Boomer’s ears perked as the lid on the metal can shut.
“Listen, big boy, this paper obsession has to stop. You might get sick. And don’t ever do this at Grandma’s house. I promise, it’ll be your last visit there.”
His tail wagged and he panted, a sure sign of agreement.
She stroked the dog’s furry neck, thinking about her mother’s obsession with the family’s outward appearances. The day her mother learned Veronica’s father had left her for his secretary, she and her siblings were told not to discuss the matter with outsiders. Ever. Veronica believed her mother’s attitude unnecessary, yet to this day still abided by Mom’s mantra to keep things private.
Disgust for her own silence over what happened with Gary Tishman back in college took hold, along with the sad realization she’d turned into her mother. Northbridge gossip had the momentum of a ball rolling down a steep hill, though, and she still didn’t want anybody knowing what happened to her back then.
Veronica changed out of her work clothes and slipped on shorts with a striped tank top. Ten minutes later, she was back inside the car and cruising along Lake Shore Drive, Wednesday night dinner at her sister’s place something she rarely missed. Boomer’s head hogged the space between the VW Passat’s bucket seats, making the rearview mirror useless for navigation. He eyed the two KitKat bars on the front passenger seat.
“Those aren’t for you, Boom-boom.”
He sniffed near her ear and licked her cheek, making her laugh and forget about any small flaws he possessed.
She followed the road and enjoyed a gentle lake breeze drifting through the open window, lifting the soft curls stuck to the back of her neck. For the first time today, she relaxed. Playing phone tag with Gail, who hadn’t come to the luncheon, had made her jump each time she received an incoming call at the library. Maybe she really didn’t want to know why Gary ended up marrying their old college friend. Didn’t Carin see the dark side he possessed?
She forced Gary from her head and, instead, concentrated on how happy she’d been to finally get an e-mail from Ry this morning. For the past six months, they’d talked nearly every day. Hard as she tried, she couldn’t find a single thing wrong with the guy. Well, there might be one little thing; she wouldn’t recognize him if she walked right into him.
Theirs was a modern day pen pal relationship, all via the Internet. Ry’s e-mails dominated her thoughts like a teenage crush. Not quite online dating—or really even a relationship—the simpatico flow of their conversations always lifted her spirits and allowed her to converse with an openness and ease she hadn’t had with a man in far too long.
The winding road narrowed at a bend. She slowed the car and turned up a hill near a nineteenth century schoolhouse, a town landmark. A few minutes later, she pulled into the subdivision where her sister lived and parked on the street in front of Emily’s raised ranch.
The new siding job, started five weeks ago, was finally complete and left a clean white exterior, a vast improvement over peeling gray shingles. Boomer bolted from the car and beelined for the open garage. She followed and pushed open the inside door, ambushed by a delicious garlicky scent. The dog went into the family room, where the television set blasted louder than necessary.
“Guess who?” Veronica yelled over the noise, while Boomer jumped on the sofa between her nieces, who sprawled all over the brown sectional sofa, their legs overlapping in the center.
“Boom-boom!” the girls cried.
“Gee, thanks. What about me?”
Cassidy giggled as Boomer’s pink tongue lapped her cheek. She pushed him away. “Hi, Aunt Ronnie.”
At Cassidy’s thirteenth birthday last month, Veronica had noted some real signs of maturity in the eighth grader. Girlish features had disappeared, replaced by subtle curves and the outline of a chest. Her maturing features also showed how she bore a striking resemblance to Veronica, both with the same pert nose and dark eyes. They could pass for mother and daughter, a fact people loved to point out, often making Veronica’s sister silently scowl.
Eleven-year-old Missy hugged Boomer, her strawberry-blond flyaway hair a real contrast against the dog’s dark fur. She smiled, showcasing new turquoise colored rubber bands on her braces. “Did you bring us anything?”
“Am I that predictable?” Veronica dangled the candy bars over their heads, and their eyes widened, arms stretched to grab the candy. “Promise you won’t eat these until after dinner?”
“Thank you! I swear.” Cassidy nodded.
Veronica raised a brow at the younger girl. “You either. Okay?”
“I promise and thank you.”
“I’ve got an idea.” Veronica walked over to a bookshelf and put the candy on top. “I’m putting these up high, so Boomer can’t get them. Okeydokey?”
They both nodded but seemed more interested in Boomer’s attempt to wedge a decent space for himself on the sofa between them.
Veronica went upstairs to the kitchen. The ceiling fan spun on high and made a clicking sound. A new wooden sign hanging above the sink read, “Happiness is Homemade.” One of many little reminders that Emily worked four days a week at Homestead House, a downtown retailer specializing in décor for those who loved the country ambiance.
“More candy?” Emily stood at the counter near the sink, dumping a bag of pre-cut lettuce into a bowl. She glanced over her shoulder.
“Come on. Doesn’t an aunt have a right to share her love of chocolate with her nieces? It’s like grandparent privileges.”
“Even Mom knows better than to bring them candy, and she has real grandmother privileges.” Emily went to the trashcan and tossed out the plastic bag. “Oh, Mom texted me. They arrived in Paris. And the month-long tour begins.”
“Glad they got there safe.” Veronica stole a cherry tomato from the salad. “She struck gold when she married Harry. He’ll do anything for her. Can I help?”
“Table’s been set, pasta is cooking…” Emily looked around the counter while brushing aside the longish bangs of her short haircut. “You could pour us some wine.” She tipped her head to an opened bottle and two glasses, then returned to the cutting board and started to slice a cucumber. “How was your luncheon yesterday?”
“The keynote speaker was great and the food was good.” Veronica poured the wine. “My morning was like one big bad omen, though. My hot water heater went, and Boomer ruined the blouse I got on our shopping trip a few weeks ago.”
She’d purposely left out the part about Gary’s return. Her sister didn’t know about Gary. Nobody did. All night long, Veronica had fought sleep, wishing there were one person who knew her secret about him, about why she’d turned down the job in D.C., and about why she’d raced back to Northbridge after getting her graduate degree.
“Oh, and when I stopped at RGI to drop something off to Duncan, the elevator broke and I was trapped for a few minutes.”
Emily stopped cutting and adjusted the strap of her sundress. “I always worry I’ll get stuck just when I need to pee. Did that happen to you?”
“No. Probably the only blessing of the moment.” The hopeful look on the man’s face when he’d said good-bye stirred the kind of emotion Veronica usually tried to block, and yet she couldn’t quite shake his image. “I wasn’t alone, either. Some guy got stuck with me. He was nice enough to point out the dried toothpaste on my dress. Right on my chest. I’ve got to stop doing other things while I brush my teeth.”
Emily lifted her brows. “You sure he was looking at the toothpaste?”
“No, and I wasn’t about to ask.” She handed Emily a wine