I bent over and looked at him, “Are you that attached to me already or do you miss Inga?” He yipped at me and dropped at my feet. “It must be me,” I murmured as I began to brush my teeth.
At bedtime, I climbed into bed after placing a nice soft quilt on the floor for Yummy. He whined and yipped until I placed the quilt on the bottom of the bed and set him on it. Before I could turn off the lamp and lay my head on the pillow, Yummy was curled up in the middle of it. I moved him gently and tried to get a spot on the pillow before he claimed his spot again. We fidgeted, and I pushed him a bit and we both finally had a spot on the pillow and I fell asleep.
#######
I woke to wild yips, barking, and a knocking coming from downstairs. I threw on my robe and rushed downstairs to find Aunt Irene knocking at the patio door and Yummy acting as if he was having some sort of breakdown. Aunt Irene’s eyes were big as she pointed at Yummy through the patio door. Yummy was running in circles favoring his right paw and yipping. I opened the patio door. Aunt Irene walked in, picked Yummy up, and he immediately settled into her arms.
“What are you doing with Yummy?” She asked squinting at me.
“It’s a long story. Would you like some breakfast? She nodded and walked out the door and placed Yummy in the puppy run.
She walked back in the house and said, “I think he hurt his leg. He’s limping a bit. I checked it. It’s not broken. Why is he here?” She sat at the kitchen table while I started the coffee maker.
I sat with her and explained how I became Yummy’s owner and my guess that his paw hurts because he must have jumped off my bed when he heard her knock at my door.
“I think I’ll have to get a box for him to use as a step because he refuses to sleep anywhere except my pillow.” I rubbed my forehead with my fingertips.
Aunt Irene laughed. “He always slept with Inga, too. He must be used to it.”
“Well, I’m not. I haven’t slept in a bed with anyone except Laci on a bad stormy night for years. I might roll over and squash him. Coffee’s ready,” I said standing and grabbing two mugs off the mug rack. Filling them, I set them back down on the table.
Aunt Irene laughed again. “Do you have any of those waffles left from last week? I knew you were going to freeze some of them. I’d love one or two with strawberry preserves. I have some preserves at home if you’re out.” She picked up her mug with two hands and took a sip of black coffee.
“I have some waffles left. Let me heat them in the oven so they stay crisp.” I turned the oven on and sat back down.
Aunt Irene looked at me and said, “Inga’s final wishes do not include a funeral. She’s going to be cremated without any service, and the funeral home is going to take care of having her ashes scattered. She and Rupert owned quite a bit of land up north, and that is where her ashes will be scattered. The church quilting club is going to hold a memorial luncheon after a proper amount of time.”
I pulled the waffles out of the oven and placed two on a plate for Aunt Irene and two for myself. Setting a jar of strawberry preserves and a long handled spoon to scoop out the preserves on the table, we dug into our breakfast. When we finished, Aunt Irene walked outside and talked to Yummy. I filled his food and water bowls before I brought him back inside. He stopped limping, but I decided to check work for a box anyway. Aunt Irene waved as she made her way back to her cottage. I watched her feeling happy she lived close. I missed Laci and my parents. Having a family member close was heartwarming.
Chapter Six
The rest of the week dragged by slower than melting snow in January. I had the usual amount of customers and gossipers, but my mind was on Saturday night’s dinner. Georgie stopped by after lunch on Saturday. She walked in and turned the sign on my front door to “closed.”
“What in the world are you doing? It isn’t even two o’clock.” I said as I tried to get past her to turn the sign back.
She grabbed my arm. “Wait, I have a question.”
“What? I could lose a customer.” I tried to pull my arm back, but she had her fingers wrapped in my sweater.
She let go and crossed her arms. “Annie Ryan when is the last time you went out to dinner?”
“Last Sunday I took Aunt Irene to brunch at McNally’s after church.” I scrunched my eyebrows and asked, “Why?”
Georgie rolled her eyes, “Okay, when did you last go on a date?”
I twisted my lip and said, “College.”
She doubled over in laughter causing Yummy to bark and dance around her. I tried to explain there was a reason I haven’t been on a date, and she knew better than anyone why and she laughed harder.
Finally, she dropped into a chair to catch her breath and said, “Get your purse, we’re going shopping.”
“For what?” I shook my head and headed for the door again.
Georgie called after me. “You need something sexy for tonight and something made in this decade. When’s the last time you bought anything except jeans and sweaters or shorts and tanks?”
I stopped dead in
