Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 131387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
I nodded. “Yeah. I’ve seen it. Noticed there was some construction out there.”
She returned my nod. “Yup. So the town owns it now. They’ve cleaned it up, sectioned it off, and they’re renting studio space to artists.”
That got my attention.
“They’re going to have their own governing board, their own shop,” she continued. “And some of the artists are going to do classes. Painting. Pottery. Stuff like that. They’re also going to have yoga, tai chi and meditation classes. Even the local gym doesn’t do yoga classes, and we don’t have a studio. In this day and age, that’s something seriously lacking for MP. But the whole idea, I hope, is going to bring more people to town, even day-trippers who live closer.”
“Whoa, that sounds freaking amazing.” And I told no lie.
“Opening is next weekend. Saturday. Big deal. Tents in the parking lot. Booths for local businesses.”
Ah, hell.
“Oh shit, I remember you mentioning to me we should think of getting a booth there.”
She shook her head. “I had a better look at it and that’s the reason I didn’t pursue it with you. Kimmy isn’t going to have a booth, nor is Tim.”
“Kimmy and Tim?”
She looked stunned. “You haven’t met Kimmy yet?”
I shook my head.
She shot me a sly smile. “That’s something fun to look forward to. But she owns the holiday store.”
“I have noticed that, at least.”
“Yeah. And Tim manages the tack shop. But Aromacobana is going to do coffee and treats. And the candy store will have a booth, the ice cream shop, stuff like that. Along with the artists who are going to be working in the studios. People like the high school boosters, or the cheerleading squad, the junior hockey league, folks raising money for stuff. We weren’t a fit.”
“Okay.”
“We might find some things we’ll want here, though.”
“Agreed.”
“So, you wanna meet Brett, me and the kids? Saturday after this one. Say, at eleven?”
I did need to give up my hermit thing.
I probably needed to do that months ago, so now the time was over-ripe.
“That sounds fab.”
She grinned ear to ear.
I took in that friendly grin.
I was giving myself the full year’s rent on my cabin, which was, not incidentally, close to the full year’s rent on The Groove, to make a final decision to stay or to go.
But how could I know if I wanted to stay or go if I didn’t put the effort into knowing what I might be leaving?
“I also would love to go to a yoga class,” I informed her. “I used to go to one once a week. And I’ve never tried tai chi but always wanted to. And I’ve heard meditation is super good for you.”
The grin that got me was blinding. “Me too!”
“So let’s check it all out,” I suggested.
Her brown eyes warmed, and she said, “I’d really love that, Mabel.”
Oh yes.
She wanted to be my friend.
I needed a friend.
It was time to stop healing.
And time to start living.
I hoped my hazel eyes warmed when I replied, “I would too, Abigail. I would too.”
SIX
Mr. Grouch
Mabel
I was back up at the cabin, groceries in, brownies baking, sitting at my writer’s desk, staring out the window, willing a bearded dude to show his face so I could call the sheriff and tell him stuff was no longer alleged.
Then perhaps, with Rus Lazurus’s connections, maybe they could get the FBI involved (but perhaps not the ATF), go in with an army of law enforcement to make a point, and they’d leave me alone.
Wishful thinking.
I glanced down at my laptop in front of me.
On my screen, it had the photo array of dogs currently available at Stony Bluff Animal Rescue and Wildlife Sanctuary, an organization that was only about seven miles from my house, south down CR 10.
I’d already decided, because I’d fallen in love from afar with a red husky named Tonks.
The name didn’t thrill me, but to my shock, the dog looked like a purebred.
She was gorgeous, with those blue, blue eyes in a white face, with white inside her ears and coppery red over her forehead and down her back.
The site said she was a year old, and they listed no other breed but “red Siberian husky.”
I wondered why someone would surrender such a gorgeous dog.
Then I looked around her to the other pups on the array and knew I could wonder about each and every one of them too.
I couldn’t think on it.
To me, unless you were an old lady who was suffering from dementia and couldn’t remember to feed your pet, and you had no other family, so it had been surrendered for you, I wasn’t sure there was a single excuse someone could give that was acceptable to surrender a dog.
I wasn’t so judgy I didn’t know that some animals didn’t like babies, and if you suddenly had one (a baby, that was), you had to make tough choices. Or you got a new pet, and it didn’t get along with your other animals, so again, a tough choice had to be made. Ditto with say, you lost your job, and were worried about how to feed yourself, much less your animal.