Did he think she hadn’t noticed that? Most weeks, she was the only person who remained in the pew while the rest of the congregation filed up front to partake of the bread and cup. “You’re right,” she said, hoping to placate him and in that way, get him off the subject. “Most people do go to Communion.”
“I go, and you can just imagine all the sins I’ve committed.”
“I can,” she said dryly.
She’d stopped going, of course, when Ben and her daughter were killed. She’d talked to several priests since then, spent time on her knees. She’d gone to confession, prayed the Act of Contrition, done her Hail Marys. But none of it had helped her heart. She still felt too guilty and too wrong to partake of the elements, too angry at God for taking away her child.
“Is it anything to do with that stepdaughter of yours?” Kirk asked as they walked slowly toward Sunset Lane.
She frowned sideways at him and didn’t answer. He was too outspoken and too blustery, but he was also too astute. She didn’t want to talk to him about Imogene, but it was probably inevitable.
The sun peeked out through the clouds, making the day feel warmer. “Maybe it’ll turn into a nice day,” she said, trying to change the subject.
“Would you want to walk a little more?” he asked promptly.
Mary opened her mouth to turn him down, like she always did, but going home to her empty house didn’t hold a lot of appeal. “Okay, I guess.”
He put a hand on her lower back to guide her around the corner and toward downtown, but thankfully, after that he dropped it, and he didn’t try to hold her hand as he had several times in the past. They talked about the house she was buying, how the planned closing date was pretty close to the Christmas holiday, which wasn’t necessarily wise, but it was probably going to work out.
She really was grateful to have him on her side in this real estate transaction. His years of experience and persistent attitude were invaluable in getting the deal done. And she really, really wanted to get the deal done. Church and prayer hadn’t helped her guilt much, but doing things for other people did. If she could get the new project off the ground, she knew she’d be that much closer to making amends.
“Come this way,” Kirk said after they’d walked a block down Beach Street. He led the way down a short side street. Then they were at Goody’s house, which stood directly behind her restaurant, and he stopped. “I need to speak to Goody for a minute.”
“Do you want me to wait out here?”
“No. It’s too cold, and Goody won’t mind.”
As he hurried her up Goody’s front walkway, smiling a little, again with a hand on her back, suspicion rose in her. What did he have up his sleeve?
He knocked on Goody’s door, and there was the sound of Goody’s dog barking, and then Goody opened the door. She looked right past Mary to Kirk. “There’s only one left, and you’re not going to like her.”
The puppies! He’d brought her here to look at the puppies Ziggy had fathered. “Kirk!” Mary scolded. “You know I’m not interested in a puppy right now.”
“Oh, I know. But since we’re here, let’s just look.” Kirk said it like the salesman he was.
Maybe it was because they’d just come from church, or maybe it was her blue mood, but Mary couldn’t seem to muster the energy to fight off Kirk’s determination. They followed Goody into a back bedroom, where an area was penned off. A small, fluffy chocolate-and-white puppy sat alone in a corner of the pen.
“That’s what’s left?” Kirk frowned. “I was hoping for one of the white ones.”
“You and everyone else. Those two were snapped up right away. And then the spotted ones went, the ones with the cute black markings around their eyes.” Goody frowned at the remaining puppy.
Mary sat on the floor to see the little pup who huddled at the back of the pen, a pink collar identifying her as a female. Her face was chocolate colored with a white spot on one side. The rest of her body was white, except for a large brown spot toward her tail. Her uneven coloring, plus the way she cringed back from attention, made it clear why she hadn’t been a favorite of Goody’s puppy buyers.
“You can’t complain,” Kirk said to Goody. “Old Ziggy made you a lot of money in the end.”
“That’s true,” Goody admitted. “And they were nice pups, friendly as could be, most of them.” She reached down and lifted the chocolate-and-white pup out of the pen. As soon as she set it down on the floor, it darted away from her, right into Mary’s lap.
The dog would no doubt get huge, given the size of the father. Right now, though, she was almost exactly the size Baby had been.
“Cupcake is done,” Goody said. “She doesn’t want to nurse anymore. It’s ten weeks now and the others have all been sold, so she’s ignoring this little girl. If I can’t find someone to buy her soon, I may have to sell her to a pet store.”
“Oh, no.” Mary stroked the little dog. “She needs peace and quiet and love, not a bunch of loud people poking at her and knocking on glass to scare her.”
Goody shrugged. “You’re not wrong,” she said, “but I have a business to run. Honestly, I’ve had enough of puppies for now, too. I didn’t sign up for this.”
The little dog peered at Mary, and there seemed to be a plea in those brown eyes.
Mary looked up at Goody, then at Kirk, who had a hint of a smile on his face, the trickster. And then she ran a gentle hand over the puppy’s soft fur. “I’ll take her.”
PAUL ARRIVED HOME Sunday night feeling
