Down Home Dixie

by Pamela Browning

  Dixie spotted no sign of Andrea’s rental car or Kyle’s truck when she drove up to the house and into the garage. No sign of any people whatsoever. Dixie wished for the umpteenth time that the previous owners of her place had seen fit to attach the garage to the kitchen by a breezeway. Maybe that could be a building project for the future. Right now, she needed to convey Muffin to the house if the cat wasn’t to spend the rest of the day crouching in the back of the Mustang. Anyway, Dixie wanted to show Muffin her new home.

  Dixie leaned into the back of the car to take hold of Muffin. Only the cat’s front paws had been declawed, and Muffin demonstrated a perverse disposition to deliver mighty kicks with her back legs. Somehow, in a flurry of fur and accompanied by wails befitting a banshee, Dixie managed to haul Muffin from the car.

  She dashed through the rain, the cat squalling and kicking, and tried the back door, which she never locked. On this day, however, someone had locked it, and she suspected that the culprit was Andrea, to whom she’d given a set of keys last night. Andrea had frowned when Dixie informed her that the back door always remained unlocked, and Dixie, tired of the conversation anyway, had tossed her the extra set of keys.

  With rainwater sluicing uncomfortably down the back of her neck and probably shrinking her new dry-cleanable suit, which she’d donned that morning to impress Andrea that she was a real businesswoman, too, Dixie tried to summon her wits about her. Kyle might have left his own set of keys in the playhouse, and she could use his to get in the door.

  “Bear with me,” she said to Muffin. She didn’t dare set the cat down, seeing as how Muffin didn’t seem overly enthusiastic about her recent change in ownership. Leland had assured her that Maine coon cats were “gentle, sweet and calm.” All except this one.

  There was nothing to do but to run out to the playhouse with Muffin tucked under her arm like a football, grab Kyle’s house keys off the hook where he’d left them and sprint back to the house.

  She’d no sooner stepped inside the door and set Muffin down with the admonition to “wait right there while I get a towel and dry both of us off,” when a beribboned ball of brown fur rocketed out of the pantry and set up a barking alarm that could have wakened half the dead in Yewville Cemetery.

  Twinkle. Why hadn’t she thought of him?

  Well, because Andrea customarily carried the Yorkie around in her purse, and Andrea’s rental car was missing, presumably parked wherever Andrea was at the moment, and therefore her dog shouldn’t be around, either. A perfectly logical assumption, though there was no logical way of explaining this to Muffin.

  Muffin, uttering one of her banshee yowls, launched herself into orbit. One of her back claws shredded the right foot of Dixie’s new panty hose in transit.

  The dog took off after the cat, and Dixie followed both. Through the hall, past the sewing room, into the living room and, from there, a mad dash upstairs. Muffin managed to stay in front of Twinkle, but the dog was not to be deterred. A flutter of fur, both Maine coon and Yorkie, drifted in their wake.

  By the time Dixie made her way to the second story, Twinkle was jumping and barking, jumping and barking. His ecstasy at having something fun to chase propelled him from the master bedroom to the guest room to the tiny hall closet. Where Muffin had disappeared to Dixie could not figure.

  “Muffin? Muffin?” she called, wary of what Twinkle might do if the cat actually reappeared. To forestall any further attack on the part of the Yorkie, Dixie lured him downstairs with a hot dog from a new packet in the refrigerator, though he seemed less than interested. She shoved his water dish inside the pantry, tossed the frankfurter on the floor and slammed Twinkle inside. Then she went to find the cat.

  The cat, however, seemed to have disappeared altogether. A search of closets, under her bed, the bathroom and the linen closet produced nothing except the desiccated body of a cockroach left behind by the previous owner.

  She really ought to do some spring cleaning around here. Maybe she could start next week.

  Dixie sank down on the overstuffed chair in the corner of her bedroom. She wondered where Kyle and Andrea had gone. Kyle and Andrea, she repeated in her head. I don’t much like the sound of those words in such proximity.

  At least they’d taken their separate cars, which seemed like a good sign. Then again, was it?

