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Annabelle
Tommy begged me to stop by Amelia’s on the way home from Nattie’s house today. He said we needed to buy Rocky cookies for when we see her tomorrow. This kid really thinks we’re going to visit his new puppy every day until Goober can come home to live with us.
God help me, it’s going to be a very long two months.
We manage to sneak in the door ten minutes before she’s ready to close.
“Tommy boy. How ya doing, kiddo?” She winks at him before turning to me. “And how are you feeling, little momma?” Her eyebrow quirks, and she looks at me like she wants to kill someone on my behalf.
I’m not entirely sure she wouldn’t.
Amelia hands Tommy a vanilla cupcake and a carton of chocolate milk. “Hey, Tommy, why don’t you go sit on the couch so Belle and I can catch up for a minute?”
He grabs the goodies and starts to walk away when I call after him, “What do you say?”
“Thank you, Amelia,” Tommy grumbles and then does as he was told.
“How you holding up, Belle? I saw the articles earlier. Those fucking assholes.” She turns back to the coffees. “I’m out of your pumpkin. Wanna try my new creation? I’m calling it ‘Christmas Cookie.’”
“Sure,” I say excitedly before adding, “but decaf, please.”
Amelia shakes her head. “I should have known when you asked for decaf last week.”
“Yeah, well—” I’m cut off by the sound of knocking. Amelia and I turn to see Leah knocking on the door. She doesn’t look quite as put together as usual. Her hair is up in a messy bun, and she’s wearing sweatpants and Uggs. Glad to know she doesn’t always look perfect.
“Sorry, we’re closed,” Amelia shouts through the door. Then looks back at me. “Ignore her.”
Leah knocks again but gives up after a minute and walks off in a huff.
“That girl is a hot mess. Do you know she lives across the street above the children’s boutique?” she asks as she hands me my dessert in a cup. It smells heavenly and is covered in whipped cream and red and green sprinkles and has a tiny candy cane sticking out of it. “I noticed her going up there last week and have paid closer attention since. She’s definitely living there.”
“It’s odd that she’s never mentioned it before.” I sip my coffee. “Wow, Amelia. This is delicious. Thank you.” I glance over, making sure Tommy’s okay. “Before I forget, can I get a box of dog cookies, please? Rocky had her babies today, so I think we’re going to be visiting her often.”
Amelia grabs a pink bakery box and starts filling it up. “Oh, yeah? Did he pick his puppy out?” She looks sweetly over at Tommy.
“He did. The runt of the litter. He’s the cutest little brown-and-white thing. And so tiny,” I tell her.
“Did he name it yet?” she asks as she tapes the box closed and hands it to me.
I add it to my Mary Poppins bag. “He did. Goober Hart will be joining our family in two months.” I smile, remembering it. “Nattie called the puppy a little goober when he tried to walk over his brothers and sisters to nurse, and that was it. Goober Hart was named. It was adorable. I started researching how to get him certified as a therapy dog for Tommy. I hope it works out.”
“So, are you okay? I mean, about the articles? Talk about an invasion of privacy.” She’s pissed for me, and I appreciate it.
“I’m fine. Does it suck? It sucks big old hairy balls. But there’s nothing we can do. Dec’s losing his mind over this. I swear, I’m more worried about him. Everybody around here forgets that I grew up in the world of professional ballet in New York City. I’ve grown up watching this happen to people I know and dealt with this to some degree myself already. You have to be willing to give up part of yourself and your privacy to dance at the level I did before coming home. It’s no different for Declan. He just refuses to give up his privacy. And I get it. But I don’t want him trying to protect us to screw with his career.”
Amelia walks around the counter with a big box of cupcakes. “You’re pretty level-headed for someone who’s supposed to be pregnant with alien quadruplets.”
“Shut up,” I tell her.
“Is it really twins?” She hands me the box.
“Yup. The Sinclair genes are strong.”
Her hard eyes soften. “Lucky kids.”
Group Text:
Brina:Belles, Tommy wants the runt, right?
