Chapter 8
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With her three animals in tow, Doreen headed down the river for a breath of fresh, albeit cold, air.
She needed to think, to get her mind cleared.
She should go down to the pub and get an idea of the lay of the land there.
Maybe, when she got back from her walk, she would.
But right now, just all these threads ran in and out of her mind, yet having no connection that she could see, at least none she knew of yet.
That was literally her problem. It wasn’t a case of no connection, but Doreen had yet to see any meaningful connections.
It would take however long it took before she understood what was going on here.
As she wandered down the river, Mugs was playing near the edge and getting wet.
She kept calling him back out again, but he wasn’t having it.
Goliath didn’t seem too interested in coming for a walk, but, now that he was outside, he was avoiding the water like the plague—whereas Mugs seemed to be having nothing but fun with the frigid river.
As soon as she got down a little bit farther, Mugs was in the river again.
Giving up on reining him in, she smiled at his antics.
When it was time to leave, she called him back, but he wasn’t having it.
“Mugs, come on,” she muttered. “That’s enough already.”
He turned and barked and ran down the river some more.
She raced after him, but that just made it a game in his mind.
By the time she finally caught him, got his leash back on, and started to drag him home again, she was soaked and getting colder.
As they neared the house, Mugs realized where they were going, then raced forward, this time half dragging her up to the rear kitchen door.
As she got inside the house, she was shivering like crazy.
Knowing that she was seriously cold to the point that she needed to do something about it, she unhooked the dog, grabbed some towels, and rubbed him down, which warmed her up slightly.
Then she headed upstairs for a hot shower.
When she came out, she wrapped up in more towels and burrowed into her bed.
Mugs found her there.
“See what you did?” she asked him.
He immediately burrowed into her and her towels, thinking that was great fun. She groaned but laughed at his antics.
“It’s a good thing that I love you, buddy.”
He woofed at her several times, then grabbed at one of her towels and tried to pull it away from her.
“I’m coming. I’m coming,” she muttered.
She got dressed again, went downstairs, and made a big pot of tea. As she sat here wondering what was coming next in the craziness of her world, Richie phoned her. “Richie, what’s the matter?” she greeted him.
“Nothing,” he replied, “nothing at all. But somebody has a birthday coming up, and I wanted to know when and where you want to do the party?”
Her jaw snapped shut, and she groaned. “Oh my gosh, I completely forgot about Nan’s birthday.”
“I understand,” he replied, “and that’s why I’m calling. I can’t let you forget.”
“No, Nan would be heartbroken,” she murmured.
“She would, indeed. That gal likes her time in the limelight.”
Doreen winced. “Which is amazing, considering that I can’t stand the limelight.”
He chuckled. “So, in that case, why don’t we have it down here at Rosemoor?” he suggested. “I was thinking that maybe you could come for dinner too that day.”
“Sure, I can come for dinner,” she agreed.
They settled up on the night for the party, which coincided with Nan’s actual birthday. Richie confirmed that was one of the days available for booking at Rosemoor. As Doreen went to get off the phone, she asked Richie, “Have you got any ideas for birthday gifts?”
He laughed. “I’ll give her flowers because that seems to be a safe thing, but for you? I have no clue.”
“Right,” she responded sourly, “thanks for that.”
He burst out laughing. “You’re the detective, Doreen. You figure it out.”
She winced at that, then nodded, not quite sure what else to say. She ended the call but now had something else to worry about too. She sent Mack a text, reminding him that Nan’s birthday was coming up and asking him for a gift idea.
When no answer came right back, she figured he was as stumped as she was and wondered what he gave his mother on her birthdays.
As if reading her thoughts, Nick phoned her soon afterward.
“Are we done with all the paperwork yet?” she asked.
“Almost,” he stated. “I’m sending what should be the bulk of the paperwork for right now, and I need you to sign it, digitally of course, and send it back to me.”
“Okay, will do,” she agreed. “While I have you, I’m trying to figure out a gift idea for my grandmother, as her birthday is coming up. I texted your brother for ideas, but he was no help at all.”
“That’s not shocking. How old will she be?”
“I have no clue,” she admitted, “and believe me that I’m not asking her either.”
