna could see Polly, Old Bertha, Powderkeg, Titan, and Fernando. She smiled to herself, surprised at how happy she was to see everyone. The addition of shell-shocked Wesley, Erinn, and Jeffries almost made her burst out laughing. Dymphna could see that Cleo was already giving orders. Dymphna realized in surprise that she wasn’t the only one straddling two worlds. Cleo had gone and come back, too.
“Hey, Dymphna,” Polly called out as Dymphna and Professor Johnson stepped onto Main Street.
There were hugs and kisses and shouts of “Welcome back!” While encased in Powderkeg’s bear hug, Dymphna looked up at the second story of the Creakside Inn and could see Maggie’s silhouette in one of the windows. Dymphna wasn’t proud of it, but she was happy to have her sister witness this show of affection.
See? There are people who love me.
Dymphna turned away from the window. Titan stood holding two of the enormous rabbit cages as if they were boxes of cotton. Powderkeg was pulling the last cage out of the backseat. He started to put the cage on the hood of the limo, but a squeak from Cleo stopped him.
“If you were worried about getting a scratch on this thing, you shouldn’t have brought her down the hill,” Powderkeg said to Cleo. “Or better yet, you could have mentioned you were coming in the first place and we could have told you!”
Cleo sniffed. “We’re doing a documentary. We don’t announce ourselves.”
Dymphna saw Erinn’s startled reaction at Cleo’s use of “we.”
“You?” Powderkeg said. “You’re doing a documentary? With Wesley? And Jeffries?”
“We’re facilitating a documentary,” Cleo clarified.
“How are they going to turn this big tub around?” Old Bertha whispered to Powderkeg.
“Maybe Jerry Lee can pull it backwards?” Powderkeg whispered back. “Pappy?”
They looked around. Pappy was nowhere to be seen.
“That old mule of his couldn’t pull a little Fiat, let alone a stretch limo,” Fernando added solemnly.
Jeffries stepped in, positioning himself between Powderkeg and the limo.
“I wasn’t expecting a dirt road,” Cleo huffed. She turned to Wesley. “I thought you said this godforsaken place was paved.”
“I—” Wesley began helplessly, but Powderkeg cut him off.
“Nope,” Powderkeg said. Dymphna could hear the teasing tone she knew Cleo hated. “Just the godforsaken dirt street.”
“We’re in discussions about paving the street,” Professor Johnson said.
“Discussions?” Cleo said shrilly. “There doesn’t need to be a discussion. Just do it.”
“Right now?” Powderkeg asked in his maddeningly mocking tone.
“Don’t start with me, Marshall,” Cleo said, using her ex-husband’s real name.
“Powwwwderkeg,” Powderkeg corrected her, using his best pirate voice. “I left ‘Marshall Primb’ back at your place.”
“I think the debate about the road can wait until morning,” Professor Johnson said, taking the rabbit cage from him.
Dymphna could feel the collective surprise of the townspeople at this statement. Professor Johnson usually seemed ready to talk about the road or grapes anytime, anyplace, anywhere.
Maybe he has had time to reflect, thought Dymphna.
“We can take up the topic at breakfast tomorrow,” Professor Johnson added. “It will be good to have some fresh opinions.”
Or maybe not.
“Jeffries,” Cleo said. “If you can get all the bags into the . . . hotel.”
“No way, Cleo.” Polly stepped in and picked up a bag. “It’s late and this isn’t Beverley Hills. We can all carry bags.”
Polly pulled out her cell phone, snapped on the flashlight app and looked at the luggage tag. “Wesley Tensaw.” She looked up in surprise, finally recognizing the lawyer. “Oh! Mr. Tensaw! What are you doing here?”
“I’ve been asking myself the same question,” Wesley said, looking around him in a daze.
“I guess that can wait till morning, too,” Polly said. “Anyway, here’s your bag.”
Titan, already carrying supplies, including the rabbits, headed for the farm.
“I know you have a lot to organize,” Titan said to Dymphna. “I’ll wait with the rabbits until you come up.”
Dymphna gave Titan a grateful look and returned her attention to the chaos around the limo. Professor Johnson was trying to help Erinn with her camera gear, but Erinn seemed determined that no one should touch the equipment but her.
“What would you like to do about the limousine, Ms. Johnson-Primb?” Jeffries asked.
“I don’t know,” Cleo said wearily. “Turn off the lights and lock it up, I suppose.”
“Lock it up,” Polly said, snorting under her breath. “Like somebody might steal this whale.”
The group moved toward the Creakside Inn. Loaded down with suitcases and duffel bags, they looked like a drunken caravan. Dymphna turned and saw Erinn still standing by the car.
“Erinn!” Dymphna said. “You’ve been so quiet!”
“I’m here as an observer,” Erinn said.
“As Mahatma Gandhi said, ‘Speak only if it improves upon the silence,’” said Professor Johnson.
“Or as Pierre-Joseph Proudhon said,” Erinn added, “ ‘When deeds speak, words are nothing.’”
“Or as Martin Lomasney said,” Professor Johnson retorted, “ ‘Never speak if you can nod, never nod if you can wink.’”
Dymphna stiffened. The two most intelligent people she knew seemed to be in a quoting contest. Dymphna could feel the brain cells flying through the night air.
“Touché,”
Erinn finally said. “Any room for me up at the farmhouse?”
Chapter 12
The next morning, Dymphna was first out of bed.
After they’d lugged the rabbits up the hill the night before, she had decided to put the cages in the tiny bedroom and locked Thud outside the room to minimize the trauma to all the animals. The chickens would cope, but she wasn’t sure how the Angora goats and Angora rabbits would feel about each other. An introduction at midnight seemed a bad idea, so she, Professor Johnson, and Titan had wrangled the cages into her bedroom while Erinn settled herself and her camera gear into the closet-sized guest room.
Dymphna had wanted desperately to ask Titan about Fancy. She could tell by his defeated posture that the news was not good, but she wanted him to know she cared. She turned to Professor Johnson, who was trying to get Earrings’ cage to sit straight.
“Do you think you could find some large towels to cover the rabbit cages for the night?” she had said to Professor Johnson.
“We have large towels?” Professor Johnson asked, looking at her in surprise.
The farmhouse was 320 square feet with a pencil-thin linen closet. There really wasn’t anywhere for large towels to hide.
“I’ll go look for large towels,” the professor had said and left the room.
Titan didn’t seem to hear. Dymphna reached out a hand and touched his shoulder. He turned around and stared at her. She could tell he was struggling to keep his emotions under control.
“Do you want to talk?” she asked, sitting on the sofa and patting the place beside her.
Out of nowhere, Thud had bounded up onto the sofa, his tail thumping the cushion. He had found a way to sneak back into the house. Titan let out a quick bark of a laugh. It was good to hear Titan laugh. He scooted Thud out of the way and took a seat. Thud rebounded and settled in the spot between them. The springs in the old sofa were so terrible that once Titan sat, Dymphna’s feet left the floor as the cushion tilted violently to one side.
“Sometimes, people . . .” Dymphna began. “Sometimes people . . . including buzzards . . . just need a break to clear their heads.”
“Are you talking about Fancy or you?” Titan asked without looking at her.
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