Chapter Seventeen
The sun woke me, and I remembered Yummy was still with Aunt Irene. I missed the little guy. He had gotten to me and after realizing Clark’s betrayal, I needed Yummy’s unconditional love. I showered, dressed, and headed downstairs.
I saw Georgie slip her phone in her pocket. She wasn’t smiling.
“What’s wrong,” I asked as I walked into the living room.
“Nothing really,” Georgie said looking at me. “I spoke to Paul. They had a busy night while we were playing detective, and he had to leave some of the cleaning until this morning. I also have inventory. I’ll be done at noon. Can we go to Inga’s house then?”
“Of course.” I smiled at her and gave her a hug. “Work’s important. I’m not ready to see what kind of mess Berg left at the bookstore. I think I’ll take Aunt Irene to the shelter and look for a pet. After lunch, you and I’ll go to Inga’s. I need to get the keys from Lucas first anyway.”
“You’re the best,” she called as she headed for my door stopping long enough to grab a bar from my inexhaustible supply of on the go cereal bars. “Mmm, cherry, my favorite,” I heard her say as the door closed.
I smiled as I walked to Aunt Irene’s. She opened the door cuddling Yummy.
“Good morning, Aunt Irene,” I kissed her cheek. “I’m going to make omelets and then if you’d like we could go to the shelter.”
“Really,” her green eyes sparkled reminding me of my dad.
“Yup, they open at eight. We’ll leave right after breakfast.”
She handed me Yummy and turned to hurry back inside. I laughed, placed Yummy in his puppy run, and went back inside to start breakfast. My phone vibrated in my pocket. It was Clark. I pressed “ignore.” He was not going to get a chance to make a fool of me again. I can do that easily enough by myself. I sure don’t need his help.
I cracked six eggs in a bowl and with the sound of each egg cracking I felt calmer. I pictured breaking the eggs on top of Clark’s head. Two Denver omelets made from two and a half eggs each and one plain scrambled egg for Yummy. Aunt Irene’s timing was perfect. She and Yummy arrived as I slid the egg into his bowl.
Yummy barked and sniffed at his bowl for several minutes before devouring his treat. Maybe it was too hot, or he was excited.
Aunt Irene and I ate a more leisurely breakfast. I explained about the problems I had the previous night and she told me again not to judge Clark too harshly.
“What is it with you and Clark?” I asked taking another bite of my omelet.
“I have lived here all my life. Your dad grew up here. So did Clark’s parents. We all knew each other. Clark was always a good boy. If you want to watch out for someone, I suggest you keep an eye on Heidelberg. His father tried to get me to go out of town with him one weekend while he was married. The acorn doesn’t fall far from the tree.” She picked up her coffee mug with both hands and sipped. She looked at me and smiled, “Just because someone is supposed to be a good guy doesn’t mean he is and vice versa. When are we leaving?”
Aunt Irene loved to impart tidbits of logic or wisdom, speak her mind, and change the subject. “We can leave whenever you’re ready.”
She popped off her chair announcing, “Bathroom break first.” Another of Aunt Irene’s bits of wisdom, always use the bathroom if you can before going somewhere. You never know when you might need one if you don’t, and the one available might not be suitable for a lady to use. I used the bathroom while she put Yummy in his carrier. I find Aunt Irene’s wisdom to be quite valuable.
We arrived at the shelter just before it opened. I carried Yummy’s carrier, and Aunt Irene opened the door for all of us. Grace was working behind the counter.
She looked up. “Good morning Aunt Irene and Annie. How are you this morning?”
Aunt Irene, never having had children, sort of adopted half the town. They came to her with problems, questions, and her famous chocolate chip cookies.
“We’re doing great, Grace, thanks. We were hoping to find a small companion for Aunt Irene,” I said.
Grace looked at Yummy’s carrier. “I heard you inherited Yummy. Isn’t he just the sweetest?” She poked the tip of her finger in the mesh in the front of Yummy’s carrier, and he yipped and licked it. She looked up, “I think we have a dog as sweet as Yummy you might like. I should’ve asked. Do you want a dog or cat?”
“Dog,” Aunt Irene answered.
When Grace opened the door to the kennel area, all the dogs began to bark. She ushered us to the section where they kept smaller dogs.
“Here’s the dog I had in mind.” She opened the cage and removed a small light brown dog. “Follow me,” Grace said leading us to another room where Aunt Irene could meet the dog without all the commotion of the big room.
She placed the dog on the floor and Aunt Irene began to talk to her. The little dog ran to Aunt Irene, and she scooped her up. The dog licked her chin and settled into her arms.
“Looks like a match,” I said. “What can you tell us about her?” I asked.
“Her name is Peanut Butter, but she answers to Peanut. The kids in the family named her. She is half pedigree Norwich Terrier, and
