Chapter 40Rafe
Chapter 40
Rafe
Tuesday * 10:32 a.m.
Me
Just got in. Easy drive, no snow. Straight to roastery to meet owners. Sending house address later. Princess pissed at me. Set alarm? Eat breakfast?
Tuesday * 11:47 a.m.
Rose
Thanks for letting me know. Pirate pining. Yes. No.
Dammit, babe. Not the only one.
Wednesday * 6:20 a.m.
Me
Bean Love Café & Roastery: 308 W. Overland Rd, Boise, ID 83709. House (housesitting for owners): 50122 Hill Rd, Boise, ID 83703. Eat or you’ll get sick.
Wednesday * 7:04 a.m.
Rose
Ate pint PB Choc Chip last night—does that count? IDK, felt sick after.
Rose
Seriously, thx for providing ALL the food. Even healthy bits. Will eat better.
Rose
I promise.
Wednesday * 7:12 a.m.
Me
Hold you to yr word, Rose. Got to go check my roast. Later?
Wednesday * 7:14 a.m.
Rose
Bye for now, Rafe. A kiss for Princess.
Bye, babe…for now.
“Hold your fucking horses, Princess.” I had her leash and a bag of groceries in one hand and was digging for my keys with the other. She was throwing herself against the door.
Baby girl was hungry for her dinner. My fault—I’d forgotten to take her kibble and treats with me this morning in the rush. Yeah, the café had a few dog biscuits for customers, and I’d snared a couple to tide her over.
She’d declined, thank you very much. They were apparently not up to her royal standards—or the Chocolate Lab standards, anyway.
Finally, I got the door unlocked and made it through the laundry room into the kitchen. Dropping the groceries on the counter, I unleashed Princess and grabbed her food dish.
“There you go, baby girl.” Princess hoovered her meal in fifteen seconds flat and settled back on her haunches for her after-dinner mint, er, treat. Not too spoiled.
She headed out of the kitchen, nose to the ground, sniffing like crazy. She performed the same routine as the last two nights, searching all over this big-ass house—this floor, upstairs and basement—for Pirate…and Rose.
I’d tried telling her it was useless—no need to lie and say they lived here. She hadn’t believed me and kept going. So tonight, I let her be and unpacked my groceries. Madge and Rocky had left me a few staples, but I wanted to bring in my own easy-to-fix go-tos—eggs, potatoes, bacon, bread, sandwich meat, shit like that.
After a quick breakfast for dinner ( what did Rose eat tonight? ), I let Princess out in the backyard. Good thing it was fenced because Hill Road was way too fucking busy for any walk, especially at night, and there were no nearby streets. This weekend in daylight hours, I’d scout out a park or a neighborhood or somewhere for her walks.
Standing on the patio, I opened my phone. It’d been pinging off and on for the past few hours. The first ping , I’d checked right away to see if it was Rose. Nope. Rocky had sent one last heads-up on the quirkiness of their roaster. After that, I’d restrained myself and let the pings go for a while. Who’d be texting me anyway?
Ah. Pete had left me a voicemail. And Mateo and Finn had texted me earlier. Still no Rose. Why would she, you shithead, after the way you insulted her?
Thursday * 4:34 p.m.
Mateo
Hey, manito, R said you got there ok. Mama worried becuz of drinking & no sleep—saw me come in late from the pub. Know you feel you made the right D. None of my biz, but your woman has sad eyes.
Thursday * 6:32 p.m.
Me
Yeah, shitty time all around. But right D. Tango Mike for that nite, pass on to J-L too. Will you & your mamma keep an eye on R? Worried abt eating. Will be back in touch.
Thursday * 5:14 p.m.
Finn
WTF? Mom txted ur not coming back. Said she was okish. Don’t believe her. Shook.
Needed an interpreter to keep up with this kid.
Thursday * 5:19 p.m.
Finn
BTW Pics from Turkey Dog Jog attached. FYI Posted on CLC Web, Insta & FB.
I had forgotten all about Katt’s photo tent. First pic, Princess and me—her showing off her loopy grin, me sporting her feathered pink tiara and a frown. Next pic, Pirate and Finn—both smiling, teeth on full display, the pirate tricorn-and-parrot headband now shifted to Finn’s head. Last one, Rose standing between Finn and me—the dogs sitting in front of us, both hats on Rose’s head now, sticking out at side angles, our arms around her, all laughing at the camera.
Well, almost all. I was looking down at Rose.
Thursday * 6:48 p.m.
Me
Thx for the pics. Thx for posting them for all to see. Not.
Me
Your mamma is the best. I’m not. Better that she find a better man.
Me
Glad to have met you. You’re lucky to have each other. Watch out for your mamma.
“Hello? Hello? Rafe, is that you?” Pete shouted. It was phone calls for Pete since the idea of texting was foreign to him. That being said, his grandkids might succeed in getting him on board.
“Yeah, Pete, it’s me. Is this an okay time to talk? Not interrupting your dinner?”
“Nope, this is fine,” he assured me. “Rose said you got there safely, didn’t run into any snow or ice.”
I took a big breath, closing my eyes for a moment. It sounded like Rose had no problem telling people I’d taken off in the middle of the night. I wondered if she’d shared anything else.
“Sorry I didn’t call you when I got here. Kinda hit the ground running.”
“No worries.” He paused. “How’re you doing, son?”
What the fuck could I say? That I was lonesome for Rose, and it’d only been—what, three days? That I missed her hot touch, but I missed her nonstop sassing more? That I was crazy with worry that she was safe alone in that big house?
That I was barely stopping myself from jumping in my pickup and storming back to Portland?
I could be honest with Pete though. He wouldn’t judge me.
“I’m fucked up,” I grunted. “But at least I didn’t fuck up by caving and saying I’d be back.”
He sighed, but didn’t say anything.
Time to move on. “Appreciate you pitching in to help Rose while she’s searching for a new roaster. Especially with the holidays, the grocery store, the hospital kiosk and all.”
“Anything for our girl,” Pete pledged. “Mike’s been helping too—just can’t do much with his leg taking so long to heal. His doc told him he’ll have to quit after the first of the year.”
“That’s cutting it pretty close to the launch,” I said before I could catch myself.
“I’m sure we’ll find somebody by then. But no worries,” he added. “Rose has asked me to train her in coffee roasting so she can take over the job. That woman will do anything to save the Chocolate Lab.”
Shit, now I know what she meant. Why hadn’t she told me she was that close to the line?
“So, sure thing, I’ll put some feelers out for your next gigs after Boise,” Pete offered, the sly dog. “It’s the busy time so we may not hear until after the holidays. But somebody will need you somewhere.”
I rubbed that achy spot in the middle of my chest, hard. Hoping to make it go away.
We said our goodbyes , and I whistled for Princess to come inside.
Thursday * 9:52 p.m.
Me
Goodnight, Rose. Sleep tight.