And that started Mugs off in a cacophony of barking.
She glared at Thaddeus. “Why? Why do you have to go ruin the peace and quiet?”
Instead of giving her a well-thought-out answer, he looked at her, bent over, and bobbed his head up and down. “He-he-he-he.”
She glared at him. “You know that you’re becoming a real pain, right?”
He stopped and looked at her and blinked.
And once again she felt like a heel. “Fine,” she muttered. “While we should wait for Mack, let’s go down to the creek.” She opened the back door, letting Mugs lead the way, as he raced out into the backyard, barking, but at nothing. She shook her head at that, looked down at Goliath. He remained stretched out on the kitchen floor, eyeing the open door.
“Do you want to come, buddy?”
Goliath sniffed the air, as if to say, Hah, you finally invited me. And, with that royal attitude, he sauntered out the door, even as Thaddeus hopped onto the railing out on the deck—a deck that she absolutely adored—and then onto her shoulder, as she walked past. She looked over at him. “You could walk, you know.”
And he curled his head against her shoulder and whispered in a low voice, “Thaddeus loves Nan.”
“Yeah, I’m not Nan.”
He’d started doing that a couple times a day too. Doreen wasn’t sure if it was just about seeing Nan or if this was Thaddeus’s way of telling Doreen that he needed more attention. He lifted his head and looked at her with that stare. “Nan, Nan, Nan.”
Thaddeus was doing his best to convince Doreen to walk down to Nan’s. She groaned. “It’ll be dinnertime at Rosemoor soon. We’d have to come right back. We don’t want to interrupt Nan’s dinner or not be here for Mack, now do we?”
Almost immediately she got a text on her phone. It was from Mack.
I’ll be an hour late for dinner.
She stared down at it, even as Thaddeus peered at her phone too. On her shoulder, he repeated, “He-he-he-he.”
Wow, he can read my mind and my phone too? Doreen shook her head, giving in. “Okay, fine. We’ll walk down to Rosemoor, have a quick visit with Nan, and then we’ll come back to meet Mack.” She headed along the river and quickly pulled out her phone and dialed Nan.
“Hi,” Nan cried out. “You coming for a visit?”
“Well, I was thinking of coming for a short one. Mack will be a little late for dinner.”
“Ah,” Nan noted, with that wealth of innuendo in her tone.
Doreen glared at her phone. “But I’m only coming if you don’t bug me about Mack.”
At that, Nan laughed out loud. “Oh my, it’s that serious, huh?”
“It’s not that serious at all,” Doreen argued, her tone turned stiff.
“Come on down, child,” Nan replied. “It’d be absolutely lovely to see you. I’ve missed you. I was hoping to see you this past weekend.”
Doreen winced. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll explain when I get there.”
She put away her phone, and, with the others in tow, she walked along the river, amazed at how much lower it was now. Mugs could walk into the river bed several feet away from the bank now, without getting wet at all. With the three of them tagging along at various speeds, they finally made it to Nan’s.
As Doreen walked across the grass, not on the stepping stones, she still winced. If Rosemoor’s old gardener had witnessed her doing this, he would have been on her case terribly. She made her way across the grass to find Nan on her little patio, waiting for them.
Nan smiled up at Doreen, then bent to greet Mugs and Goliath, who absolutely adored her. When she straightened, she smiled at Thaddeus on Doreen’s shoulder and then studied her granddaughter and noted, “You look lovely.”
Doreen raised an eyebrow. “I look the same as always.”
“Nope, not quite. You’ve put on a little bit of weight, and you look like you’re …” Nan paused. “Settled.”
At that, Doreen frowned. “That doesn’t sound too nice.”
“Oh, doesn’t it?” Nan asked. “I thought it was a lovely word. Let’s just say that you don’t look like you’re on the edge all the time anymore. You’ve taken a step back from the cliff.”
“What cliff?” Doreen asked, confused. She pointed at the little patio table and chairs. Then sat herself.
“The one called life,” Nan noted gently. “You don’t look like you’re starving or worried about where your next paycheck’s coming from.”
“Well, I should be,” Doreen muttered. She watched as Nan sat down and poured tea for them both. “Apparently everything’ll still be a while.”
“Some of these things take time,” Nan agreed. “But you will let me know if you run into serious trouble, right?”
Doreen laughed. “You know perfectly well I would try very hard to not have to ask you for any more help. You’ve been so generous already.”
“Generous, my foot.” Nan shrugged. “You’re my granddaughter. I’m entitled to spoil you.”
“And believe me. I greatly appreciate it. Mugs and I would be homeless without you. And I have so much pending money in progress, but nothing’s come to fruition yet.”
“What about Robin’s will?” Nan asked, referring to Doreen’s former divorce lawyer, who’d been murdered, but even stranger, somehow in a bit of clarity—maybe even anticipating her untimely death—had left everything to Doreen.
“It’s in probate, and they’ve still got to sell the house and her other physical holdings,” Doreen explained. “Plus, somewhere along the line, whenever that’s all taken care of, I’ll get an idea of what kind of money is involved and when I’ll get it.”
“Well, she owned property in Vancouver.” Nan beamed at the thought. “We know what the property prices there are like.”
“We do.” Doreen shook her head and threw up her hands in frustration. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll get much for it. Besides, I don’t even know what all she owned, much less what she might owe to everybody.”
“No, I suppose not,” Nan agreed. “The lawyers will definitely take a pile off the top, won’t they?”
“I expect so,” she murmured. “So far my experience with lawyers has not been that great.”
“What about Nick? Mack’s brother should be a good one.”
“I keep bugging him. I’m wondering if he’s ignoring me.”
“Maybe.” Nan had a sip of tea and then laughed. “But don’t stop. You know how I feel about the squeaky wheel.”
“I do, indeed.” She smiled. “And I don’t think he’s deliberately trying to ignore me. I think my ex is trying to ignore him on the whole divorce settlement issue, so I guess Nick has nothing to tell me yet.”
“Of course your husband—”
“Soon-to-be ex-husband,” Doreen corrected.
“Yes, dear. But technically and legally still your horrid husband. Anyway, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he tries to argue against your bequeathment from the will.”