Nick laughed. “Is she still worried about her age? She’s not yet to the point where she’s proud of having made it another year?”
“No, not yet. And I thought she was eighty-three, but, if she heard me say that number out loud, I think she would get very angry, very fast.”
There was a smile in his tone when he suggested, “In that case, don’t say it. It doesn’t matter how old she is, and, if it’s her birthday, she might even be trying to hide that it’s her birthday too.”
“Maybe,” she muttered, “but she’s not allowed to. Besides, she likes all that attention. Luckily I’ve already gotten a phone call from someone reminding me that I had already forgotten her upcoming birthday,” she shared, “and I can’t have that happen.”
“No, you don’t know how many more she’s got, so let’s at least make the most of them. Make it count while you can.”
“Exactly, but I don’t know what to get her.”
“I have no clue,” he replied. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” With that cheerful note, he rang off.
She glared down at her phone. “How come I have to figure this out?” she muttered. “How come I have to figure everything out?” she asked, raising both hands in frustration. “How come nobody else is figuring out stuff for a change?”
With a sigh, she sat down and started a Google search for gift ideas for old people, then realized that Nan would be offended by that too.
Nan was hardly old, given the context in which she lived.
Yet she was old in the sense of being compared to mainstream society.
She was at least eighty, maybe even eighty-five-ish.
Doreen didn’t even know. She didn’t have any documentation to give her that information either. As she stared down at the animals, she wondered what she could do for a special gift for her special grandmother.
She started thinking about it and realized that photographs and that sort of thing were very popular gifts for seniors.
As she continued to scroll the internet, she came across an advertisement that caught her eye and made her smile.
Pet portraits. That was something Nan would love, but when she saw the name of the local photographer who was doing the portraits, her smile turned to one of deep satisfaction, and she nodded.
Perfect.
Because, sure enough, it was a Burgon, a Danny Burgon.
With that, she picked up her phone, and, when she got no answer, she left a message, saying she was interested in getting portraits done of her three pets for her grandmother’s birthday.
She understood it was a very short time frame but reached out anyway, hoping that maybe they could fit her in.
Then she sat back to wait, and, while she waited, she went back to work.
If she could get a picture of the three animals for Nan, that would be an ideal gift as Nan absolutely loved them.
Although she would also want a portrait of Doreen, but that was a whole different gift idea altogether.
Besides, when people got older, some didn’t want gifts or didn’t want photographs because that just reminded them how old they were.
Doreen had heard of various people letting go of extra possessions as they aged because they relied on their memories instead.
However, in many cases, they then lost their memories too.
Still, Doreen had done something constructive, and, if it wasn’t possible to get it done by this photographer, then maybe it would be by someone else.
The fact of the matter was, Doreen was looking for an excuse to talk to the Burgon family and to sort out more about their history, and this provided an awesome opportunity.
When the call was returned ten minutes later, she spoke directly with Danny Burgon, who arranged for an initial visit the next day.
“So, are you bringing two dogs?” he asked.
“No,” she replied, with a laugh. “I am bringing a dog, a cat, and a bird.”
When silence came on the other end, she wondered if that had tipped him off to her identify. Maybe he would refuse to see her.
“That’ll be a first,” he noted. “I’ll have to see what they look like and how they interact. I might end up working with photographs instead of them directly.”
“That’s fine,” Doreen replied. “We’ll come down, and you can make an assessment for yourself.”
“Good enough.”
Beaming a fat smile, she got to work making dinner, just in case Mack showed up. When he was as busy as he was, she had absolutely no way to know. But also, when he got this busy, he just needed a hot meal that he didn’t have to cook for himself.
Doreen was trying a new recipe that she had tripped over on the internet, while she’d been researching the Burgon family yet again. As she put on the final touches, putting it back in the oven for the cheese to melt, Mack drove up.
Mugs let her know by caterwauling at the front door, as if somebody had died. She walked over just as Mack opened it. He bent down to give the wiggling Mugs a big hello, then smiled at her.
Doreen shook her head. “You would think he knows that it’s you.”
“Oh, he knows,” Mack confirmed, laughing. Mack held up a bag that had dog treats inside.
“Right,” she muttered. “So what you’re really doing is bribing my dog into liking you.”
