Too Good to Be True(111)

“I love you, Mémé.”

She looked up, startled. “What’s wrong with you today?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to tell you.”

She took a breath, frowning, her face creasing into folds. “Well. Are we going or not?”

I smiled, resumed pushing and headed to the social. It was in full swing, and I danced with all my regulars and a few people I didn’t recognize. I even took Mémé out for a spin in the wheelchair, but she hissed at me that I was making a fool of myself and wondered loudly if I’d had too much to drink at the club, so I took her back.

Eventually. After two songs, that is.

My dress was admired, my hands were patted and held, even my hair was deemed pretty. I was, in other words, happy. Nat was heartbroken, and my own heart wasn’t doing too well, either. I’d ruined something lovely and rare with Callahan O’ Shea and made an idiot of myself in front of my family by faking a boyfriend. But that was okay.

Well, the idiot part was okay. Callahan, though…I’d miss him for a long time.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

WHEN I GOT HOME from Golden Meadows, it was nearly ten. Angus presented me with two rolls of shredded toilet paper, then trotted into the kitchen to show me where he’d vomited up a few wads. “At least you did it on the tile,”

I said, bending down to pet his sweet head. “Thank you for barfing in the kitchen.” He barked once, then stretched out in Super Dog pose to watch me clean.

“I hope you’ll like our new place,” I said, donning the all-too-familiar rubber gloves I used when cleaning Angus’s, er, accidents. “I’ll pick us out a winner, don’t you worry.” Angus wagged his tail.

Becky Mango had called yesterday. “I know this might be weird,” she said, “but I was wondering if you might be interested in the house next door to you. The one Callahan fixed up? It’s just charming.”

I’d hesitated. I loved that house, heaven knew. But I’d already lived in a house that was all about one failed relationship. Buying Cal’s, though it cost roughly the same as mine, would’ve been too Miss Havisham for me.

No. My next house would be about my future, not about my past. “Right, Angus?” I said now. He barked helpfully, then burped and flipped onto his back, craftily suggesting that I take a break from cleaning up his vomit to scratch his tummy. “Later, McFangus,” I murmured.

I blotted up his little mess, taking care not to let my hem get soiled. It was a pretty dress, but I was planning on taking it to the Salvation Army. I never wanted to see it again. That, and my wedding dress. Maybe Nat would want me to bring hers, too.

Tomorrow, I’d start packing. Even though I hadn’t found a house yet, I’d be moving soon. I could go through all my old tag sale finds, maybe have a sale of my own. Fresh start and all that.

As I Windexed the last traces of barf off of the floor and stuffed the paper towels into the trash, Angus leaped to his feet and flew out of the room in an explosion of barking. Yarp! Yarpyarpyarp!

“What’s wrong, honey?” I asked, coming into the living room Yarpyarpyarp!

I peeked around the curtains through the window and my heart surged into my throat so hard I nearly choked.

Callahan O’ Shea was standing on the front porch.

He looked at me, raised an eyebrow and waited.

My legs barely held me as I opened the front door. With a snarl, Angus launched himself on Cal’s work boot. Cal ignored him.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” I whispered.

His gaze went to my hands, which were still protected by the rubber gloves. “What are you doing?”

“Um…cleaning up dog puke.”

“Pretty.”

I just stood there. Callahan O’ Shea. Here. On my porch, where we’d first met.

“Mind calling off your dog?” he asked as Angus, his mouth clamped onto a good part of Cal’s pant leg, swung his little head back and forth, growling his kittenish growl.

“Um…sure. Of course,” I said. “Angus! Down cellar, boy! Come on!” My knees were shaking, but I managed to pick up Angus and shove him through the cellar door, down with the girl part sculptures. He whined, then accepted his fate and grew quiet.

I turned back to Callahan. “So. What brings you to the neighborhood?” My throat was so tight my voice squeaked.

“Your sisters paid me a visit,” he said quietly.

“They did?” I asked, my mouth dropping open.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Today?”

“About an hour ago. They told me about Andrew.”

“Right.” I closed my mouth. “Big mess.”

“You beat him up, I hear.”

“Yes, I did,” I murmured. “One of my finer moments.” A thought occurred to me. “How did they know where to find you?” Callahan had certainly not left a forwarding address with me.

“Margaret called her pals at the parole office.”

I bit down on a smile. Good old Margs.

“Natalie told me I was an idiot,” Callahan murmured, his voice low enough to cause a vibration in my stomach.

“Oh,” I squeaked, leaning back against the wall for support. “Sorry. You’re not an idiot.”

“She told me how you came clean with everyone.” Cal took a step closer to me, and my heart thudded so hard I felt like I might imitate Angus and throw up myself. “Said I was an idiot if I was going to just walk away from a woman like you.”