Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
I’m not sure the boy and his two daddies could be any more adorable together. “Would he like a c-o-o-k-i-e?” I ask, spelling it out in case the answer from his parents is no.
“He’d love that,” Ash says, looking down at his child with an indulgent grin.
As I pick one of the cutest cookies out of the case for him, the door chimes again and an older woman comes in. After I say goodbye to Ollie and his dads, she comes over to the counter. “Hello, you must be Jade.”
I don’t recognize her, nor do I wear a name tag, so I’m curious about how she knows me. “I am,” I say.
“I’m Lonnie. I used to work here before you were hired.”
“Oh, hi! It’s really nice to meet you,” I say.
“You too, dear.” Her smile is like a warm mug of tea. I used to hear from a lot of customers about how they missed her, and now I can see why. “I’ll bet you’ve been on your toes this month,” she says. “Don’t worry, things will slow down in January.”
“It has been tiring.” What I don’t mention is that I’ve been grateful to be so busy, because it gives me less time to dwell on what-ifs.
“Well, I won’t keep you. I just came in to get some cookies for my grandchildren. They’re going to be spending their holiday break with me.”
“Make sure you go back and say hello to Maddy. I know she’ll want to see you.”
After telling me what she’d like from the case, Lonnie goes into the kitchen to visit. It seems like the day is finally starting to slow down, so I take the opportunity to straighten up the coffee counter. The music is playing, decorations are all around, and everyone who’s been in has been excited about being with their loved ones for the holiday. So much seasonal cheer around me, and I feel like I’m looking at it all from the outside.
I love my parents, but I’m not particularly excited about seeing them on Christmas. Even though the animal shelter won’t be open to the public over the holiday, I’m still planning to spend a lot of time there taking care of the animals. Maybe I’ll start watching a new TV series to keep myself occupied in the evenings.
As I’m refilling the container of sugar packets, I hear a strange noise, like a faint scratching. When I stop what I’m doing to listen, the noise stops, but then starts again, slightly louder. It sounds like it’s coming from the front door, and as I move toward it, there’s a long plaintive howl that I recognize immediately.
Barnes is at the door, asking to be let in.
38
Lonely boys
There’s a leash attached to his collar, but, alarmingly, it’s lying slack on the ground.
“Where’d you come from, boy?” I ask, stepping out and squatting to pick up the leash to make sure he doesn’t run off. When I look toward the lot, I catch sight of Maddox and Diesel at the corner, but they appear to purposely be staying out of sight, so I pretend not to see them.
Returning my focus to Barnes, who’s pawing at my knee asking to be petted, I find a small paper scroll tied to his collar with a red ribbon. “What’s this?” I ask him, giving the spot behind his ear a good rub. I’ve missed this dog. Not as much as I miss his adoptive parents, but still a lot.
Unrolling the paper, I read, “Lonely boy seeks companion.”
“What does this mean? Why are you lonely, boy?” The dog looks back at me with his soulful eyes, but he can’t help me with any answers.
As I’m petting Barnes, the Stanton brothers materialize at my side. “He’s been lonely ever since you stopped coming over,” Maddox says.
“Why is he lonely? He has all of you, doesn’t he?” My heart is thumping in my chest and I’m impressed that I manage to speak.
“We think female companionship is what he’s missing,” Diesel says. “Maybe we should adopt another dog from the shelter.”
His tone is light, almost playful, so I say, “He’s neutered. I don’t think he cares about the gender of his companions.” Barnes rolls over at this point, offering me his belly. “Would you like me to help you choose another dog? The shelter is closed for the next few days, but it will be open on the twenty-seventh.”
“Actually,” Dodge says, crouching down next to me, his body so close that I can smell his wonderful scent, “this was our hopefully charming way of telling you that we miss you and your companionship. We’re the real lonely boys.”
“But Barnes does miss you too,” Chase adds.
“Oh. Well … to be honest, I’ve been lonely too.” I look around at all of them even while I keep Barnes wiggling with contentment on the ground.