By Sunday afternoon, Beth had devoured the last of Drew’s Preston Truitt novels. And she was dying to know what happened next. Maybe Drew was still at The Moose. Without her computer, she couldn’t e-mail him. And since she didn’t have her RTP laptop anymore either, she was completely disconnected from the online world for the first time in an extremely long time. But there was still the telephone. If Drew still had his phone on Do Not Disturb, she was just going to march over there and knock on the door. After reading the books, she had to see him.
Beth picked up the phone book and looked up the number for the Enchanted Moose. The surly woman at the front desk explained that Mr. Emery had checked out a week ago. And no, he did not say where he was going. She also told Beth that it was a violation of his privacy to even ask and there was no way she’d tell her where he went, even if he had said. After apologizing meekly, Beth hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment. She’d been so sure Drew was still here in town. It was stupid to be so disappointed when he’d made it extremely clear that he didn’t want to see her again. And now she was going to have to wait with the rest of the world to find out what happened to Preston and Liz. Argh!
The next day, Beth went through the familiar routine of feeding Arlo and heading off to the bookstore. The weather was still dreary and threatening to precipitate in some way. The meteorologists remained undecided as to whether it was going to be rain, sleet, snow, or some form of generalized partially frozen slop. Whatever it did weather-wise, no sun was going to be involved.
Beth walked into the back room and noticed that the boxes of books were unchanged, sitting exactly where she had left them. Obviously, Mom had made zero progress on that front. So Beth still had the interminable sorting project to look forward to, along with another dump run. Yippee. The only thing worse than going to the dump was going to the dump when the pavement was icy.
She unlocked the front door and settled into the chair behind the writing desk. If Mom was reading instead of sorting books while she was here, Beth could too. Something had happened in Drew’s first novel that she wanted to look up again.
Several hours later, she had helped a few intrepid customers who had braved the cold in search of reading material. Because she was reading one of his novels, she also had sold a few of Drew’s books. Depending on his royalties, he’d might have earned fifty cents today here at the store. Beth smirked at the thought of telling him that in an e-mail. He’d be amused.
She looked up and did a double-take. She’d just been thinking about Drew and there he was on the sidewalk, accompanied by an extremely tall woman with sandy blonde hair. Given her body language, she was flirting madly with him. Maybe Drew had found a girlfriend here. He waved toward the store and picked up Dixie in his arms. With one hand, he held the door open for the woman and they walked in. The woman looked disturbingly like Joel Ross and was followed by Arlo, who was moving slowly, even for him. Beth stood up as Arlo toddled around the humans toward her. So that was Cindy, huh?
Crouching down to greet the dog, Beth said, “Hey buddy. Did you want to come by for a visit?” She straightened and looked at Cindy. “Hi, I don’t think we’ve actually ever met, but I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Beth, Margaret’s daughter.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard about you too.” Cindy pulled Arlo away from the bookshelves, “Drew wanted to stop by here.” She waved toward Drew, who grinned. “This is Drew Emery.”
Beth could feel the heat rising to her cheeks at the amused twinkle in his eyes. She knew that look. With a polite smile, she said, “Yes. We’ve met before. In high school, actually.”
Cindy turned to Drew. “You never told me you knew Margaret’s daughter. She went out with my brother.”
Drew readjusted Dixie in his arms and raised his eyebrows at Beth. “Oh really? Did she now?”
“That was a long time ago.” Beth turned to Cindy. “At the time, I believe you were visiting Alpine Grove rather regularly and surreptitiously.”
Cindy put her hand on her hip. “Yeah, I’d met someone who lived here. I suppose Joel told you about that.”
Beth nodded. “How is Joel, by the way? Kat said he was in the hospital, but he was going to be okay. Is he still staying with your aunt?”
“Yeah, he’s fine. Same as ever. My aunt is doing better too, so he should be able to come home soon. Which would be good. He’s grumpy on a good day, but just insufferable now.”
“When I saw him, he didn’t seem particularly grumpy. He looked quite happy actually.”
