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Rhett drove to his house, parked, and ran inside. The wind picked up, and the temperature dropped. Damn. He needed to talk to Cin, but it wouldn’t be soon. After removing his cellphone from his coat, he hung his coat and hat on the pegs, strode to the living room, sat, and called her. His stomach was in knots as he listened to it ring.
“Rhett?”
“Cin, I wanted to talk to you about this, but the weather is too bad to get back there.”
“There’s nothing more to say.”
“There is a hell of a lot to say, and I don’t want to do this over the phone. We need to talk.”
“Rhett—”
“Cin, you need to listen to me. I love you. It doesn’t matter to me about adopting, but I won’t talk about it over the phone,” he repeated.
“Rhett, I’ve said all I need to—”
“Well, I haven’t,” he snapped. “You’re being unfair. You’re making my decision for me. You had your say, and I want mine. How is that even close to being right? You didn’t give me much of a chance, Lucinda.”
“I don’t know, Rhett.”
“I do. Please, let’s talk about this before you decide to kick me to the curb.”
“All right. We will talk once we can get together. I have to go. Tigger is waiting for his food.”
“All right, Cin. Hopefully, I’ll talk to you soon.” He disconnected and placed the phone on the arm of the recliner. At least she agreed to talk.
****
Lucinda stared at the phone. She wanted to be with him, but if he changed his mind, she’d crawl into a hole and never come out. She knew she had to listen to him. It was only fair to hear his side.
But why bother being with her at all? She frowned as she sat up. If he wasn’t happy with her being unable to have kids, why keep coming around? He continued to see her. As Erin said, he took her home to meet his parents, and he met her mother.
She didn’t open on Monday since the roads were terrible, and no one was going anywhere. She fed and watered the dogs, letting them run for a while. The snow was still falling, but they needed to do their business. She’d let them in for the night later.
Once inside the house, she made herself a hot cup of tea and walked to the living room with Tigger.
As she sat on the sofa, her cellphone buzzed. She picked it up and saw an unknown number, but it could be a client or customer, so she always answered.
“Hello?”
“Lucinda?”
“Yes, who is this?”
“Heidi.”
“Heidi? Oh, my God. How are you?”
“I’m wonderful. You?”
“I’m okay.”
“It doesn’t sound like it. I know you, Lucinda, and something’s wrong.”
“What made you call me?” Lucinda was suspicious, if nothing else.
“Do you remember Linda Collinsworth?”
