Dammit, they’d talked about this after his last physical when his cholesterol count came back over two fifty. Toad’s Diner, the place that served triple-meat chili and chicken-fried everything, was off his diet permanently. Anna wanted to keep Kevin around for a long, long time. She loved her sexy, noncompliant beast.
Kevin wandered into the mudroom looking slightly shamefaced, holding a black leather loafer in one hand and shoe polish in the other. Tall, blond, broad shouldered, with Nordic heritage, he dominated any room he entered.
Anna’s heart gave a romantic lurch. Even after twelve years of marriage and two kids, he could still quicken her pulse. At the same time, she felt a twinge of loneliness, missing him already. God, she wished he had a job where he didn’t have to travel so much, but alas, it was the nature of his business. He followed the catastrophes.
Her husband believed in looking his best at disaster scenes. The other adjusters ribbed him for being a clothes horse, but Kevin felt that in times of crisis, people craved security and certainty. Wearing dress clothes and polished shoes was a small price to pay to instill confidence in his clients.
Happily, Anna ironed his shirts when she could simply have sent them to the dry cleaner. She enjoyed doing little things for him to show her love, plus it saved money when their budget was beyond tight.
“The stain is forever.” She sighed and tossed the shirt to the floor. “I’ll turn it into a cleaning rag. But could you do me a favor, big guy, and go easy on Toad’s? If you want chili, I can make some with tofu and kidney beans.”
He rolled his eyes, stuck out his tongue, made a “yuck” face, and held up three fingers in a Boy Scout salute. “No more Toad’s. I promise.”
“You were never a Boy Scout and I don’t trust you to stay away from chili.” She shook her head. “So I’m willing to compromise.”
He made happy grunting caveman noises and wriggled his eyebrows comically.
“Stay out of Toad’s and I’ll make turkey chili with extra chili powder and siracha to pump up the flavor. Deal?”
Kevin brightened. “Deal.”
Laughing, Anna shook a finger at him. “Don’t think this means regular meat munching.”
“Unless by ‘meat’ you mean—”
“Behave.” She blushed.
“Crack that whip. It’s part of my fantasies.”
“I’m serious, Kevin.”
Grinning, he leaned in for a kiss. She caught the scent of starch, shoe polish, and his basil shaving soap. The smell of her man getting ready for work.
“You know I love it when you get bossy.” He winked. “Hey, you wanna quickie?”
“Not bossy,” she corrected, sidestepping the hand he tried to slide around her waist and tapping his chest with her index finger. “Assertive. Your health is important to me, Viking.”
He dropped his hand and looked mildly disappointed. “Says the woman who never takes a spare second for herself. Seriously, ask your mom or mine to sit for the kids while you get a massage.”
Anna shrugged. “Who has the time?”
“Make the time.” He picked his shirt up off the floor. “Don’t worry about the stain. My tie will cover it. One less chore off your plate.”
She was about to protest, but her cell phone dinged with a text message.
Anna switched off the iron, wishing Kevin wouldn’t wear the shirt, stain and all, but she was too pressed for time to iron another one. Sometimes, she had to let things go. Not that she was happy about it.
Tugging the phone from the back pocket of her denim shorts, she read the text.
Mom: Don’t forget our hair appointment at 10.
As if she’d ever forgotten an appointment with her mother. One punch on the screen with her thumb: K.
Another text came through.
This one was a group text from Gia, her sister-in-law. Gia was heading up the church bake sale and Anna had promised to make specialty cupcakes for the vacation bible school fundraiser, but she hadn’t even started them yet.
Gia: Reminder. All baked goods should be at the rectory no later than 5 p.m. tonight. Our volunteers need time to arrange and price the items. Sale starts promptly at 8 tomorrow morning. Let me know ASAP if you can’t meet the deadline.
Cringing, Anna checked the time.
It was almost nine now. She had to get Kevin out the door, usher the kids to the car and drop them off at her mother-in-law Veronica’s house, pick up her mom, hit the salon at ten to spend three hours in the chair for highlights and a cut, grab a late lunch with her mother. Pick up the kids.
Hmm, that put her getting home around two thirty. Cutting it close, but she’d have just enough time to whip up some cupcakes, let them cool, and frost them by five. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.
Or you could just swing by your bakery and pick up three dozen. As tempting as that was, she’d promised specialty cupcakes and that was what she’d deliver.
“I’m gonna finish packing.” Kev kissed the top of her head, picked up his shoe and the polish, and sauntered down the hall.
She craned her neck, watching him walk away. Heavens, but the man still had a gorgeous ass, even eighteen years after he’d played running back for the Moonglow Dragons. Anna hugged herself. She was lucky, and she knew it. So damn lucky. Even if Kevin was on the road more than he was home, they had a strong marriage and she’d do everything in her power to keep it that way.
Family first. Always.
Another text came through.
Sighing, Anna checked her phone again.
Moonglow Hospital Robo-text: As someone in our database with a rare blood type, we urge you to donate to our semiannual blood drive. You are needed! The mobile van will set up at Moonglow Community College from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. Saturday June 12. Text STOP to unsubscribe.
Needed.
The magical word that galvanized Anna. She was two pints away from being Moonglow Cove’s top donor. Yes, yes. Give blood. She was on it and saved the date into her calendar. Okay now, where was she? Oh yes, get the kids loaded up and . . .
Ding.
A fourth text. Really? The morning was starting off with a bang.
This text from her bank telling her they had exactly $213.87 in their joint checking account. How had it gotten that low?
She bit her bottom lip, recalled a few extra expenses: the clogged bathroom drain requiring a plumber, the run to the minor emergency clinic with Logan that insurance hadn’t yet reimbursed, and the night out at Chez Jacques to celebrate Kevin’s thirty-sixth birthday. It was pricey, and they shouldn’t have done it, but as Kevin said, “Sometimes you just have to live large.”
Shit. She would have to juggle some things. Maybe get a cash advance on her credit card. Not bright, Anna, not bright.
Maybe not, but Kevin didn’t get a check for another week and she’d invested last month’s bakery profits in new signage. Temporary cash flow problems. That’s all this was. True enough, but juggling bills to rob Peter to pay Paul was happening more and more often. Time for a serious budget adjustment.
You could skip the hair appointment.
She fingered her overgrown mop of unruly red hair, looped a strand around her finger, and stared at the split ends. Mom was looking forward to their salon time together. Maybe she could barter with her stylist. Haircut in exchange for a month’s worth of free baked goods? Her stylist did love her Italian bread with olives and sun-dried tomatoes.