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“You were already stopped.”
“He has a point, Helen.” Genevieve offered the policeman her friendliest smile.
“You are stopped, and you don’t have your flashers on. That’s a moving violation, so I must write you a ticket. I’ll be right back.”
Helen opened her mouth to protest, and Genevieve elbowed her in the side to shut her up. “My hand, Helen,” she whined. Loudly. “I must get home. As soon as possible.” Sotto voce, she added, “Please let’s not make a trip to the ER and the jail on the same day.”
Helen punched the button to roll up the window against the night air and snapped, “A moving violation when we’re stopped? Isn’t it nice to know that Lake in the Clouds has our own Barney Fife?”
“This is why you keep me in your life. Hardly anyone else is old enough to know what the heck you’re talking about.”
“That’s not true. Your kids watchedMayberryreruns on TV while growing up.”
“They did not.” Genevieve waited a beat and added, “It was calledThe Andy Griffith Show.”
Helen wrinkled her nose toward her sister. “Well, everyone in my building knows who Barney Fife is.”
“You live at a retirement center.”
“A senior condominium community,” Helen corrected. “And Ralph is an idiot.”
“I won’t argue that. Get the ticket dismissed tomorrow. Take me home. I’m not kidding about my hand throbbing.”
Helen huffed. “The things I do for you.”
“I know. Love you, sister.”
“Love you, too. Hand me your phone, and I’ll retake that fuzzy picture.”
Clink. Clink. Clink.Helen rolled down the window and held out her palm to accept the ticket. “Oh, thank you, Ralph. You are such a—”
“Don’t say it,” Genevieve murmured. “Don’t say it.”
“Public servant. Good night.” She rolled the window up, flipped on her signal, and pulled out onto the street. “So, when is AJ due to arrive?”
“Sometime tomorrow afternoon. I told Willow I’d pick up the kids right after lunch and babysit until she was ready for them to meet.”
“Oh, Genevieve. Of course you did. Mom to the rescue.”
“That’s what I do, Helen. That’s what I do.”
Willow lifted her face to the hot water pelting her from the showerhead and smiled. The shower was invigorating. She felt rejuvenated and tingled from head to toe. When she realized she was singing, embarrassment washed through her.
The shower door opened, and Noah started to step inside, a gleam in his eyes and unmistakable proof of his intentions leading the way. Willow held up her hand, palm out. “Down, boy. There’s no more time for that.”
“But—”
“I told my babysitter I’d be home by eleven.”
“I can be quick,” he begged, wagging his brows.
“Snooze, you lose, handsome.” Grinning, she swatted him on his most fine ass and scooted past him out of the shower, grabbing a fluffy blue towel from the floating shelf to dry off.
By the time Noah showered, Willow had dressed and gone downstairs. She decided she wanted one more look at the puppies before she left, but as she walked toward the pen, she got distracted by the Victorian dollhouse. A faint smile hovered on her lips. The man certainly paid attention to detail.
She’d bet he’d made this for his niece, whether he’d admit to it or not. A pink-and-purple color scheme had preschool girl written all over it. Willow knew this for a fact. Weren’t pink and purple Emma’s favorite colors?
When Noah joined her, she was hunkered down before the puppy pen, scratching Marigold behind the ears. “Still trying to make a choice?”