“No, not at all,” he declared, “but, if he wants to think that, I won’t dissuade him.”
She laughed. “He doesn’t need more dog treats, you know? He’s not exactly a slim puppy anymore.”
“I see that,” he agreed, studying Mugs’s waistline. “Are you worried about it?”
“No, not really, but, if I were to take him back to his vet, he would be horrified.”
“I’m sure it’s probably just as bad for the pets to be overweight as it is for their humans,” he conceded, patting his own muscled girth.
“Maybe,” she replied. “I don’t think it’s a problem yet with him, and I hope it never gets to be. He’s already plenty active, and, if I’m supposed to take him outside and get him even more active, I would probably die running after him.”
He burst out laughing. “You do take him for lots of walks already.”
“I do, but less so with the cold weather,” she pointed out.
“Of course, and that’s to be expected. Again, don’t keep putting all this pressure on yourself.”
She shrugged. “Easy for you to say.”
“I know.” He gave her a smile. Then his nose wrinkled, and he sniffed. He looked over at her, one eyebrow raised.
She shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s edible.”
His face cracked into a smile. “I won’t say it’s not edible,” he shared. “I’m pretty darn sure that it will be fine.”
“That’s just because you’re hungry,” she pointed out.
He grinned. “That’s the perfect time to test a recipe, when you’re hungry, because you’ll either scarf it down, which will mean it’s absolutely wonderful, or you’ll still scarf it down and say it was good enough, but maybe you don’t need to repeat it.”
She frowned at him, yet nodded. “That’s really smart.”
He rolled his eyes at her. “I know this may be a news flash for you, but generally people would consider me smart.”
She wrinkled up her nose and grinned. “News flash,” she repeated. “Most people wouldn’t think I’m very smart at all.”
He bopped her on the nose and added, “News flash, … that’s old news. The current news is our Doreen is the smartest gal this side of the forty-ninth parallel.”
She frowned at him in astonishment.
He laughed. “You just don’t see yourself how everybody else sees you,” he pointed out, “but we’ll work on changing that.”
“Do they really think I’m smart?” she asked, as she trailed him into the kitchen.
“Look at all the cases you’ve closed,” he began, turning to look at her in astonishment.
She shrugged. “Sure, but some of those were about you too.”
“Sure, some of them were, and some of them I was still trying to figure out what the heck was happening, when you already had it solved,” he admitted, then shrugged.
“And some of them didn’t make any sense to me even after you’d solved them.
Yet somehow the pieces all fit together, and you get confessions.
So, most of us are just, like, yeah, … that’s a Doreen case.
We don’t understand how or what, but you know how it works, so it’s a Doreen case. ”
She faced him, and her smile, though slow in coming, was deep and heartfelt.
He nodded as he put his arms around her. “Smiles like that will get our wedding date moved up.”
She gave him a powerful kiss. “Thank you.”
He sighed, wrapped her up tightly, and just held her. “Back to that whole self-confidence thing, where you are your own worst enemy.”
“I think that’s exactly why it’s called a self-confidence problem,” she noted, “because anybody who has self-confidence issues is their own worst enemy.”
“Yeah, but now that Mathew’s gone, I was hoping you would park a lot of that.”
“I have parked a lot of it,” she said, with a laugh, “or buried it anyway. Burying him meant burying a lot of those issues, and I am absolutely ecstatic to come back as strong as I have,” she shared. “Yet there will always be times when I get caught by surprise, and it pops back up.”
“And that’s okay too,” Mack told her. “It really doesn’t matter. This isn’t a test.”
“Good,” she muttered, “because I can tell you that I would fail.”
Just then the oven timer beeped, and she gasped, raced over, and bent down to open up the oven. Seeing her dinner was not burned at all, she gave a crow of delight and pulled out her chicken dish. She looked over at him and said, “Hopefully this will be worthwhile.”
“It’s already worthwhile,” he stated, as he snagged up plates and gave her a smile. “I didn’t have to cook. It’s been a long day, and I have a hot, fresh meal waiting. Believe me when I say, That’s perfect.”
And it was. She beamed as he ate everything on his plate and had seconds. He sat back, looking at her and back again at his empty plate. “See? … Like I said, perfect.”