Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Raven went back into the center to feed the cats. Mal and Daisy were heading out tonight, and she was alone for the first time in a week.
After the lead-up to the Pages and Paws launch, she now had a flurry of adoptions to contend with. Which was, in truth, her favorite part of the job.
When she was finished, she walked back across the gravel to her home, fed Jackie, and settled down on the couch to take in the early news, and a news report about a break-in in Calgary.
Calgary—where her daughter was now living, apparently.
Not in Edmonton with McKenzie. What was she doing in Calgary?
She had learned her daughter’s whereabouts during her lunch with Rosalyn. When her friend asked how Wren was enjoying her new city, she had to admit she didn’t know.
“I think you should call McKenzie,” said Ros. “She hasn’t said much, which means she knows more than she’s letting on.”
They spent the rest of their brunch talking about the center, the new garden Rosalyn was growing with Andrew, and any other topic they could think of—anything to keep from dwelling on why Wren was keeping her mother in the dark.
As soon as they were done their meal and had said their farewells, Raven grabbed her phone and called McKenzie.
“She’s got a boyfriend,” McKenzie told her, almost at a whisper, as though she were still twelve and didn’t want to share a confidence.
“And what’s he like?” asked Raven.
“He’s… I don’t know. He’s okay. He’s got a job working as a mechanic in Calgary. So she decided to get a job there for the summer.”
“And school? Is she planning to return in the fall?”
“Umm…”
“McKenzie?” Raven asked, in the same tone she used when Wren and McKenzie were younger and she knew she wasn’t getting the whole story.
“She didn’t do as well as she thought she would in one of her classes,” said McKenzie.
“And?”
“And she says she’s sure she won’t get into vet school, so she may as well quit. Get a job. And this guy…”
“And this guy?”
McKenzie took a deep breath. “Raven, I don’t like him. He’s… I don’t know, not really right for her, but she’s down on herself right now so, you know…”
“No, I don’t know.”
“He’s the kind of guy who just takes life as it comes, doesn’t have a lot of ambition,” blurted McKenzie. “Kind of expects Wren to want some traditional role. Not to get a career. Just to get a job. You know?”
“That doesn’t sound like Wren.”
“I think she’ll come to her senses soon,” said McKenzie. “It’s just right now she kind of thinks she’s in love, I think. And he’s taking care of her…”
“Is that why she isn’t texting me?”
“If she isn’t texting you, it’s because she thinks she’s already disappointed you. And she doesn’t know how to fix it yet.”
“Well, next time you’re in touch with her, tell her I want to talk to her, and maybe mention that I failed calculus myself the first time around. The world is still revolving around the sun.”
“I’ll tell her,” promised McKenzie.
“Thanks. And text me this guy’s name and, if you have it, his address. If I don’t hear from her soon, I might come out for a visit. Not to interfere, just to see her.”
Raven had flown across provinces for less.
“Okay,” said McKenzie, receiving the message Raven was sending loud and clear. Raven had demonstrated in the past that where Wren was concerned, she would not hesitate to fly out and confront the new boyfriend. She hated that she was that predictable.
But Wren could be predictable too. She would do anything to avoid having Raven swoop in. Raven was confident that as soon as McKenzie spoke to Wren, Raven would get a call.
The news story on the television shifted to one she’d already heard, about a pipeline no one wanted, and she flicked through the channels, looking for something else. Not finding anything, and deciding she’d had enough alone time, she picked up her phone to call Lance.
“Hey.” His warm voice vibrated over the line. “I was just going to call you. We didn’t have that coffee date yet today.”
“I think you might be right about the couple who adopted the Tumble Twins. There’s a definite spark.”
He chuckled. “Maybe you can expand the business.”
“What? To Pages, Paws, and Promises?”
“Or Pages, Paws, and Passion.”
Her smile slipped as her mind wandered to what that could look like. “What are you doing tonight?”
“I’m free tonight.”
“Do you feel like driving out? I could make us some dinner.”
“Or, better yet, I can bring Indian food.”
“You do know a way to a woman’s heart,” she said, pleased he knew her well enough to know her favorite dishes. And a little afraid, too. He had become so indispensable in only a few short weeks.
“We could talk about the expansion some more. I have some new ideas.”
“We could,” she said, not feeling particularly committed to talking at all.
“Or we can just watch TV and chill.”
“That sounds good.” She smiled. “I’ll see you in—what? About an hour or so?”
“Yes. I’ll see you in an hour.”
Raven settled back into her chair and scanned the room. It could do with a tidy before she had company. She rushed around the living room and kitchen, cleared off counters, dusted, then went into her bedroom to change her shirt and at least make the bed.
And tidy.
The phone rang.
She went into the kitchen to grab her cell from the counter and answer it, but it stopped, just as she heard tires on the gravel outside.
If it was important, they’d call back, she decided.
She smoothed down her slacks, paused at the mirror, and ran her fingers through her thick, dark hair. Not bad for a woman in her fifties.
No, that’s wrong, she corrected herself.
Not bad.
Period.
In fact, looking at her reflection again, she noted the muscles in her arms from spending hours caring for animals and keeping her large garden. Even her skin had a healthy glow.
Yes, she was doing okay in the health department.
And, she thought, as she opened the door to Lance, who held up a bag holding their dinner, she wasn’t doing too badly in the relationship department either. She hugged him and accepted his kiss.
Yes, she had little to complain about. If her daughter would only call and tell her where she was and what she was doing, her life would be perfect.
“That was wonderful,” said Raven a few minutes later, reaching across the table to squeeze Lance’s hand. “Thank you for taking the time to bring it.”
“Any excuse for Indian food.” He squeezed her hand back and gazed at her. “How are you doing, now that the launch is done?”
“You know. Always something to do. This week I’ll be weeding the garden. It’s been a couple of weeks since I spent much time outside.”
“Maybe I can come out and help one evening,” he said. “I miss my garden more than I thought I would.”
“I’ll take any help I can get.” She swallowed as she noticed the passion in his eye.
It still took her by surprise, though it wasn’t the first time he’d looked at her like that.
She pulled her hand away so he wouldn’t see she had begun to shake.
Not in fear of him. No. In fear of what would come next.
Because once she crossed that line—that line she longed to cross—going back was impossible.
“What would you like to do now?” she asked, finding her words. “A game of crib or a movie?” But tonight was not going to be about cards or television. It was, finally, going to be about something else.
She stood, and he did too, not taking his eyes from her. “I think I can find something else to do,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.
She didn’t answer, just walked toward him and into his arms, pleased she had taken the time to tidy her bedroom before he arrived.