“Too bad you didn’t tell that to my teachers in North Carolina. That’s half the reason my Dad dragged me out to Alpine Grove. It was either move to Alpine Grove with him or get shipped off to military school.”
“From what you’ve said before, I think you may have had some bad influences back East.”
Drew grinned. “If you mean my burn-out so-called friends, yeah—I think they would count as bad.”
“Well, given your Cedar County High School transcript, and your later accomplishments as an author, I think your father did the right thing. Plus, if he hadn’t dragged you out West, I never would have met you, so I’m very glad he did.”
“Yeah, I know. Me too.” He smoothed her windblown hair from her face and looked out at the view. “Thanks, Dad, wherever you are.”
Chapter 10
Ventilation & Conversation
Kat came upstairs into the living room, where Joel was sitting on the sofa with Dixie, the small brown puppy, curled up in his lap. She sat down next to them. “Are you ready to relinquish puppy-sitting duty?”
He looked up from his book. “Oh sure, wake her up, why don’t you? This was the easy part. Earlier, I pulled the remote control for the stereo and several books out of her mouth. She may be small, but she is a chewing machine.”
“Do you suppose the library will notice the tiny teeth marks in that romance novel?”
Joel nodded and put his hand on Dixie’s back as the puppy stood up and yawned. “I think you may need to give up on that one.”
Kat gathered the puppy in her arms and leaned back so she could snuggle Dixie to her chest. “But she’s so cute. Who could resist this face?”
“You’re such a softie.”
“Apparently, so is Drew. The poor guy looked pretty tired when he dropped her off.” Kat held the wagging puppy up in front of her. “You’re running your Dad a little ragged, aren’t you?”
“When is Drew coming back?”
Kat stroked Dixie’s head. “About a week, I think. He said he has to deal with a deadline.”
“A deadline for what?”
“I have no idea. He didn’t say.” Kat put the puppy on the floor and handed her a chew toy. “Speaking as someone with my own deadlines I don’t want to discuss, I didn’t want to ask.”
“How’s the article going?”
“Not too well. I don’t know why I put myself through this stupidity every time I get a new article assignment. If I would just sit down and write, it would help. I have this whole internal war going on. It’s a miracle I finished the one that was due while you were gone.”
“It didn’t sound like fun.”
Kat leaned forward and put her elbows on her knees, observing the puppy’s enthusiastic chewing. “Writing at three in the morning does not result in my finest prose.”
Joel rubbed her back. “And you didn’t have your free proofreader around.”
“I know. You always find stuff. The editor even made a comment about a word I misused. It was one of those things a spell-checker doesn’t find, and it was embarrassing. I’m amazed they gave me another article to do.” Kat shook her head. “I’m not sure I’m cut out for this type of work.”
“You’re a good writer.”
“But the whole uncertainty of it makes me nuts. It’s a miracle I managed to get this writing job, and if I screw it up I have nothing.”
“You can find something else.”
“According to the freelance-writing books, I should be doing that now. Every week I should be sending out ten or twenty stirring query letters that make editors swoon so that I will have a steady income.”
“Well, you could do that, right?”
“But I don’t want to.” Kat sat up and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I hate writing query letters. The whole process is dumb and largely a waste of time. You do endless research, write up all these ideas, and just throw them out there into the wind, hoping some random editor might be interested. The editor at the magazine I’m writing these articles for now said they get hundreds of queries every week. And they never even look at them, because they set up an editorial calendar and assign writers to the articles. Right after I got my computer, I sent out a bunch of query letters that led to nothing. I got this writing job from a classified ad looking for writers, not from a query letter.”
“Well, in a few months you can start boarding more than one or two dogs at a time. That will help the income stream.”
Kat turned to look at him. “Every time I look at the construction estimates I have a mini heart attack. What if I blow my entire inheritance on this and it doesn’t work?”
