Tate dropped his pen on his desk and ripped the yellow pages from the legal tablet in order to take them up to Marilee. He preferred her to read his editorials now, instead of Charlotte. Marilee was kinder in her criticism, and she seemed to appreciate his wit so much more than Charlotte.
Charlotte had pointed out that Tate did not want a critic. He wanted agreement. He conceded that this was probably true.
He shut out the light in his office, made sure the ones in the big city room were on that should be on, then stepped out the front door, locking it securely, before heading the couple of yards to the door at the edge of the building—their private entrance to the second floor of the Voice, where they were fashioning a temporary apartment.
Just reaching the door was Ricky Dale, lugging a small plastic animal crate, and beside him was a rather tiny girl.
“Well, good evenin’, Ricky Dale.”
“Good evenin’, Editor.” The boy set the crate down. “This here’s Melody. We come to see Willie Lee. Melody’s puppy is deaf. Her daddy won’t let her keep him if he’s deaf.”
“Ah…well, come on up.” He reached to take the crate, but Ricky Dale said he could carry it. Tate noticed the puppy wasn’t all that big.
“It’s an Australian shepherd. Sometimes if they’re bred too close, they can turn out deaf,” Ricky Dale said in a manner indicating he knew about such things. “Dr. Parker told me, when I was over there. I got a part-time job with him now.”
“That’s good. You’re gonna go places.”
“Yep.”
When they entered the upstairs apartment, Ricky Dale went directly off to Willie Lee’s room, already knowing the way.
Tate went into the partitioned kitchen, where Marilee was preparing supper.
“We got another one…a deaf puppy.”
“Oh, well, maybe Willie Lee can help it.”
“Hmm. I wrote my editorial.”
He laid it on the table, then took Marilee into his arms and kissed her.
“Do it again,” she said, when he lifted his lips.
He kissed her again, and kept kissing her even when a puppy raced into the room and around them barking, with children chasing after it. He’d learned not to let children interrupt his kissing his wife.
ISBN: 978-1-4603-6197-9
AT THE CORNER OF LOVE AND HEARTACHE
Copyright © 2002 by Curtiss Ann Matlock.
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At the Corner of Love and Heartache Page 35
