She could already hear the dogs barking. Her
son had said he’d feed them and let them out for a wee. But they were likely
overdue. And sometimes he forgot; he had other duties. She clambered out and
went to the house to open the front door, leaving her purse on the passenger
seat. This time she was going to pay, by
gum!
“Tucker! Get
back here! Sister!” The dogs were even crazier than normal, but they weren’t
running in circles the way they usually did. They ran directly to the potting
shed down at the far corner of the yard, next to the Parsons Pink, budding
beautifully now and starting to bloom. Must be an animal there. Rat, most
likely. The island was getting overrun with the damn things since the Town
Council had decided against putting out poison the way she always had. The rich
people’s doggies might be imperiled. There were flattened rats on the roads
even in town. She shrugged and went inside to go to the little girls’ room and
change. After almost two days on the mainland of appointments and shopping, she
was sick to death of wearing hose.
As she finished changing into slacks and
reapplying her signature ruby lipstick, she could hear Bobby carrying in the
groceries. After an hour on the boat, she needed to get the cold stuff in the
fridge right away. As he pulled the van
around back to unload the mulch, Meredith started putting away what she thought
of as the pathetic food, in quality and quantity, that old people were supposed
to eat. Yogurt, chicken breasts, cereal that tasted like sawdust. Prunes, for goodness sake!
“What did the
doc say about your ticker?” Bobby asked, appearing at the back door.
“Sound as a
bell,” said Meredith.
“That’s good to
know,” said Bobby. “Because I think you ought to take a look at what’s behind
your tool shed.”
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