Joel put his hand on her arm. “Starting any business has costs and risks. We’ve talked about this a lot. What’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure. Cold feet? It’s just that as we get closer to actually building the kennel, the whole thing gets more real, I guess. Seeing the plans the architect drew up made it even more real. Not to mention writing the check.”
“Well, one thing is that you’ve already been running the business in a small way and found out you’re good at it.” He grinned. “You even have repeat customers.”
“That’s true. I have seen quite a few of these dogs more than once. But some of the experiences were, uh, difficult. Or messy. Or both.”
“Well, if you’re talking about Arlo, it should be easier once you have a kennel that’s easier to clean.”
Kat leaned back on the sofa and stared at the ceiling. “I’m not sure the rug can be saved. I think Arlo pushed it over the edge.”
“That stain is kind of gross.”
She turned her head to look at Joel. “But what if I’m making a huge mistake? All of this affects you too, since you live here. That means you get to do things like remove critters from walls, baby-sit puppies, and walk dogs.”
“I know. Usually when you start to have doubts like this, it helps to remember why you want to start the business in the first place.”
“Well, every time I think about returning to working in a cubicle I want to throw up.”
“Let avoidance of nausea be your guide.”
Kat nudged him in the ribs. “Very funny. I’m serious. This is going to be a lot of work.”
“I know.” He leaned back on the sofa and reached out to caress her cheek. “But honestly, what’s the worst thing that happens? The business fails, and then we’ll do something else. The house is paid for, so it’s not like you won’t have a roof over your head. We’ll figure something out.”
“You’re right. I think I just needed to do some recreational whining.”
Joel cocked his head. “I don’t hear chewing.” He sat up and looked down at the floor in front of the sofa. “Dixie has made a break for it.”
Kat looked around the room. “Again? What a sneak. That little thing is seriously stealthy.”
The small puppy ran out of the bedroom with a pair of underwear dangling from her mouth. Kat and Joel both leaped off the sofa and ran after her. Kat said, “Dixie, come back here!”
Joel got to the puppy first, picked her up, and extracted the panties from her mouth. He held them out to Kat with a grin. “I believe these are yours.”
Kat examined the torn fabric. “That’s a little too much ventilation. I think these need to go with the rug on the next dump run.”
“Well, you said Maria wanted to go shopping.”
“She’s gonna be disappointed when she finds out about the lingerie-shopping options in Alpine Grove. The KMart out on the highway is not exactly Victoria’s Secret.”
Joel stroked the puppy’s fur thoughtfully. “I suppose not. Their ads certainly aren’t as much fun.”
Over the next few days Beth worked on her dissertation and read over Drew’s changes on his book after he revised various sections. Having him around was encouraging her to write because he mentioned techniques like target daily word counts. As a result, she had made significant progress on her own gigantic writing project. Having a file full o
f actual text for her dissertation was somewhat startling after not getting anywhere on the written portion for so long.
Drew emerged from the guest room and flipped a floppy disk onto Beth’s desk. “That’s it. I’m done.”
“Really?” Beth grabbed the disk and put it into the drive of her computer. “I can’t wait to read it. The changes you’ve made so far have worked out so well. I know your editor is going to love it.”
“You can read it later. We need to get outta here.” He took her hand, pulled her up from the desk, and gave her a hungry kiss. “Where are the car keys?”
Gasping for breath, Beth pushed him away and pointed at the kitchen. “Wow. Over there. In the drawer.”
Drew released her and ran to the kitchen. Grabbing the keys from the drawer, he raised his arms over his head and yelled, “Road trip!”
Beth giggled, grabbed her purse and followed him outside, locking the door behind her. As they got into the car, she said, “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
After navigating south, they got onto Interstate 10 heading east. Beth looked at the on-ramp sign and then at Drew. “I really don’t want to go to El Paso, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Neither do I, but I don’t want to leave the great state of Arizona without seeing the town too tough to die.”
“What?”
