1105 Yakima Street - Debbie Macomber [43]
Beau was already proving to be a nuisance. “He’ll probably interrupt our meal,” she complained. “And you know darned well that he’ll be awake at all hours of the night. How many years has it been since you’ve had to deal with a puppy?”
Cliff smiled down at Beau, completely entranced. Her husband was an easy victim to the puppy, but not Grace. She fully intended to keep her distance, emotionally if not physically.
Cliff took Beau outside and returned just as she was mashing the potatoes. He looked in her direction and shook his head.
“No success?” she asked.
“None.”
“He’s not too bright, is he?”
“Grace,” her husband chastised. “He hasn’t had a chance to learn what it means to go outside.”
She knew that, but was unwilling to admit how critical she was being. She could see how attached Cliff was getting, and the puppy hadn’t even been with them an hour.
“Listen, Cliff, we will not be keeping this animal, understand?”
He glanced up from where he lay sprawled on the floor, playing with the puppy, and grinned. “Whatever you say.”
“I’m not joking, Cliff. I don’t want another dog.”
“Whatever you want.”
Grace narrowed her eyes as she set their dinner on the kitchen table. “Promise?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die.”
“Cliff,” she groaned, “this is no joking matter. You wait and see, he’ll interfere with dinner. It’s already begun.”
Sure enough, in the middle of dinner, the timer went off.
“What’s that for?” she asked, startled.
“Beau. I’m giving him a second chance.” Taking his wineglass, Cliff headed outside with the puppy, who’d been curled up on an old towel near the stove.
Grace reached for her own glass and raised it to her lips.
“It’s only for six weeks,” Cliff reminded her as he opened the door off the kitchen.
Grace had a feeling that these would be the longest six weeks of her life.
Thirteen
Hurrying out of the courthouse, Olivia frowned as she looked at her watch. She’d told her brother she’d meet him at the gallery at four, but a custody hearing had run late. Will had already left one message on her cell phone, although she hadn’t taken the time to listen to it.
Thankfully the courthouse was just a few short blocks from the Harbor Street Gallery. It was a crisp October day, so Olivia decided to walk. The trek was downhill, which was something else to be grateful for. And she loved the beauty of the brilliant autumn leaves, which were falling fast and would all be gone in another week.
Olivia walked steadily but she was out of practice and out of breath. She’d be seeing Grace later for their weekly Wednesday-night aerobics class. She was slowly regaining her strength; maybe she’d even catch up to Grace in skill and endurance soon.
Thinking about her friend, Olivia couldn’t contain a smile. Grace and Cliff were caring for that puppy of Beth’s. Beau had instantly won over Cliff. Not so Grace, who stubbornly refused to grow attached to him. Olivia wondered just how long Grace would be able to hold out. Her friend had loved Buttercup and she’d love Beau, too, if she’d give him a chance. Still, Grace insisted that in less than six weeks, she’d hand Beau over to Beth Morehouse without a second’s hesitation. No matter what, she kept saying, that dog was going back. If Olivia was a betting woman, she’d place her whole retirement income on Grace keeping that puppy.
She arrived at the gallery and entered, accompanied by a blast of wind off the cove. The door banged behind her, rattling the windows.
Will laughed. “That was quite an entrance,” he teased as he came toward her. Leaning forward, he kissed her cheek.
“Sorry I’m late.”
“Actually, it worked out fine. Miranda,” he said, turning to his assistant, “would you take over for me?”
The other woman nodded and smiled at Olivia.
“Shall we go to my office?” Will asked.
“Please.”
He followed her inside, closed the door, then took a seat on one of his visitor chairs. Olivia took the other one, perching on the edge with her hands in her lap.
“I understand the repairs on Mom’s house are just about finished,” Will said, introducing the topic she’d