Chapter 3
“I t’s not a secret.”
“No, honey, of course not,” my mother answered.
“You don’t have to keep secrets, not ever. Never,” she emphasized.
“I was just thinking…you don’t have to lead with it, either.”
Well, I didn’t go around and announce to people that I was a drunk first thing off.
“I really don’t do that,” I told her.
“But he deserved to know, just like I would want to know it about him.”
But when I’d thought about it later, I wasn’t exactly sure why I’d opened my mouth and allowed all that information to pour out to Caleb.
I was supposed to be honest about my addictions—reckoning with how I’d behaved was part of recovery.
But there’d been no need to tell a near-stranger practically the worst thing about me within twenty-four hours of meeting him.
My mama also pointed that out.
“Would you actually have been angry if your positions were reversed, and you found out about his history on your third date instead of your first?”
“It wasn’t a date—my Lord!” I dropped my phone as Sir surged forward.
“No! Stop it,” I ordered.
“You’ll never catch that squirrel!”
Finally, he gave up the chase.
I’d had his leash, the new one I’d bought at the pet store, wrapped around my hand and I unwound it to shake off the damage.
We found my phone and I told my mom that I was still there, and I was fine.
“And that wasn’t a date,” I said, finishing my earlier thought.
“Caleb had come by to check on Sir.”
I heard her smothered chuckle.
The whole situation had become somewhat of a joke in the family on the previous Sunday at church.
The story had spread from relative to relative of how I had mistakenly named my dog and how I had adopted him in the first place, and how Caleb Woodson had helped me evict him from my car.
But I hadn’t told any of them exactly how we had met up later, when Caleb had come over.
I imagined that their reactions to that information would have been exactly like mine, if any of my female cousins had told me the same story:
Aria / Cassidy / Aubree / Amory / Sage / Dasia / etc .
: A man I met only once and who I don’t know from Adam showed up at my house, because I told him my name by mistake and he’d hunted up my address.
He insists that he’s not a murderer or worse.
Me : My Lord! Run away as fast as you can, faster than Sir when he sees a squirrel!
It wasn’t something that lent itself to explanations, but I had felt that Caleb was a very normal person, and I maintained that opinion.
It had been a week since that had occurred, and nothing else had gone on, anyway.
No one had broken in and no one had even dropped by to say hello and check on the dog again.
A few things not Caleb-related had occurred.
Sir had run away and I’d driven around for hours looking for him, before I’d finally come upon him frolicking in a park miles from our home.
I’d been crying and fully carrying on by that point, and I’d been so relieved that I hadn’t even scolded him.
He’d been sleeping with me in the bed, taking up way more than his fair share, and he’d been making regular deposits in the front and back yards (which I’d gotten a lot better about cleaning up).
My next-door neighbor had seen me at least once while I was doing that, and he’d nodded but then had gone into his own house without mentioning the hundred-and-something pound dog that was scampering around next to me.
We’d been doing a lot of scampering.
To make sure that Sir got enough exercise, I’d been taking him for walks many times a day, like when we got up, during my lunch hour, after we got home from the office, then again after dinner.
He really did seem to need that much to settle down, and yesterday I’d ordered several new sports bras that looked sturdy enough to give me the support I needed if he suddenly took off running and brought me along with him.
That happened frequently and he wasn’t the best about listening when I used words like no, stop, halt, and please.
I had to hang up with my mom and get back to work since my lunch hour was over.
Marc, my boss, didn’t care much about when I started and stopped, but it wasn’t fair for me to take advantage of our family relationship.
He’d been great about me bringing Sir to our office and he’d been the one to tell me how much hilarity my dog’s name had caused at the after-church meal at his sister Michaela’s house.
I hadn’t been able to attend, myself.
I’d been afraid to leave Sir home alone for so long and it wouldn’t have been fun for him to be trapped in the car while I was at the service.
I also hadn’t felt comfortable about inviting him into Michaela’s with the wonderful buffet, since he’d shown himself to be very sneaky and greedy when food was left out.
Twice, he’d gotten my breakfast.
So I’d hurried back home after church and had found him asleep on my bed, but he’d also destroyed one of the couch pillows (and, I found later, peed on the garbage can.
Not in , unfortunately, but on ).
“Kayleigh?”
I hung Sir’s leash on the back of the door and wiped his paws so he wouldn’t muck up the office.
It was still muddy outside.