Cindy rolled her eyes. “Ugh. He and Kat are so nauseating. You’d think the world was going come to an end if he didn’t call her precisely at seven thirty. Then she almost had a nervous breakdown when he was in the hospital.”
Beth glanced quickly at Drew, who still looked amused. From his expression, it was clear he was not interested in Cindy. She pointed down at the dog. “So, ah, Arlo is getting that anxious look.”
Cindy bent to look at Arlo. “Uh-oh. I have a lot of other dogs to get to. I should go.” She looked at Drew. “Maybe I’ll see you and Dixie again tomorrow.”
He inclined his head slightly. “Maybe you will.”
Cindy hustled Arlo out of the store and Beth grinned at Drew, unable to hide how thrilled she was that he was still in Alpine Grove. “So A.J., is this some type of salacious dog-walking date?”
“Not exactly, Liz.” He looked down at Dixie, who was falling asleep in the crook of his arm. “More like our dog-walking paths crossed.”
“The bookstore is a long walk from The Moose. Where are you staying?”
“I was feeling like a hack, so I came by here looking for something to read by a skilled writer for inspiration. I ended up talking to your mom for a while. She told me that Mrs. Oliphant was worrying about her house while she’s in that assisted living place, so I offered to house-sit. I checked out of The Moose. The kitchenette there was starting to get to me anyway. There’s only so much you can do with a hot plate.”
Beth tilted her head. “You were avoiding writing, weren’t you?”
“Yeah. Pretty much. You know how I am.” He waved one arm toward the windows. “But I finished the stupid thing. My deadline was Saturday and I did it! The book is with the editor. Gone. Not my problem. Well, at least until she sends it back for revisions.”
Beth clapped her palms together. “Oh Drew, that’s fantastic. I knew you’d do it. You always do.”
“Well, there’s nothing like having your own words thrown back in your face for motivation.”
“I wondered if you might remember that.” After putting up with her endless angst, how could he not remember?
“I haven’t forgotten much, Beth.” He looked down at Dixie and stroked the pup’s head as she snoozed in the crook of his arm. “But thanks for the e-mails. It helped me finally just suck it up and get it done, instead of agonizing over every little nitpicky thing.”
“Okay, I just have to know how the series ends. You have to tell me…do Preston and Liz end up together? I finished the fifth book and I’m just dying to know what happened.”
“Not really.”
Beth leaned back on the desk and crossed her arms. “What do you mean not really?”
“Liz dies in the last book.”
Beth dropped her arms, stood up straight, and glared at him. “What? You can’t be serious. You killed her off? You actually killed Liz?”
He shrugged. “In the context of the novel, it seemed like the right way to end the story.”
“I just can’t believe this. Your readers are going to want to kill you. I want to kill you. How could you do that?”
“Jeez Beth, it’s just a book.”
Beth crossed her arms again and shook her head. “Unbelievable.”
“Well, since you’re good and pissed-off now, I guess I’ll amble on back to the Oliphant residence. It was good to see you again. Take care.”
Startled from her dark thoughts related to the demise of Liz Logan, Beth stood up again. “Wa
it! Don’t go.”
“Beth, I can’t stand here holding this pup forever. Dixie is gonna wake up or my arm is gonna fall off. It’s hard to say which will happen first.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, would you like to come by for dinner? We could celebrate the completion of your novel. And meeting your deadline against all odds.”
“That’s probably not a good idea.”
“Oh come on, Drew. I think finishing the book deserves some type of recognition. It’s a big deal!”
His doubtful look faded and he smiled. “Well, I am feeling kinda celebratory and there wasn’t anyone around I could really tell about it other than my editor, who mostly just said it was about time. Except maybe with a few extra adjectives thrown in for emphasis.”
“I can imagine.”
That evening the doorbell rang and Beth ran to answer it, followed by Arlo, who was barking hysterically. She opened the door and Dixie ran by her into the house, trailing her leash behind her.
Drew shrugged and walked through the door. “Oops.”