“Tombstone! Come on, Beth. Wyatt Earp? Doc Holliday? The O.K. Corral? It’s the Old West at its finest. I can’t miss out on that.”
It was the first mention Drew had made of leaving and Beth wasn’t sure what to say. Obviously, he was setting up a life in Alpine Grove and he couldn’t board Dixie forever. But she had enjoyed the last few days so much, she didn’t want him to go. “It’s a bit of a drive. I’ve never been there before.”
Drew glanced at her. “That does not surprise me.”
“I think you just want to get on the freeway so you’ll have an excuse to drive fast.”
“Well, there is that. But I’m done with my revisions, so it’s time to celebrate. And where better to do that than at an authentic Old West saloon?”
Beth touched his forearm. “I had no doubt you’d finish it.”
“Well hey, at least one of us was optimistic.”
Later, Beth and Drew walked hand in hand down the shaded wooden boardwalks of Tombstone’s Allen Street, gazing at the window displays and chatting about the various souvenirs, artwork, and Old West memorabilia. They arrived at a building with a sign that said the establishment served ‘good whiskey and tolerable water.’ Drew grinned at Beth, “Looks like an authentic saloon to me.”
They entered the dimly lit eatery, which had a long dark wooden bar running along one side of the room. Behind the bar was an immense mirror and cabinets full of hundreds of bottles of liquor, including many selections of whiskey. It seemed that the sign out front didn’t lie.
Beth sat down at a table. “This place looks like something out of a movie set.”
Drew picked up a menu and peered over it at Beth. “I’ll let you know if I see Wyatt Earp or Big Nose Kate.”
“You won’t see Kate. Her establishment is across the street.”
“Maybe we can go there next.”
After lunch Beth reached across the table to take Drew’s hand. “Congratulations on finishing your book. Do you feel this has been a suitable celebration?”
“I don’t know what counts as suitable. But it has been fun. Lunch was great. And now I can say I’ve seen the Boot Hill Graveyard and the O.K. Corral. And you can too. You can’t complain about not seeing anything around Tucson any more. Maybe it will take you less than ten years to get around to visiting the Space Needle in Seattle.”
“Drew, I’m not moving to Seattle.”
“Yeah, I know. You haven’t gotten the job yet. But you will. Unless they are incredibly stupid, in which case you don’t want to work there anyway. But don’t worry, some other company will come knocking before you know it.”
Beth squeezed his hand. “I don’t want to work at a place like that or live in Seattle. After the interview, I sent them an e-mail and told them I wasn’t interested. It was before you arrived. I thought about it and realized that I am enjoying myself too much here. I don’t want to take another management job or move.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. Take my stained-glass class. Go hiking. Work on my PhD. I’ve been relishing the process of evaluating my research and writing my dissertation.”
Drew leaned back in his chair. “You’re having a good time writing? Really?”
Beth grinned. “Well it’s been more fun since you’ve been here agonizing over your own words in the next room. But yes. I did a tremendous amount of research and it’s been enjoyable delving back into it and actually writing up my conclusions.”
“Interesting.”
Beth folded her hands in front of her on the table. “That word never means anything tangible when you say it. What are you really thinking?”
“It’s just not like you to not be going places, as you like to say.”
“I just want to be happy. I have a severance package, so I don’t have to map out the rest of my career right now. My mortgage is tiny and my car is paid for. This is the first time I’ve had the financial freedom to just do whatever I want. You got to do that, and maybe I’m a little jealous. So I’m going to take advantage of this opportunity. First I want to finish my PhD.” She took a sip of water. “I may also create some potentially homely stained-glass artwork. Perhaps my ability to cut glass without breaking it into tiny shards will improve by the end of the class.”
“What about the future and everything being perfect?”
“Nothing is ever perfect. I shouldn’t wait for some illusory determination of perfection to begin enjoying my life.”
Drew grinned. “You won’t get any argument from the lazy underachiever over here.”
Beth took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “How many times do I have to apologize for that?”