“Yeah?” I asked my cousin.
He was looking at his phone.
“Do you know a guy named Woodson? Is this the same person who everyone was talking about last Sunday?”
“My Lord! Were they? I only saw him twice!”
“So, you do know him?”
“Only slightly, because he helped me with Sir,” I reminded my cousin.
The dog leaned against my knee, soaking my jeans with the water stuck in his beard after taking a good drink from his bowl.
“And his people are from Signal Mountain. Aunt Paula knew his mother,” Marc remembered.
I’d suspected that someone in my family would have heard of Lara-Lee Woodson, Caleb’s mom.
Aunt Paula, who was actually a cousin to our grandfather, had heard the news of my tire and dog.
She had provided some background information before we found our seats in the pews.
According to her, the Woodsons had lived on Signal Mountain forever and owned a big place in the Old Town area, overlooking the Tennessee River below.
“What ever happened to Lara-Lee?” Aunt Paula had asked me.
“She was strange.” Then she had said, “Well, we’re all old now,” when told that strange Lara-Lee was dead.
“He texted me,” Marc said, but I had been lost in thought and didn’t understand.
“What?”
“Caleb Woodson said that he’s looking for a contractor and that you had recommended me.” He grinned.
“Thanks, KayKay.”
“Well, of course I’m going to recommend you!” I told him, and paused.
“What else did he write?”
“He wants to rebuild a barn on his property and he asked about my availability to come give an estimate. When am I available?”
We checked his schedule, which was also on the phone he held in his own hand, and determined that he had time the next morning.
“And that’s all there was about me,” I confirmed.
“He only wrote that I had recommended you?”
My cousin checked again.
“That’s it. Do you think that Taygen would like yellow roses? Like the song,” he said.
“Marc, are you bringing her flowers again?” I smiled, because it was so sweet—but it was also an expensive habit.
“You know what I bet she would like instead? If you went over to her house and rolled out her trash can. The truck comes tomorrow in her neighborhood.” I knew that because it was also my parents’ neighborhood, and I knew she would like the can brought out because my own mother was always glad when my daddy did it.
“I could fix her toilet, too, the one that keeps running,” he said, warming to the idea of showing his affection through household chores.
I strongly encouraged this line of thinking.
They would need to save up for their wedding, because there were a million and two McCourts and everyone would expect an invitation.
And the fellowship hall seemed to eat up flowers, no matter how many were there to decorate it.
I was sure that Taygen would not use yellow roses, no matter about the song.
The next day, Sir and I were at our best when we went to work.
“Damn!” Marc said as I shook the rain off my coat and hung it on a hook.
“What made you get so dressed up? You going out later? I thought you said that you weren’t dong anything tonight.”
“I’m not,” I told him.
“I just felt like wearing something different. I also thought that it would be good if Sir and I went with you to your appointment this morning.” The dog huffed his agreement.
“What appointment? Is it for that place in Dunlap that has all the problems with the roof trusses?”
“Marc McCourt! Look at your calendar for once,” I told him.
“You’re going to Caleb Woodson’s house to see about fixing his barn.”
“Oh, right.” He eyed me and grinned.
“Do not tell anyone that I wore a dress today. No one,” I warned.
“I thought you ordered me not to keep things from Taygen.”
“You can tell her, as long as she doesn’t say anything about it to your mama. I just felt like putting on something other than jeans!” I defended myself.
“It doesn’t have anything to do with…anything.”
“Or anyone,” my cousin said.
I threw a pencil at him, which made Sir bark.
We did accompany Marc to the Woodson property, which was far out in the country.
Sir was ok on the ride since he seemed to like trucks, but he did his thing of lying all over me and by the time we arrived, my pretty pink dress wasn’t in the best shape any longer.
More like now, it was crumpled up and covered with hair and some drool, as was my coat (which I had buttoned closed to save the dress, but it had been too late).
I did check my hair and face quickly in the mirror as we turned at the gate, and my cousin grinned at me again.
“You know, it doesn’t hurt anyone to look their best on a job interview. That’s what this is, Marc,” I advised.
“Every time you go and meet with a potential client, they’re sizing you up just like any employer would.”
“Yes, ma’am. Do you think he’ll like my shirt? I chose it special.”
I only rolled my eyes as we finally pulled to a stop in front of a large farmhouse.
It had seen better days, and this was definitely something that Marc would be able to help with—he had really good ideas.