  KYLE CAREENED his truck into Dixie’s driveway, unsure what to expect. He’d dropped Twinkle off earlier before running the truck by Smitty’s for an oil change. That had seemed like as good a way as any to spend the afternoon. Andrea’s sedan wasn’t parked in the driveway, and he assumed she’d gone for a drive or something to settle her nerves. He wondered when she’d start to miss Twinkle.

  His heart was gladdened by the sight of Dixie’s Mustang sitting in its usual place in the garage. He bounded up the steps to the house, found the door unlocked and heard Twinkle whining in the pantry.

  “Dixie?”

  No answer. She had to be here, though. He hadn’t shut Twinkle in the pantry, and Andrea never would.

  “Dixie? Honey?”

  He heard a muffled noise from above and took the stairs two at a time. Dixie was huddled in the big chair in the dormer of her bedroom, a tissue pressed to her nose.

  “Dixie, what’s wrong?” He knelt beside her.

  “Everything. Andrea, that awful dog and now Muffin is missing.”

  “Muffin?”

  “My new cat. And you were gone.”

  “I’m here now.” As for the rest of it, he was pretty sure Andrea would be departing soon.

  “Tell me about Muffin,” he said, searching for a safe topic.

  “Leland had to leave town, so I brought Muffin home today and Andrea’s purse dog tried to eat her.”

  “Better he should eat the cat than my ankle,” Kyle muttered.

  “What?” Dixie said.

  “Nothing. I don’t believe that dog could eat a cat, he’s so tiny. Most cats could devour him in one bite.”

  “This cat has no claws. She couldn’t hold him down long enough to eat him, more’s the pity.”

  He slid his arm around Dixie, surreptitiously flicking a stray sequin off the back of his hand before she spotted it. “Let’s you and me go out to dinner, what do you say?” That should cheer her up.

  “It’s raining, my hair’s a mess and we have leftover ham casserole in the refrigerator.”

  Experience had taught him that Dixie didn’t like to waste food, so he dropped the going-out-to-dinner idea. Besides, he loved ham casserole.

  “Your hair will dry as pretty as ever. I’ll make it clear to Andrea that she has to eat someplace else.”

  “Did you make anything else clear today?” Dixie asked, slanting a sideways look at him.

  “She understands there’s no resuming the relationship,” he said. It hadn’t been easy, and he didn’t like to make women cry. Plus, he’d had to drive home with that fool dog making sounds like a food processor as he scarfed up the hamburger in the bottom of Andrea’s purse.

  “If that’s the case, I guess everything will be back to normal around here soon.” Dixie smiled a watery smile, and he kissed her temple.

  “I sure hope so,” Kyle said. “Now, get into some dry clothes. When you come downstairs, I’ll open a bottle of wine.”

  “Okay.” She gave him her hand, and he pulled her up. She began to jettison the wet clothes, which was why Kyle didn’t leave as he’d planned. Dixie stripped all the way down to nude and started reclothing herself from the bottom up. First she shimmied into a pair of lace panties, pulled the matching bra out of a drawer and decided against it. Her breasts were round and firm as she shrugged into a sweatshirt, and Kyle couldn’t pull his gaze away.

  “Anything wrong?” Dixie asked.

  Before he could answer, Andrea’s car drove up. Hearing it, Dixie joined him at the bedroom window. The storm had abated and the sky was clearing.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll handle this,” he said, turning toward the door.

&nbs
p; “Not so fast. Milo’s truck is following right behind her.”

  “Milo? Why is he here?”

  “Don’t ask me.”

  They reached the kitchen in time to greet Andrea as she came in through the back door. Twinkle erupted in a new spate of barking, and Andrea immediately went to the pantry and liberated him. She scooped the dog up in her arms, glowering at Kyle.

  Twinkle started barking again at the approach of Milo and his companion, a small puppy. Not that the pup was walking willingly. She obviously was not yet trained to the leash, and Milo was dragging her behind him like a wagon.

  “Oh, he’s got Minnie Pearl’s daughter,” Dixie said, clearly entranced. She went to the door.

  “Minnie Pearl? Who’s that?” Kyle asked, mystified.

  “Bubba’s coon dog,” Dixie answered.