“Maybe once more. I think one more time would be good.”
“I’m sorry, Drew. Please believe me.” Beth put her glasses back on. “And one more thing. I know you don’t trust me, but I am not going to give up on us, even though you’ve opted to move to Alpine Grove. I love you and I want to be with you. If that means I have to visit the frozen tundra or coax you out here to the desert again, I will. I don’t want to lose you a second time.”
Drew took one of her hands in both of his. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Beth.”
“Good. Because I am not making this up. I mean it.”
Drew was quiet on the drive back to Tucson, holding Beth’s hand for most of the trip as they cruised along the freeway, letting go only to shift gears. They went back into the house and Beth went to her desk, flipped on her computer, and sat down. She smiled at him. “You can’t distract me from reading the end of your book now. I have to know what happened.”
He leaned over to give her a kiss. “Okay. I’m gonna try to clean up the disaster area that used to be your guest bedroom.”
Later, Beth looked up from the screen as Drew walked back into the living room. He glanced at her face and his eyes widened. “Oh jeez, not again. It’s horrible, isn’t it?”
Beth smiled at him and wiped a tear off her cheek. “No. It’s not what you think.”
He walked over and crouched next to the chair. “Bethie, why are you crying?”
“Oh Drew, that was the best ending ever. You did it. These are happy tears.” She took his hand. “When Preston finally kisses Liz, my heart just melted into a little puddle of goo. Your readers are going to love this!”
He grinned. “Well, first it has to get past the cast-iron editor, so we’ll see.”
“You have nothing to worry about. I’m sure of it.” She put her hand on her chest. “And you dedicated it to the Real Liz Logan. I can’t believe it.”
“Well it woul
dn’t be done if it weren’t for you, Liz.”
“I found a couple little typos that I marked in the file.” Beth pulled the disk out of the drive. “Here you go. I know it’s not a romance, but after six books, it was about time our hero and heroine got a break. They have the most amazing connection and they deserve it after all they’ve been through. I’m so happy. Well done.”
Drew stood up, took the disk from her, and put it on the desk. “Thanks.” He took her hand, encouraging her to leave the desk. “Hey, can you come over here for a minute? I need to talk to you.”
Beth followed him to the sofa. “I know you have to leave. I’ve been trying not to think about it.”
“Yeah, I do. I need to collect my small hungry puppy before she chews her way through Kat’s entire house.”
Beth giggled. “Between Arlo and Dixie, that place is never going to be the same.”
“I know. I told Kat I’d pay for any damage. For such a tiny thing, that animal sure is expensive.”
“My mom said she got the sofa fixed. I called for a number of repair estimates and left her a check to cover it.”
“Thanks Beth. I’ll pay you back. There’s something else I’ve been thinking about.”
“You have been rather quiet.”
“What you said in Tombstone…that I don’t trust you. You’re right.” He looked away from her, out the window. “I want to trust you. I really do. But there’s a part of me that thinks the moment you get a job offer from some huge company or I do something to piss you off, that will be the end of it again.”
“No, Drew, I told you, I’m not going to…”
He turned back to her. “Beth, no. I know what you’re going to say and there’s no way you can promise you won’t get angry again, just like I can’t promise I won’t take to my bed like some type of Southern belle with the vapors. No one can predict the future. But what I do know is that we are way better when we’re together than when we’re apart. Did I ever tell you how I started writing novels?”
Beth shook her head. “I did wonder how that came about.”
“Well, you know that I used to sketch people. On my travels I had notebooks filled with doodles and scribbles. After a while, I started adding words, since a lot of times I didn’t speak the language, so I just made up stuff to amuse myself.” He grinned. “Putting words in people’s mouths was fun. Basically, I ended up with kind of crappy comic books. But then I started writing more words than drawing and I ended up with notebooks full of impressions of people. Character sketches, you might say.”
Bark to the Future (An Alpine Grove Romantic Comedy Book 5) Page 23