“If the barn goes well…” I said, and he looked over at me and nodded.
This could have been a big deal for the business.
As the truck stopped, Caleb Woodson came out of that house and walked down the steps, and Sir went nuts.
He climbed onto my lap, putting the last nail into the coffin that had once been my dress and barking enough to make my ears ring.
I opened the door and he leaped out into the mist that had been falling this morning, splashing through a puddle on the driveway.
He ran right over to Caleb and threw himself forward.
“No, Sir,” I heard, and the dog immediately backed off.
“That’s a good boy. Sit. Good boy,” Caleb praised and petted him, and Sir’s little tail wagged wildly.
“I didn’t expect to see you today.”
Marc had a big, new truck, and the payment on that was one of the reasons that the business had to succeed (along with his wedding, his mortgage, and his rent on the office space).
Sir had flown out like a bird and my cousin wasn’t overly tall, but he also jumped down with ease.
It took me longer and I had to be extra careful, since my outfit included nice shoes.
“Kayleigh,” Caleb said.
He stood next to the open passenger door, where I was just beginning to make my descent.
“I didn’t know that you were coming today, either.”
“I try to meet new clients,” I said.
“We already know each other,” he pointed out.
“You can put your hand on my shoulder.”
I did, and he mostly lifted me to the driveway, which was mostly mud.
We both looked at my shoes.
“You could wait in the house,” he suggested, sounding doubtful.
“No, I would like to see the scope of work,” I answered, which made it sound as if I really did have a purpose here besides seeing him again.
I was here for Sir, since it was good for the dog to visit a friend and maybe get a chance to run around the property that Caleb had mentioned.
My pet’s welfare was at the forefront of my mind.
“You don’t have boots?” Caleb asked.
“I never worry about mud,” I said grandly.
I never came out to jobsites with Marc, either, but here we were and I could make the best of it.
“Uh, ok,” he said, even more doubtful.
He left me at the side of the truck to go talk to my cousin.
Then I trailed behind them as they discussed the project, restoring a barn that wasn’t really so old.
Caleb’s mom had built it but had let it fall into disrepair and he was hoping that parts of it could be salvaged, or maybe the whole thing.
Marc walked around and I was proud to see how professionally and competently he inspected the siding, the foundation, the doors, and everything else about the building.
There was plenty for Sir to sniff and examine, his favorite activity, and the two of us walked further into the dim interior while they talked.
Then, suddenly, the dog picked up his head and made a sound I’d never heard from him before: a low-pitched, menacing growl.
It rose out of his big chest as he froze, his body motionless and rigid, and he watched something in the shadows of what might have been an old animal pen.
“Sir, come here!” I said and for once, he listened.
He backed up and stood in front of me, still making that deep hum and still alert.
“Kayleigh?”
I walked quickly toward Marc’s voice, and Sir trotted along, totally relaxed.
“What got into you?” I asked him.
I had been wishing that he could communicate a little better, since I talked to him a lot and was interested in what he might have replied.
As per usual, he had nothing to say now, but his tail was back to wagging as we joined Caleb and my cousin.
He stayed close to me, though, and his fluffy beard brushed against my leg.
“We’re going to take a look at the house while we’re here,” Marc said.
“That might be a project down the road.” He met my eyes and his own widened with significance.
This type of project would be a wonderful, amazing thing for Coops Creek Construction, much larger than the jobs that my cousin usually got hired for.
It was big enough that I started to get nervous, actually, because Marc didn’t have much of a regular crew just yet.
We did, however, have an amazing resource: a million and two McCourts.
Between the various members of our family, most construction trades were represented, and they were all willing to give him a hand when he needed one (just as he would have—and had—stepped up for them).
They waited for me to lead the way, which I did carefully since the puddles weren’t limited to the exterior.
This barn was plenty wet due to some obvious issues with the roof, walls, and maybe something coming up from the ground…
I didn’t want to think about septic.
And now it was really raining outside, not just the mist from earlier.
But I was bound and determined to look around the house, so I said that no, of course I wasn’t bothered by the Noah’s ark amount of water on the ground.
I held my chest and ran toward the porch, accompanied by Sir, and he thought it was a great game.
He splashed through puddles and then, as we reached the front steps, he jumped on me for even more fun.
I went right down.
“Hell!” I heard Caleb say, and he helped me out of the puddle I’d landed in.
“Did he hurt you?”
