“Let me talk to Mom.” I’d wait an hour and then call Erin with the green light. “If it works out, I’ll help you pack.”
“You shouldn’t lift heavy stuff.” She turned to scan her small apartment. “I might leave most things behind anyway. I mean, the prior tenant left that couch when I rented the place. I could sell my bed and other stuff, pocket the cash, and move into our old room for a while.”
I nodded enthusiastically because I hated almost everything in this apartment. After she saved money, I’d help her shop for new—or gently used—stuff. “Okay. Let me go work some magic on Mom. I’ll call you later.”
She stopped me when I stood to leave. “Hold up. Have you heard back from the PI?”
“Not yet.” I unbuttoned the top button of my shirt and tugged at the collar. “He’s checking on the deed, among other things.”
“I’m sure you’ll hear something soon.”
I shrugged, wishing I could feel a fraction of her eagerness, which told me something I didn’t want to acknowledge about my husband and our relationship.
“I’m sorry. I wish I . . .” She hesitated, appearing to weigh her words. “I wish this wasn’t happening to you. You don’t deserve it.”
This was the second time she’d been almost desperately gentle with me, yet I felt more embarrassed than pleased.
“Fairness never factors much into my life.” That wasn’t sour grapes but a simple acknowledgment that I’d worked harder for things most other people took for granted. “Meanwhile, Lyle should’ve been home days ago. People are asking questions, making it hard to keep the truth quiet.”
“Why hide it?”
“Initially, I didn’t want to complicate a reconciliation. I’m losing faith in that hope, but it hurts to admit that to myself, let alone talk about it with others.”
“Won’t your friends support you?”
Friends? As I said, things others take for granted don’t come easily to introverts like me. “Not without judgment . . . and pity.” I averted my gaze.
“Screw them, then. They aren’t real friends.”
I tilted my head, certain she missed the irony. “Even you have judgment and pity.”
She laughed while holding up her thumb and forefinger. “Only a little. But you shouldn’t have to hide. Call Lyle out for his behavior. Make him the object of disgust.”
“Except I’ll bear the brunt of all the censure and gossip while he’s off in Florida, despite the fact that I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“That’s Mom’s fear talking. Break through that noise.”
I stiffened. “I’m not ready.”
Erin grunted something. “Am I allowed to full-out hate Lyle yet, or is it too soon? ’Cause I really want to hurt him.”
“Sometimes I do, too.” I let the shock of that fan through me. “One second I’m fantasizing about cutting up his sports coats and burning his pictures, then the next breath I’m hugging his clothes and crying.”
Erin set a hand on my shoulder. “When you’re ready for the bonfire, call me.”
I dabbed my eye and chuckled. “Thanks.”
“Anytime. Now, before you go, I have one favor to ask.”
Uh-oh. “Shoot.”
“Would that PI do some digging on Eli?”
“No!”
“I’m kidding.” She batted my arm. “I mean, I’d love the scoop on the guy, but I’d never spy on him. Once I’ve got a plan for Shakti Suds, maybe I’ll find another way to learn his secrets.”
I remembered the time she took a job with Molly Maids to get inside a guy’s house. Her plan had backfired when she used Clorox Clean-Up with bleach on his marble countertops. “Don’t do anything rash.”
The diamond chip in her nose glinted. “But that’s the best way to do most things.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
ERIN
Shipping products continued to be my least favorite part of building my Etsy empire. Without a car, I’d resorted to transporting boxes to the post office in a rusty red wagon purchased last autumn at a garage sale. Not so great in the rain or snow, which required me to beg friends or family to borrow their cars. On a positive note, I lived only three-quarters of a mile from the post office. The trip to and from there did double duty as one of Mo’s daily walks, and sunny days like today translated to some quality vitamin D production.
“Come on, Mo. Stop sniffing other animals’ poo.” I jerked the leash a tad to redirect him. Crossing the street safely with a dog in one hand and a wagon filled with boxes in the other required focus and a bit of luck.
I didn’t like coming on Wednesdays because Mary worked on Wednesdays and she didn’t like Mo—or any dog—inside the building. As I was of the “better to ask for forgiveness” persuasion, that didn’t stop me from trying. I couldn’t leave Mo tied up outside by himself.
After rolling the wagon up the handicap ramp, I shortened Mo’s leash and bent to lift my three packages from the wagon. It wouldn’t be stolen because no one would want the rickety thing.
“Erin?”
I immediately recognized the voice behind me. Eli! When I turned around, my heart launched into an imitation of a Neil Peart solo. “Wow, this is a surprise!”
I supposed we could’ve passed each other in town before without noticing. I mean, I didn’t pay attention to most men, especially not while dating Max. Then again, it’d be hard to miss Eli, who looked fine this morning in belted caramel-brown khakis and a midnight-blue shirt.
He smiled. “Had to overnight something to Nashville.”
“Well, it’s nice to see you again.” I wondered briefly if he had family there.
His gaze moved from my wagon to Mo, who sniffed him like he kept bacon in his pockets. Eli crouched to scratch my dog behind the ears and, man, was I jealous. Mo’s tail wagged nonstop. Even I wanted to thump my foot with pleasure at the sight.
“Aren’t you cute.” Eli glanced up at me. “What’s his name?”
“This is Mo. The greatest dog ever, despite being overdue for a grooming.” I couldn’t help my grin. Mo filled my heart with light.
“Lucky me, meeting the greatest dog ever.” Eli’s slow smile rose to warm me like a sunrise.
“He likes you.” A fact that confirmed Mo’s superior intellect. “Or you have treats in your pocket. Hard to be sure.”
“No treats.” Eli chuckled as he stood. “You’ve got your hands full. Would it help if I sat here with Mo while you take care of those packages?”
Gallant too. Like my dad.
“Would you mind? I wouldn’t impose, but Mary works on Wednesdays, and she and Mo do not belong to a mutual fan club.”
“Obviously Mary has her head up her . . .” Eli winked and then held out his hand for the leash.
I set my chin on top of one box in order to keep them from toppling while I transferred the leash, so I couldn’t savor the electrifying brush of our fingers for near long enough. “Thanks so much. I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time.” Eli waved me off.