Arlo ran after the puppy, excited to see his walking companion again. Dixie turned and play-bowed, yipping at the larger dog, encouraging him to chase her.
Beth giggled as she bent to remove the puppy’s leash. “Well, Dixie is definitely awake now.”
“That animal has two speeds. Full blast and full stop. Twenty minutes from now she’ll collapse in a corner somewhere and pass out.”
“Hopefully she won’t give Arlo a heart attack first. The poor guy is already panting hard.”
“Now you know how I feel. Between finishing my book and keeping up with this tiny dynamo, I feel like I’ve been rode hard and hung up to dry.”
“But she’s so cute!” Beth waved toward the living room. “Come on in.”
As he walked through the house, Drew turned his head, looking around. “It’s weird to be here again. A lot of things look exactly the same, but little things are different.” He pointed at a chair. “Like that wasn’t here before.”
“Yes. The old one got so stained, Mom couldn’t stand it anymore. She didn’t want to recover it again, so she finally bought something new. It’s actually a great place to sit and read now.”
“That would explain the stack of books on that end table.”
“Yes. One of many stacks of books. Mom needs more shelving. Or fewer books.” Beth glanced around the floor. “Where did Dixie go?”
“I dunno. She’s a wily one and this house is pretty big. Is there a way we can seal ourselves in one room, so I can keep an eye on her?” He waved in the general direction of the street. “I got one of those plastic expandable baby gates for Mrs. Oliphant’s house and I move it from one doorway to another. It’s a little complicated, but hey, I warned Mrs. O that I had a puppy. I guess she’s more worried about her pipes freezing than whatever damage Dixie could do. She might be underestimating Dixie though.”
“Come into the kitchen with me. The soup’s almost done. Mom has a hinged gate here on the door to keep Arlo confined to the linoleum when she’s at the store. There have been a few, uh, deleterious acts committed against the dining room rug.”
They rounded up the canines and closed the gate behind them. Drew gave Dixie a chew toy and she settled into a spot and began gnawing. Arlo stood next to Beth, hoping for some form of food to magically fall on the floor in front of his nose. She looked down at the dog. “You had your dinner. Go lie down.”
Drew sat down at the little bistro table. “That smells great. You must have gone to a lot of trouble.”
“Not really. When I was here before, Mom made about fifty gallons of cream of potato soup and froze it. Fortunately, I know when she did it and what the containers look like. She never labels anything. It drives me insane.”
Drew laughed. “It’s well documented that you’re a little more Type A than your mom.”
“I know. But really, how hard would it be to write “Tomato soup, July” on a little piece of masking tape and put it on the container? When I was here last time, I was trying to figure out what to make for dinner and in the freezer there are five plastic storage items with something reddish inside. Five! Mom said they were either tomato sauce from last summer, gazpacho she made around Christmas, or maybe some leftover V-8.” Beth threw up her hands. “Really, Mom? Come on! If I’m making pasta, I don’t want the V-8.”
“Well you coulda had it, you know.”
Beth rolled her eyes. “Oh please.”
He grinned. “Your mom is organized about some things. She couldn’t run a bookstore if she weren’t.”
“True. And remember when she made you dig up the perennial bed out front? She knew precisely where each and every plant was supposed to go.” Beth smirked. “You were not happy about that.”
“That was a lot of digging. I think I planted a hundred and fifty plants that day, and it was hot. I swear I thought I was gonna die of heat stroke.”
Beth stirred the soup. “You kept saying you had to help your father at the marina. Even Mom knew you were just trying to get out of it.”
“I’m sure I don’t remember that.”
“Yes you do. I know you. You never forget anything, which was even more apparent when I read your books. I really want to talk to you about them.” Beth leaned back on the counter. “But that reminds me. We have to raise a glass and toast to the success of book six!”
Beth went to the pantry and got a bottle of wine. “You have to take this with you when you go. It can’t be here in the house when my mom gets back.”
“Or we could just drink it.”