“Not much,” I said.
“Kayleigh’s tough. Remember when I hit you with the baseball bat?” Marc reminisced.
“By mistake,” he told Caleb, who’d turned to stare at him.
“She walked in the way of my backswing.”
“I’m ok,” I announced, and tried to brush myself off.
I was soaked, though, and the mud on my front was going nowhere.
“Come on up on the porch,” Caleb told us, and we all followed.
He spoke very sternly to Sir, who seemed ashamed, and the dog stood quietly for a wipe-down with a towel that Caleb brought out.
He’d handed one to me, too, but there wasn’t much I could do.
At least I stopped the dripping so that I wouldn’t make a mess on his floors.
“You having problems with the heat?” Marc asked when the three of us went inside.
“There’s no heat,” Caleb said.
“My mother had wood fires. I’d like to add a furnace and air conditioning.”
“Yes, that would be great,” I chimed in, because if it was a Noah situation outside, it was like the storehouses of snow in here.
Being drenched, I’d been looking forward to warming up, but the air felt practically icy.
There was no fire in any of the many hearths we passed, which were full of soot instead of crackling logs.
Each room we toured showed more dust, darkness, and dilapidation, the three Ds of neglected houses.
I had never paid much attention to décor stuff before, but I had started when I took the job with Marc.
I’d been looking up topics about architecture and decorating—doing some homework (which was also new to me).
I saw that this place was obviously old, with beautiful doors and a pretty staircase.
But it also weirdly seemed like a time capsule from the nineteen eighties, like my nana’s former house.
For example, the kitchen had a dropped ceiling, tile countertops and matching backsplash, and honey oak cabinets.
“My mother remodeled a few things when she first moved here,” Caleb explained as we toured that room.
“She never touched anything again after that.” He pointed at the microwave, which was close to the same size as my car.
“That doesn’t work, and neither does the oven and three of the four burners on the stove.”
The only room that seemed acceptable to me was the one he was using as his office, which had a nice desk and other normal furniture, as well as a space heater.
I went immediately to that and stretched out my hands.
“Oh, that’s nice,” I sighed.
“I’ll get you something to put on when we go upstairs,” he told me.
We did troop there next and found six bedrooms that were dusty, dirty, et cetera.
This was a big house meant for a big farm family, one that had apparently not minded the cold because it was freezing up there, too.
I shivered through the tour, which included the bathrooms with original tile that was very pretty but also pretty stained, and the room that Caleb said he was using for himself.
“This was mine when I was a kid,” he mentioned.
It looked that way. There was only a twin bed, and Marc laughed when he saw that.
“I might be able to fit ok, but you?” he asked.
Caleb was at least a couple of inches taller, well above the six-foot mark.
There was also a beat-up skateboard in the corner and some papers piled on the desk, but the eyecatcher in the room was a bookshelf that covered one whole wall and was stuffed with paperbacks and hardcovers.
I looked at the titles while Caleb went into the closet and came out with a sweatshirt, which he handed to me.
“Thank you,” I said, truly grateful.
I took off my coat and his eyes widened.
“That’s…”
“I know,” Marc agreed.
“I thought she was going clubbing instead of coming here.”
I turned to glare at him and he looked as ashamed as Sir had after knocking me down.
That was not the appropriate way to talk in front of a client, but probably my dress hadn’t been the appropriate thing to wear, either.
It was short enough that Caleb’s sweatshirt went past the hem, but that was also due to the size of the sweatshirt.
It could have been a fairly cute dress by itself, if I’d had a belt to throw on and maybe some hoop earrings.
In our trips to pageants in the minivan, I’d learned a lot about accessorizing.
“Good bones,” my cousin commented as we went back downstairs.
“This is a beautiful old place. It could be a great place to live.”
“It could be,” Caleb said.
It had sounded more like a question than agreement.
“Would you like Marc to look around more and make a list of ideas? It really would be nice to have an HVAC system,” I pointed out.
We waited in the office while my cousin went to take notes and pictures so he could prepare another estimate.
I hurried to the space heater again, so glad for its presence, and Caleb got a chair so that I could practically huddle against it.
“I don’t think you could work in here without this,” I noted.
I nudged Sir away so he wouldn’t get burned.
“I also carry it upstairs at night.” He stood next to his desk and moved around some papers.
The computer seemed very new and nice, which made it different from everything else in the house.
