AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Though, I wasn’t letting go of Tweety anytime soon. I loved her, and she needed me.
“How fast does that puppy go?” he asked.
“Speedometer says one-ninety,” Cap told him.
Scott whistled.
“Are they okay?” Louise’s voice sounded from somewhere amidst the jungle.
“Yeah, woman!” Scott called back. Then he shared, “Raye’s man has himself a Porsche!”
“What?” Louise shouted.
Scott twisted at the waist to holler toward the house, “Raye’s man owns a Porsche!”
“Some borsht?” she yelled back.
“Porsche!” Scott bellowed. “The car!”
Louise emerged from the foliage. “Oh my goodness!” She clapped her hands, eyes to Cap’s car. “Isn’t that pretty?” She looked to Cap and saw the whole extent of the pretty, I knew, because she stopped dead and her face went slack as she stared at him.
“I’d be jealous if I thought she had a chance in hell,” Scott shared with Cap, taking his hand and thwacking him on the shoulder, all man-to-man greeting. “Scott Nelson. That’s my wife, Louise.”
“Heya!” she called, shaking herself out of the Cap Stupor.
“Cap Jackson,” Cap introduced himself.
“Fucking hell,” Luna said, showing at our party. “That car isdope.”
“Come in, come in, I’ve got hummus,” Louise said, circling her arm to invite us inside at the same time turning and disappearing in the bush.
Cap claimed me with his arm around my shoulders again, and we followed them as I said low, “She always has hummus.”
“Are they vegan?” Cap asked.
“Vegetarian.”
“Got it.”
“Yo, dude,” Luna greeted him when we got to her.
“Hey, Luna,” Cap replied.
“Yo, Cleo,” Luna greeted Cleo.
Cleo turned her nose up at Luna and followed the scent of hummus.
We navigated the jungle only to enter a different kind of jungle.
Louise wasn’t a hoarder,exactly.
But she did decorate with a heavy, unbalanced hand that veered wildly between Native American, African, Southwestern, Cape Cod, Japanese, rustic, Wild West, mid-century modern, art deco, and protest sign.
Cap didn’t even look around in wonder (or horror). He strolled right in.
“Have a seat.” Louise gestured to their new vegan leather couch, ignoring her dogs, the dogs she was fostering, and Cleo sniffing each other then pouncing and rolling around in a massive, playful, canine wrestling match.
I didn’t know how many pups there were, there was too much fur flying and too many tails wagging to count, but at a guess, I’d say seven.