  “Dixie?” Milo called as he approached. When he reached the screen door, he held up his hand to shade his eyes from the sun, which was now peeking though the clouds. “May I come in?”

  Dixie sighed. “Why not. It seems as if everyone else in all creation is here.”

  Andrea moved to the far side of the kitchen, dropping her aloof and chillingly polite manner to study Milo and his companion. Twinkle kept squirming to get down, and the puppy was wagging her tail. She trotted over to Andrea on a leash that pulled out of a handle.

  “Your Yorkie seems inspired to get to know Starbright better,” Milo offered. He smiled at Andrea, and she stopped frowning.

  “Your dog’s name is Starbright?” she asked.

  “Yup.”

  “Why, mine is named Twinkle. Isn’t that a coincidence!” Andrea set the Yorkie down beside the pup. They were about the same size and immediately started sniffing at each other.

  “Milo, why are you here?” Dixie asked.

  Her former boyfriend seemed momentarily disconcerted but recovered quickly. “I came to apologize for the other night. I shouldn’t have, well, lost control of myself like I did.”

  Andrea perked up, glancing from Milo to Dixie, who blushed slightly. “Oh, that’s all right, Milo,” Dixie said.

  “It was just the stars and moon and the night and all. It reminded me of times gone by. But I didn’t intend to make any trouble between the two of you.”

  “What are you talking about?” Andrea asked.

  “Don’t ask,” warned Kyle.

  Dixie glanced at Kyle, waiting to see if he was going to reply to Milo or if she should.

  He took the lead. “It’s okay, Milo. We’re over it, aren’t we, Dixie?”

  “Over what?” asked Andrea. “Twinkle, stop that, it’s not nice.” Twinkle was checking out Starbright’s nether end.

  “Nothing,” Kyle said.

  “I’m glad there’s no hard feelings. Let’s shake on it.” Milo held out his hand.

  “First time I ever saw two men shake hands over nothing,” Andrea said disdainfully.

  “It wasn’t exactly nothing,” Dixie explained. “But it’s nothing right now.”

  The dogs had aligned themselves face-to-face, and Starbright began to lick Twinkle’s muzzle. “Will you look at that,” marveled Andrea. “They’re playing kissy face.”

  Kyle would bet that Starbright’s affection owed less to true love than to the flavor of hamburger that no doubt lingered around Twinkle’s mouth. He figured the less said about anything the better, wishing everyone would leave so he could enjoy some much-needed alone time with Dixie.

  “I don’t believe I got your name,” Andrea said to Milo. She seemed to be regarding him favorably, and he brightened under her scrutiny.

  “Andrea Ludovici, this is Milo, uh,” Kyle said, forgetting Milo’s last name.

  “Milo Dingle,” Milo said, taking in Andrea’s low ruffled neckline and the shapeliness of her legs as revealed by her short skirt. “How do you do?”

  Kyle almost laughed. If Dixie had married Milo, she would have been Dixie Dingle. Unless she was one of those modern women who would insist on keeping her birth name, which could be the case.

  “I’ve had better days,” Andrea said to Milo. Her eyes were by this time only slightly reddened from crying. She had moved closer to him and was twiddling with a strand of her hair, a habit that used to drive Kyle nuts.

  “What do you say we take the dogs for a walk and you can tell me about it,” Milo suggested.

  Dixie cocked her head in surprise at this unexpected move on Milo’s part, but Andrea wasted no time taking Milo up on his offer. “I’ll get Twinkle’s leash,” she said. She ran upstairs.

  “She’s not from around here, is she?” Milo asked while Andrea was out of the room.

  “No, she’s just visiting,” Kyle said.

  “She’s not—you’re not—” Milo cast a puzzled glance at the ceiling, above which they could hear Andrea rummaging in the guest room. “It’s okay for me to ask her out, right?”

  Thank you, God, Kyle thought. “Absolutely,” he said.

  When Andrea reappeared, she’d changed from her dress into jeans and a checked blouse, and she’d pushed her hair back and secured it with a banana clip. The casual hairdo was out of character for her, but it did change her image to younger and more hip. She no longer looked like a case study in uptight.