There was another bookshelf in here, too, not quite as big as the one upstairs.
“You must really like to read,” I remarked.
“Out here, there wasn’t much else to do. My mom didn’t believe in cell phones, TVs, or computers, so I did my chores, rode my skateboard, and read.”
“How did you do your schoolwork without a computer, though?”
“I was homeschooled,” he answered.
“Everything was pen and paper. My mother had very specific ideas about education.”
“Including that she wanted you to board for high school,” I noted.
“It seemed to bother you when I told you that before.” He sat in his desk chair and Sir leaned against his legs, resting his chin in Caleb’s lap to request scratches.
“It did,” I admitted.
“I guess it would have been a pain to get you into Chattanooga every day for school, but I think I would have done it. I know that my parents wouldn’t have let me go away so young.” Not that living at home had prevented me from misbehaving.
“They would have missed me a lot and I really would have missed them, too.”
“I was happy to go,” he said.
“I had read about kids my age, but I hadn’t ever been around them.”
“I thought that homeschooled kids had their own sports teams and did activities together.”
“Not me,” Caleb answered.
“My mother was busy.”
He’d said that before, too.
“How did she teach you, then?”
“When I was little, she sat with me sometimes. When I got bigger and more self-directed, she gave me work and expected me to complete it. I did.”
“If I didn’t have a teacher breathing down my neck, I didn’t do anything,” I admitted.
“That’s pretty amazing how you learned on your own.”
“It’s not a good way to learn. If I ever had kids, I would do things very differently.”
He’d sounded almost fierce when he’d said that.
“I’m sorry you didn’t like it, and I wouldn’t have, either. I guess it worked for you, though. I looked you up more and it seems like you’re very successful. How do you work, living out here?”
He pointed to his computer.
“I can do almost everything from this desk, and as you said, Chattanooga’s not too far if I have to fly somewhere. I’m busy, which doesn’t leave enough time to fix the barn. I don’t know how to do that, anyway,” he acknowledged.
Then he switched topics to asking about Marc and the construction business.
He had pretty pointed questions and I supposed that was a good idea.
After all, if you were going to write a big check to someone and put your faith in his ability to make safe buildings for you, shouldn’t you have investigated things?
“I’m glad you’re discussing all this,” I told him.
“I never did a lot of due diligence about anything in my life and it’s nice to see that others are more careful. You’re a lot less likely to get hurt.” I paused.
“Not that Marc McCourt will ever do anything to hurt you. If you hire him, you’ll never regret it.” Sir picked up his head to look at me and I smiled at him.
“I’m a fairly cautious person but you seem to be that way, too. You didn’t jump right into my truck like this guy did.” The dog got more ear scratches.
“But you did invite me over for lunch, even though I could have been—”
“I don’t want to hear ‘murderer or worse’ again,” I warned.
“I’m really trying to be more careful with my decisions. I spent a lot of years acting like such an idiot and that’s something I’m working on.”
“Uh, it’s a step?”
“Making amends,” I agreed.
“I had to look really hard at how my bad behavior affected everyone else, like my friends and family.”
“What did you do that was bad?”
“My Lord, what didn’t I do?” I shook my head.
“I don’t think I should tell you. My mama was just warning me against exactly this.”
“Honesty?”
“No…well, in a way,” I corrected myself.
“She advised me not to say too much, too soon.”
“Too soon for what?”
I looked over at him and shrugged.
“I mean, I saw how you looked at me after I told you that I was an addict. I get it, too. It’s like hanging out a banner that says, ‘I’m untrustworthy!’” I added jazz hands.
“Once people know, they get afraid that I’ll relapse. Last summer, I went to see Jack Calder perform. Do you know who he is? The country singer?” Caleb shook his head, no.
“That was the last time I went out. It was so nerve-racking because my cousin came and she watched me like I was under a microscope. I guess I would do the same thing if I were in their shoes. But I’m really, really working hard so I don’t let them down.”
I looked at him, realizing that I’d done it again.
Why had I gone on like this?
I should have listened to my mother.
“I guess this is what she was warning me about,” I remarked.
“The over-sharing. It’s not a smart thing to do with a potential client. I shouldn’t admit what a dummy I am.” I winced.
“Don’t hold this against Marc. He’s always been totally straight and he’s always done the right stuff.”
“Why does he have you working for him? Was it a favor?”
That stung a lot, although it might have been true.
Marc’s mama and mine were good friends.