“I don’t drink much.” Beth rummaged around in the cabinets. “I don’t think Mom actually has wine glasses. Hmm. Okay. How about a tumbler of wine?”
“It’s a glass. I think it should work.”
Beth poured the wine and handed him a glass. “Real wine aficionados would be appalled. They say the shape of the glass affects nuances of the flavor.”
He looked down at the liquid. “Looks drinkable to me.”
Beth raised her tumbler. “Congratulations, A.J.”
“Thanks, Liz.”
They drank and Beth put her glass aside and turned back to the stove to stir the soup. She said over her shoulder, “Did your editor say anything about the book?”
“Nothing beyond ‘Thank God you finally finished it.’ I think it’s going to be a while before she gets over her mad.”
“I’m sure once she reads it, she will love you again. The way you end these things, you just have to read the next book.”
“Well, it’s the last one.” He looked down at Dixie, who had fallen asleep on her chew toy. “I don’t want to talk about that anyway. You’ll just get pissed-off again. I can do without another woman mad at me at the moment. And my editor is nothing, compared to you.”
Beth turned and pointed the spoon at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh come on, Beth. You’ve got a really long fuse, but when you go off, you can dish out a whole lotta whup-ass.”
“I guess that’s fair, after the things I said to you. And you aren’t the only person who has mentioned that.”
“Ya think?” Drew leaned back in the chair and crossed his long legs at the ankles, holding the tumbler of wine in both hands on his stomach. “Presumably, after all those years, your boyfriend might have noticed that you have a bit of a temper. Unless he’s only got one oar in the water, that is.”
“He’s quite intelligent actually. We have long conversations about technology. And the various machinations of university life.”
He sipped his wine. “Sounds interesting.”
Beth glanced at him sharply. Interesting? Okay, maybe there was one thing she couldn’t talk to Drew about. Fortunately, he’d probably never meet Graham. They’d be like oil and water. “I think the soup is done.” She ladled the soup into bowls and carried them to the little table. “Here you go.”
Drew sat up and put his wine aside. “Thanks, Beth. This looks great. After eatin
g my own cooking—and I use that term loosely—at the Enchanted Moose, this is a welcome change.”
They ate quietly for a few moments. Beth stole a glance at Drew across the table. He had a melancholy expression on his face. Something was bothering him. Suddenly, he looked up, catching her staring at him. “Beth, what is that godawful smell?”
Beth looked over at Arlo, who wagged his tail. “Uh-oh. We might want to expedite our consumption. I think Arlo needs to go out.”
Drew stood up and took his bowl to the sink. “Dang, that’ll kill your appetite real fast. And melt down your nasal passages. Yeesh, dog, what is wrong with you?”
Dixie woke up, stretched, and ran around the room a few times, attempting to find the exit. Drew grabbed her and picked her up. “Not so fast, Little One. You’re coming too.”
They bundled up, leashed up the dogs, and went outside. The clouds had cleared off and the air was frigid. Beth looped Arlo’s leash over her arm and pushed it up to her elbow, so she could ram her gloved hands into her pockets. Even buried in multiple layers, her fingers were still cold. Misty breath swirled in front of her face. “It’s freezing out here.”
Drew hunched his shoulders against the stiff breeze that whipped down the street. “No kidding. It’s colder than a witch’s, uh well, yeah, it’s mighty cold.”
“Two days ago, I was wearing shorts and driving around with my sunroof open.”
He grinned. “That sounds dirty.”
“What? No, I got a new car.” Beth smiled. “I love it! It’s a little Acura and it’s so much fun to drive. I even remembered how to drive a stick.” She nudged him with her shoulder. “Good thing you taught me how on the Blue Bomb.”
“Don’t speak ill of the dead. My Datsun may have been a piece of crap, but it was my piece of crap.”
Beth giggled. “It took us to a lot of fun places.”
“Most of the time.” He tugged the lapels of his coat up around his chin and glanced at her. “So if you got a car, does that mean you found a new job?”
Bark to the Future (An Alpine Grove Romantic Comedy Book 5) Page 14
