The dogs are under the coffee table, either asleep or doing a good job at pretending to be. I leave them be while I clean up the mess they made.
“Did you talk to Nathan?” I ask when she hands me my cup.
“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that last night.”
Probably because I barely let her come up for air. I grin at the memory of eating sandwiches in bed for dinner at around ten or so. Buck naked. If it were up to me, Taz would never wear clothes at home, but with the kids coming home next week, that’s not an option. In fact, we’ll probably have to get used to not touching each other all the time again. I love my kids and miss them, but that’s one part I’m not looking forward to.
“And?”
“He’s looked at the schedule and says if I can pick up a few extra shifts before and after, I can probably have most, if not all, of the last week of July.”
Taz had been immediately on board when we discussed taking the kids camping, it had been a matter of being able to take time off so soon after starting her new job. I find myself getting even more excited at the prospect of spending time in the outdoors with the kids and her, now I know we can start planning.
“I’ll tell Lisa to keep that week clear. I have an intern starting next week, in time for when the kids get back, so we should be covered.” I notice a pensive look steal over Taz’s face. “What’s wrong?”
She seems startled at my question and shakes her head. “Nothing really. I’ve just been thinking about logistics. I mean, I get that things will go back the way they were once the kids are back, but what about when we go camping? You said you have a tent, but maybe we should get a second one?”
I don’t need to ask why she’s suggesting it. Hell, I’ve been wondering how to introduce our changed relationships to the kids myself, but I’d hoped perhaps the camping trip would be a good time to ease them into it.
I step close to her and put my hands on her hips. “First of all, things can’t go back the way they were. It would be an impossibility.” I quickly press a finger to her lips when I see she’s about to protest. “Hear me out. I don’t plan on flaunting us in front of anyone, but if you think I can go any stretch of time without touching you, you’re nuts. We’ll be careful, but don’t ask me to go cold turkey. Not now that I’ve become addicted.” She shows a pleased little smile in response. “As for camping, the tent I have is big, and having only the one makes it perfectly justifiable for us all to sleep in one space, including the dogs. The kids likely won’t even question it.”
“What about after? When we get home?”
“One step at a time, Sweets.” I lean down and give her a hard kiss on the lips. “I’ve gotta run, but call me if you need me.”
Tagging my mug, I pick up my phone and my keys and make for the back door. I’ve barely stepped outside when I hear Taz’s voice behind me.
“Drop that, Stitch! Bad dog!”
I’m still grinning when I walk into the clinic.
“Do I wanna know?” Lisa questions me right away.
“The pups are teething and keeping Taz busy.”
“You know,” she says, leaning her chair back as she scrutinizes me. “You have been unusually upbeat this week. Almost nauseatingly giddy at times, if you must know the truth. Anything I missed?”
I meet her raised eyebrow with one of my own, but since I still have a grin on my face it’s not nearly as effective. “Can you book me off last week of July? The intern can maybe cover the walk-in clinic, and for emergencies we can always call on Rick Moore.”
“So Taz got the week off?”
The way she asks the question leaves me no doubt she has a pretty good idea of what has me in a good mood. “Yup.”
“I’ll make it happen.”
“Much appreciated. Oh, and, Lisa? Can you get me Mrs. Myers’ phone number?”
Taz
I’m not sure why I’m so nervous about tonight.
I’ve had butterflies in my stomach all morning while getting the house clean. Not that it was dirty, but with the dogs being their rambunctious selves, there’s bound to be slobber and hair somewhere. Scrubbing the laundry room and the fridge may have been a little over the top, though.
It’s my own fault I’m running a bit late getting to Express Liquor in Winona. They carry a decent selection and I make sure to stock up a little. This means I have my arms full as I half-run out of the store, wanting to get home so I can get started on dinner, and barrel right into someone, dropping half my load on the pavement.
“Shit! I’m so sorry,” I exclaim, first looking at the disaster at my feet before I glance up to find Kathleen in front of me.
“Planning a party?” she asks sardonically, looking from the mess on the ground to the remaining bottles I’m hanging onto for dear life.
“Sort of, and stocking up,” I explain.
“Party for two?”
“What? No. I…” Belated I realize how this might come across to Kathleen. I’ve all but avoided her this past week, letting a couple of calls go to voicemail. She knows me too well and I’ve been afraid she’d cotton on to the change in my relationship with Rafe too easily. I’m not ready to let reality—and the inevitable judgments it comes with—into our intimate bubble.
“Aren’t the kids in Kentucky?” she persists, and I find myself fidgeting.
“Well, yes, but—”
“It’s funny, because I was just talking about you this morning,” she says, as a Liquor Express employee comes rushing out with a broom and a dustpan and starts cleaning up the shards of glass. The young girl refuses my help with a smile and I turn back to Kathleen.
“Who were you talking to?” I ask, a little apprehensive.
“Mrs. Myers. She roped me into taking her damn dog for a walk in the mornings, and today I got an earful.”
“About what?” My feigned ignorance doesn’t fly as Kathleen makes it clear by tilting her head. “Fine. Her damn dog bit me yesterday. Apparently sweet as pie until you stick him in the tub, then he becomes a snarling heap of fur.”
“So that’s what happened. All she told me was that you threatened her yesterday, and that you apparently turned that nice Dr. Thomas—her words, not mine—against her. He called her this morning and got her all in a tizzy.”
I roll my eyes heavenward. “Lord, give me patience.” To Kathleen I say, “I told Rafe not to interfere. And I didn’t threaten her, technically. I merely told her if I wasn’t such a nice person I might be tempted to sue.”
My friend apparently finds that funny, because she busts out laughing. When she calms down, she asks, “What I’m surprised at is, with all this happening, you haven’t thought to call me. Or maybe return one of the messages I left?”
“I’m sorry. Things have been a bit…hectic.”
“I’m sure that’s as good word for it as any,” she mumbles, and I don’t even want to ask what she means by that. I can venture a guess. Like I said, Kathleen knows me well. “But, uh, getting back to what started all this, what’s with all the booze?”