While I waited on the toaster, I opened the cabinet to get out the peanut butter, then started pulling out cans and boxes of macaroni and cheese, and before I knew it, all the cabinets were completely empty and the counter and kitchen table were covered in food, dishes, glasses, and a whole host of other things.
I was deep in thought, trying to decide how I wanted to rearrange everything, when I heard a knock at the door.
“Rose, I’m here with dinner,” Neely Kate called out.
I walked over to the doorway, bracing my lower back with my hand. “Joe asked you to come.”
“He did,” she admitted as she walked through the living room toward me. She was wearing jeans and a pink shirt that gave her complexion a soft glow. Her long blonde hair was hanging loose in waves. “But to be fair, I’d planned on comin’ over to see you anyway. I figured I’d bring you something for dinner since Joe said you’d likely be eating peanut butter toast again.”
“Well, he’s wrong,” I said in mock indignation. “I put the bread in the toaster about a half hour ago, then completely forgot about it.”
“What have you been doin’?” she asked. “You been out with the horses again?” She made it to the edge of the kitchen and stopped in her tracks. For a moment I saw it from her eyes—it looked like a tag sale on someone’s front lawn. “What in the heck happened in here?”
“I’m nestin’,” I said, making a face, as though that said it all.
“Nestin’ or takin’ out your frustrations on your poor cupboards?”
I shrugged. “I’ve always thought the nestin’ thing was just somethin’ people said, but lately I’ve felt this overwhelmin’ urge to organize everything in this house.”
“Well, let me feed you, and then I’ll help you put it all back together.” Since the kitchen table was covered, and it was such a nice late April evening, we took the food out to the front porch.
I eased down into a chair, which took some doing these days, and Neely Kate handed me a Styrofoam container, her bright shiny engagement ring nearly blinding me. Jed had proposed to her only a few weeks ago, and she’d been on cloud nine ever since.
“I swear, that thing keeps getting’ shinier and shinier,” I said with a laugh.
She sat in her own chair and held her hand out in front of her, her eyes lighting up with pure joy. “I know, right?” Shaking her head, she said, “I still can’t believe he picked this out all by himself.”
“He knows you, Neely Kate. He loves you.” I wasn’t about to tell her that he’d asked for my input.
“I know,” she said softly. “I’m so lucky.”
Not for the first time, it occurred to me that we both had what the other wanted—Neely Kate desperately wanted a baby, and I wished I were in a loving, committed relationship.
“Have you guys picked a date yet?”
“No,” she said, opening her Styrofoam. “But it will likely be soon.” She shot me a grin. “After you have the baby, of course. I want you to be the maid of honor.”
Tears stung my eyes. “Of course. I’d be honored.”
“Good,” she said with a nod. “It’s settled. Now eat your dinner.”
Using my belly as a tabletop, I opened the container and moaned in happiness. “Merrilee’s meatloaf and mashed potatoes.”
“I figured this would be better than peanut butter toast.”
I was too busy eating to respond, which was probably all the response that was needed.
“I wasn’t lyin’ when I said I’d planned to drop in anyway,” she continued. “I wanted to see Ashley and Mikey. I miss them too.”
“Obviously Joe told you about the kids.”
“He did—and the fact you went to the hospital in false labor again.”
“The man can’t keep a secret to save his soul,” I grumbled, but I knew that wasn’t true. He’d kept plenty for me.
“He’s worried about you. The false labor. The kids. It’s a lot in one day.”
“I’m fine,” I pushed out with a sigh.
“You’re worried, and that’s okay. But how about we check up on the kids another way?”
“Investigating on our own? We haven’t investigated anything in months. Not since Kermit was arrested for his drunk and disorderly.” I cringed, because Kermit’s arrest was a sore subject.
To my surprise, Neely Kate didn’t rehash the circumstances of our PI mentor’s incarceration. She lifted one shoulder in a delicate shrug. “Just because Kermit got locked up in the slammer doesn’t mean we can’t do a little investigation of our own.”
“Technically, it does,” I countered. “Now that we’ve started our PI training, we’re only supposed to investigate under a licensed PI.”
She smirked. “You’re not gonna let that stop us, are you?”
Lifting my eyebrows, I gave her a pointed look. “When did we ever follow the rules?”
“True,” she said with the hint of a grin, although it quickly morphed into a look of irritation. “And it wasn’t just a drunk and disorderly. That man took a ten-foot rocket to the town square, strapped himself to it with a bungee cord, and attempted to light the fuse because he thought it would shoot him high enough into the air so he could take photos and prove that the Earth is flat. If he hadn’t fallen off and given himself a concussion on the sidewalk, he’d be six feet under.”
I pursed my lips. “His head didn’t land on the concrete. It landed on his sister’s DSLR camera. Probably didn’t help that she beat him with it once she realized it was broken.” I’d seen the whole thing from my office window, while Neely Kate had been working at the nursey.
“I still can’t believe I missed that.”
I shrugged. “I sent you video.”
“You should have gotten closer!” she protested. She obviously still hadn’t forgiven me for not capturing more details.
“He was sittin’ on a live rocket, Neely Kate! The thing was getting’ ready to go off!” And it would’ve—with Kermit or without him—if Carter Hale hadn’t come out of his office, tossed the contents of his soft drink can on the fuse, then handed Kermit a business card and told him to call him for representation after he was arrested.
She rolled her eyes. “Excuses.”
“So, about the investigation,” I said, hoping to change the subject, and not just because we’d discussed the Kermit situation at least ten times. I really liked the idea of being proactive instead of just sitting around and doing nothing. “Do you have anything in mind?”
“I do,” she said, sitting up, her eyes shining with excitement. “Let’s run by the daycare tomorrow and ask Portia when the kids got sick and when Mike thinks they’ll be back.”
My spirits lifted. “That’s actually a good idea.”
There was a chance the daycare director wouldn’t tell us because of Mike’s ban, but she’d been friendly to me during Violet’s illness. I suspected she’d understand my need to make sure they were okay.
Neely Kate beamed. “I have a few of them from time to time.”