“I was thinking that I took the job to help him, but you’re probably right,” I said.
“It was probably for my benefit instead of the other way around, but I didn’t realize it until just now. After I finished rehab the second time, I went through a few jobs. Leaving the loan office wasn’t my fault, because it closed. And the one before that was because my boss got a little too interested in me, and his wife didn’t like it at all. I had to quit. Please don’t mention that to Marc, because I don’t want him to tell anyone else in my family,” I requested.
“Before that, I was a waitress but I sucked and I did get fired. And before that…”
I let the words trail off.
I had started with a shovel and had continued with an auger, and now I’d moved on to operating an excavator to dig a hole for myself.
I patted my knee for Sir and when he walked over, I put my head down on his.
I wished that I could pull the dirt back over my body to hide.
“How long have you been sober?” Caleb asked.
“Three years,” I said.
“One thousand, four hundred, thirty-eight days, actually.”
“That’s a long time.”
I had been using for longer, though, because I’d started when I was thirteen.
“The second rehab took better,” I remarked, and stood.
“I’m going to check on Marc and see if he needs anything.” I removed the sweatshirt, carefully folded it, and put my muddy, wet coat back on.
Then Sir and I walked out into the rain again, and we waited for my cousin in his truck.
Marc left the office earlier than usual that afternoon, because he and Taygen had plans for New Year’s Eve.
“You sure you don’t want to come, KayKay?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head, “no, I really don’t.” I really did, but I was also really trying not to feel that way.
I wanted to go out and have fun, but it just wasn’t possible.
The parties hadn’t changed, but I had.
Hadn’t I?
“Marc, thanks for this job,” I said.
“Thanks for giving me this opportunity.”
He stared at me.
“You save my butt almost every day,” he told me.
“Thank you, right back.”
That was gratifying to hear.
“I’m definitely a different girl now,” I told Sir on the way home.
When we were in the car together, I always talked or sang to distract him from the misery of my cargo area.
“I really am, and I should say, I’m a different woman . I’m mature, for one thing. A lot more mature. I would never do any of the stuff that I used to do.”
I thought of puking in gross alleys or waking up and feeling wretched.
I’d gotten hurt a few times, too, such as when I’d fallen and broken my ankle and when I’d had to have my stomach pumped.
Then there was the emotional hurt, like how I’d let my parents down…
“I don’t miss the bad parts,” I told Sir.
It didn’t really follow what I’d said just before, but he was a dog.
He probably didn’t ever really follow what I was telling him, but that didn’t hinder our conversations.
“I miss…now, I don’t want you to take this as a criticism, because you’re great. You’re amazing and I already love you so much. But I miss having a guy. You’re great,” I repeated, “and you’re wonderful to snuggle with, although you do take up a lot of the bed and no offense, you still kind of smell like a skunk.” I’d changed my sheets three times since his arrival to combat that.
“I miss someone’s arms around me. I miss feeling skin next to mine. Maybe you would feel that way about a girl dog, like you would miss fur.”
I sighed.
“I have changed, though. It doesn’t matter if Marc pity-hired me in the beginning, because I’m doing a good job there now. I’m paying all my bills. I’m eating right, kind of. I’m definitely getting more exercise than I have in years, thanks to you. I have great friends, even if they’re a little busy right now. I’m doing much better and it would be a bad idea to try to get a boyfriend. After all, you have to clean up your own house before you can invite other people in, and that doesn’t mean washing the dishes in the sink and wiping down the bathroom. No man likes issues,” I told Sir, because my aunt Amber had been right about that.
I remembered how Caleb Woodson had reacted today when I’d gone on endlessly about my endless mistakes.
He’d looked a little ill.
“I’ll get there,” I assured my dog.
“Someday, maybe, I’ll have what Aria and Cassidy do. They have guys who love them and beautiful futures to look forward to. Oh, my Lord!” I realized that I had been crying a little.
“This is only because it’s another holiday,” I explained.
“It’s a time when I would have gone out and made sure that I got a kiss at midnight. You know, not all men looked at me like Caleb did this morning. Some of them—a lot them were interested.” I sighed.
“Never mind.”
We turned into my street and approached my duplex, and that was when I saw the truck.
Sir sat up in the back and barked, making the windows of my car tremble with the sound wave.
I looked at that old vehicle and thought that maybe someone besides my dog was interested in me right now. Maybe?