  “Shall we?” Andrea said to Milo, who seemed to have eyes only for her. Kyle had never seen a woman’s personality change so fast; one minute she was an aggrieved party, and now she was walking across the room with a new and enticing wiggle to her hips. Kyle suddenly began to suspect that all along, Andrea’s unpleasant personality traits might have been born of her determination to cement him into the relationship. He didn’t necessarily like what this said about him, but he wasn’t in the mood to contemplate it at the moment.

  Milo held the door for her, and Andrea said sweetly to Dixie and Kyle, “Don’t wait up for me.”

  It was five-thirty in the afternoon. “You’re going back to Ohio,” Kyle said.

  Andrea shook her head. “I’m hoping to avail myself of Dixie’s hospitality for a bit longer. I couldn’t get a flight back tonight.”

  “Wait a minute,” Kyle said, anger rising to the surface on a mere moment’s provocation.

  “Kyle,” Dixie said, a restraining hand on his arm.

  “She’s leaving,” Kyle retorted. Milo’s gaze flicked from one of them to the other in confusion.

  “Another night won’t make that much difference,” Dixie murmured in her most conciliatory fashion. Kyle was surprised, since Dixie obviously wanted Andrea gone as much as he did.

  “I’ll leave in the morning,” Andrea said chirpily. “First thing.”

  Kyle was silent, glowering; Dixie remained gracious. “Fine,” she said.

  “Milo? Ready?” Andrea favored him with her most winning smile, and Milo followed her out the door.

  Kyle eyed Dixie. “Are you out of your mind?”

  “No, but what’s one more night? When she was leaving the house anyway? I’m ready for together time, just the two of us.”

  Andrea and Milo were disappearing down the driveway, tromping through puddles that would surely ruin her pricey flats. Dixie opened the refrigerator door and took out the ham casserole. “I’ll make a salad and you can heat this in the micro,” she said.

  “That sounds good to me,” he replied. He slid his arms around her from the back and drew her close. His hands moved under her sweatshirt and circled her breasts. The nipples rose to his touch, and he thanked his lucky stars that she was so responsive.

  Dixie swiveled in his arms as his hands slid lower to cup her lush curves. She turned her face upward for a kiss.

  “And after dinner, what?” he said, barely able to talk. He was so into her it wasn’t even funny. He ate, drank and thought Dixie Lee Smith; she was the dream woman of all time. He’d tell her this right now, but she was talking. What she said next reminded him exactly why she held such an important place in his heart.

  “We can take the canoe out and paddle around the lake in the moonlight.�
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  “I had something far more interesting in mind.”

  “My sentiments exactly. I need to ask you something.”

  “Shoot.” He grinned down at her, feeling loopy.

  “Have you ever tried to make love in a canoe, Kyle?”

  “That’ll work,” he said, all but moaning with the pleasure of anticipation.

  It took them only twenty minutes to heat and eat dinner, both of them wondering why they even bothered.

  THEY HAD NO TROUBLE dropping the canoe down from its sling in the garage. They encountered no difficulties when launching it into the lake. Making love was a different story, however.

  Dixie dissolved in laughter a few times while Kyle was trying to remove her clothes. Once he managed to tip the canoe so far to the right that they almost capsized. When they finally achieved their goal, no lovemaking could have been more beautiful. The stars above reflected in the shimmery surface of the lake, the lights from the house beamed a mellow glow over the dock and beyond, the singsong of crickets resounded from the reeds along the shore. Afterward, they lay quietly in the canoe for a long time, murmuring so their voices wouldn’t carry back to the house in case Milo and Andrea had returned.

  There was no sign of them when they tethered the canoe at the end of the dock. Milo’s manly truck was still parked in the driveway, but the rental car was gone. Twinkle was nowhere in sight when Dixie and Kyle let themselves into the house and hurried upstairs to Dixie’s bedroom. They cuddled in Dixie’s double bed, falling asleep almost right away.

  During the night Dixie kept her ears tuned for Andrea, but she never heard her. She was curious as to what could have happened to those two, but she didn’t fear foul play. As she well knew, Milo would let no harm come to any woman under his protection. Maybe they’d opted for a wild night out in Florence. They could have started drinking there and decided not to drive home. Or maybe—