When they got there, her mom went on into the house, but Audrey held Tess back for a moment. She stooped down to be at eye level with her. “I’m sorry Grandma got upset, punkin, but you handled it really well. I’m proud of you.” She pulled her into a long, tight hug.
“Can we still go see the puppies?” Tess whispered.
“No, we can’t. Not tonight.” She leaned away to make eye contact. “I’m sorry. I’ll text Mr. Dublin and let him know we won’t be there after all.” Tess nodded glumly. “But we’ll stop by tomorrow after school, and we’ll go every night after supper when we can,” she promised and Tess answered with a resigned sigh.
“Can I play ‘Mario’?”
“Thirty minutes. Then it’ll be time to get ready for bed.”
Tess took off at a gallop through the door and up the stairs.
When Audrey got in the door, she found her mom standing by the sofa table in front of the living room window, looking at the pictures of Win. Her expression was sad but calm as she reached out a finger and traced her daughter’s features in one of the photos. “Callie’s dead,” she said softly.
Audrey walked slowly over to stand beside her. “Yes, she is.” The doctor said to tell the truth if the subject arose.
“You couldn’t say Calinda. You called her Win.” The voice was tender and raw.
“That’s right.” Audrey put her arm around her mother’s shoulder and hugged her as tears made silent tracks down her cheeks.
They stood in silence for a few minutes until her mom finally whispered, “I want to take my medicine now.”
* * *
MARK GLANCED AT the text.
Sorry we didn’t make it. Mom had an episode on the way down to your house. I’ll check on the dogs at least twice tomorrow while you’re at school.
Taking care of Helen had to come first. He swallowed away his disappointment and then chuckled as he looked around the apartment he’d spent the last two hours cleaning and getting ready to show off.
With any luck, it would keep for a couple of days.
He went to check on his new companions in the garage. As soon as he opened the door, Cher left her new bed and went to the door wanting out.
He let her out, stepping outside with her while she took care of her business and then came dutifully back.
He stooped down in front of her and scratched behind her ears. “I would’ve taken you in, with or without Audrey’s help. You know that, right?” Cher closed her eyes and sighed contentedly. “And even after we’ve found the puppies new homes, you’ll always have a home right here.” She gave his hand a grateful lick. Then, ears pricking up, she followed the sound of the soft whine back inside, where she nudged the distraught offspring to let him know Mama was near. He quieted down, and she took the moment of silence to sniff her way around the garage, exploring the new surroundings.
Satisfied her stomach could handle some more food, Mark poured a cupful of dry food into the bowl and set it down beside the water. She came to it immediately and wolfed it down but didn’t beg for more. Instead, she went back to the plush bed and curled up with her babies snuggled beside her.
Mark took a picture of the group with his phone and sent it in a text message to Audrey.
Immediately, she answered back with a smiley face.
The first smile he’d gotten from her in a very, very long time.
TREY CAUGHT HIS reflection in the side-view mirror and grinned. It still gave him a little bit of a shock to see the face covered in all the hair. He’d never grown a beard, but he liked it. Along with the sunglasses and the hair that brushed his shoulders, he was a different person from who he’d always been. It was a nice feeling—the real Trey tucked into a safe place, hidden from the world.
He was much more tan now, too, since he’d been fishing for most every meal the past three weeks as he meandered his way across West Virginia and Kentucky. He’d reached the Kentucky Lake area at the western end of the state. Benton, the sign at the edge of town had read.
He leaned his face back to catch the warm morning sun as the gas continued to pump. A car pulled into the next lane over, but he didn’t pay much attention until the squeal of an excited female jostled him.
“Audrey!” The young woman who’d been getting in the black sedan parked at the curb rushed toward the newcomer.
Trey glanced in the direction of the responding laugh, and suddenly his vision was filled with red tresses, flaming in the morning sunshine. His erection sprang to life at the memory of his almost-one-time girlfriend.
Yeah, she reminds me of Kaitlyn, too, Daddy whispered. Her name’s Audrey, though.
The two women hugged, bouncing happily back and forth, and the red strands swayed softly, mesmerizing him like a hypnotist’s watch.
“You’ve straightened your hair. I love it!” The shorter woman smoothed her palm along the ends appreciatively, and Trey’s hand itched to do the same—to wind them up into his hands, to get that kiss she always promised but never gave.
You mean, you never took. Just having a beard doesn’t make you a man.
“I’ve been getting blow-outs.” The redhead turned her head toward him for just a fraction of a second before flipping it back around.
“Well, it’s beautiful.”
Trey agreed, revisiting the glimpse of face he’d been granted when she turned toward him.
“Thanks.” The redhead’s voice was low and silky, like her hair.
“I hear you and your husband divorced, and your dad died. I’m so sorry. And you’re back here, taking care of your mom?” The shorter woman’s head tilted in sympathy.
Audrey sighed. “Yeah, back in good ol’ Taylor’s Grove.”
She’s divorced. Grieving. Lonely, I’ll bet. Lives in Taylor’s Grove. Must be close around here.
“And how’s your mom doing?”
A shrug caused the red hair to shimmer under the slight movement. “Not great. Sometimes better than others. We just take it a day at a time.”
“Well, she’s blessed to have you. Alzheimer’s is a horrible disease. Such a damn horrible disease.”
Trey’s pump stopped and he replaced the nozzle. The women were still talking.
Don’t walk away from her yet. Find out all you can. Might come in handy.
Trey sloshed the squeegee from the bucket of gray water and swiped it across his windshield.
Audrey turned long enough to insert her credit card to start her pump. She didn’t glance his way. But he got a good, long look at her creamy complexion and eyes with long black fringes of lashes.
See the way she’s ignoring you? Being coy. Means she likes you.
The hard-on was agonizing now. He’d have to go to the restroom, but not until she left. He checked the oil level in his truck and still they talked.
Her daughter’s name is Tess, and she’s in the first grade. Did you notice how the mention of her teacher’s name—Mark Dublin—brought a shocked gasp from the