Chapter 32
D enny almost danced a jig she was so happy to see sweet little Rosie. Not that she knew how to dance Scottish style. But she just might learn the Scottish reel or jig while she was here. Who knew what her future held? Yet she warned herself that life and happiness were fleeting at best. Both her parents were dead, and she carried within her something lethal that her gynecologist and oncologist could not locate. How could her condition be treated until it was diagnosed?
She pushed the gloomy thoughts aside as she focused her eyes on Alec when he brought Princess back inside. Denny had better not rely too much on Alec either. She watched him as he towel-dried Princess. The warmth from the furnace melted the remaining snow from her fur.
Denny sat mesmerized watching Princess examine each of her pups and nestle in with them. Denny recalled how despite her childhood nagging her parents had refused to buy her a dog. Eventually, she’d attended college and studied English literature, much to her father’s dismay. And he’d complained when she elected to open a bookstore. “You should work your way up the corporate ladder,” he’d told her more than once. Every conversation turned into a lecture. The thought of laboring in the Big Apple and being a peon in a corporation held no allure to Denny. At heart she was a small-town girl. A single, small-town girl who liked to read. But she knew a man and a library full of books couldn’t fix everything.
She reached down to stroke Rosie, and Princess gave Denny the evil eye. “It’s okay, mama dog,” Denny said. “I won’t hurt her. Not for anything.” Then reality set in. She would have to wait at least eight weeks to transport her home. She’d have to find what the requirements were for importing a dog into the States.
“I wonder how much Princess’s owner will charge me for Rosie,” she contemplated out loud. Her savings account had been dwindling.
“If he’ll sell her at all.” Alec’s serious tone revealed foreboding. He shifted his weight. “The hotel’s owner’s nickname is Old Man MacDonald. Some call him a grumpy old man and for good reason. Mr. MacDonald is rarely in a good humor. Maybe you could buy a puppy when you return to the States. There must be many kennels.”
“That’s probably a more practical idea, but I love this pup.” She remembered Lydia’s mentioning a cute but naughty cairn terrier everyone adored living in Lancaster County. “I’ll speak to the owner when he makes it in.” Denny was not ready to give up on Rosie. It’s not as if they were going anywhere today what with this dump of snow. “Did the weatherman give any idea how long the snowstorm will last?”
“Apparently, it’s not letting up for several days. Maybe longer. I feel badly about promising to drive you and your sister and her daughter around the island and then not being able to fulfill my obligation.”
Denny was glad he hadn’t mentioned Lydia, whom she expected would be his choice to spend time with.
Molly descended the staircase carrying a dish of dog food and fresh water, then turned on her heels and trotted back up the stairs. Princess’s ears pricked, and her tail wagged. Denny admonished herself for not thinking of food and water first. She had much to learn about caring for a dog. She would have to get ready for Rosie.
“We’d better give Princess privacy,” Alec said.
“I suppose you’re right.” Denny didn’t want to leave.
“You’re up early,” he said.
“Insomnia. I’ve had it big-time ever since our parents’ accident.” In her mind, she finger-quoted the word accident because she’d wondered if the other vehicle had intentionally rammed into her parents’ car. No, she’d watched too many thriller movies on TV and read to many mystery novels. Who would want to harm them? She envisioned the collision and shuddered.
She felt tears pressing at the back of her eyes but willed them away. No more pity parties.
“Another cup of coffee?” he asked.
“Good idea.” She followed him up the stairs to see Lydia standing at the oven extracting a pan. “Something smells delicious,” Denny said as they entered the kitchen. She wanted to show Alec that she had compassion for Lydia if she could. “Lydia, I’ll help as soon as this coffee kicks in.”
“That would be wonderful. I feel silly for forgetting the recipe.” Chopped onions sat in a mound on the counter. “I can’t remember what these onions are for.”
“No matter, we’ll think of something.” Denny found an apron.
“I’ll chip in and help you and Molly,” Alec said, cinching an apron around his waist. “I worked in a restaurant in college. Together we can handle it.”
Denny pursed her lips and held in her questions about why he had been expelled from college and had lost his scholarship. She guessed he lived with a mountain of disappointments and regrets too. Maybe everyone did.
Molly swished into the kitchen. She slipped her arm through his and glanced down at his apron. “What’s this, are you going to help me serve breakfast?”
“If you trust me not to drop anything.”
Denny thought the two of them seemed awfully chummy.
“How about if I serve the food and you pour them water, coffee, tea, or whatever beverage they’d like.” Molly’s lips wore a fresh coat of lipstick. “If they want hot chocolate, I can fix it in the kitchen. Or Lydia can.”
“Yah,” Lydia said. I will make them hot chocolate if anyone requests it.”
“Sounds good,” Molly said. “If you get buried in orders, one of us can come back and help you cook. Every time I take an order, I will put it right here.” She pointed to a nail affixed to the wall. Once you make the item, please do remember to put the order slip in this basket so it doesn’t get made twice. Make sense?”
“Yah, I understand and can do that.”
“We shouldn’t be busy today as there are few people left in the hotel,” Molly said. “But you never know. My hunch is that schools are closed, so families may come out to eat. We’ll have to wait and see.”
The windows rattled as the wind kicked up. Denny glanced outside. Millions of snowflakes twirled to the ground. She’d heard each snowflake was unique. No two the same. She wasn’t sure why this brought her solace. But it did.