Death by Dissertation by Kelly Brakenhoff

Author:Kelly Brakenhoff [Brakenhoff, Kelly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Emerald Prairie Press
Published: 2019-04-21T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Two

Cassandra opened the fridge and surveyed the contents. A red-lidded Rubbermaid contained a few cups of leftover rice, the crisper drawers were full of fresh fruits and veggies. Sipping sparkling water, she thought stir fry sounded good for dinner when she was interrupted by two sharp knocks on the back door. Cassandra peeked out the kitchen window into the empty driveway. Confused, she walked down the steps and saw Meg’s hair through the window. She unlocked the door and Meg came in, already talking. “You forgot we were supposed to meet for supper, didn’t you?”

Cassandra squinted, “Why aren’t you already home? Supper . . . We just had lunch. And then I had a detour—” Cassandra stopped her excuse mid-sentence because she noticed Meg was staring at the top of her head.

Meg slowly reached up and removed a stiff clump of dried mud from Cassandra’s ponytail. “Tonight’s the Obstacle Course on the Quad. I work late, because some of the deaf students and staff are on teams. You promised we’d eat together before it starts. I stopped by the office, and you weren’t there so I came here. Why aren’t you ready . . . You’re not wearing that are you?”

Cassandra yanked the mud clot from Meg’s hand and stomped up to the kitchen where she threw it in the trash. Meg followed, clearly amused at this rare glimpse of Cassandra not perfectly dressed, made up, and put together. “I wasted my afternoon doing a stupid PR run to a smelly cattle farm because Dr. Nielson was gone. I totally embarrassed myself by falling into a puddle of a substance I couldn’t identify. But since there were giant cows all around, I can guess what it was.” Cassandra sniffed her shirt. “I desperately need a shower, but I’m hungry.”

“But—”

Cassandra’s hands went up to ward off whatever Meg said next. She whined, “I’m pau. Don’t want to go back over da kine. I ruined a suit, trashed a good pair of work heels, and my hip . . .”

She reached around her right hip and hiked up the bottom of her shorts revealing a red scratch larger than her palm and a light bruise. She gasped, “I thought it hurt! I don’t have time for this.” Her eyes went full-on stink eye. “Stop laughing.”

Meg couldn’t hold it in. She laughed out loud and protested, “I’m laughing WITH you. What’s your beef? It’s funny . . . Ok, the part where you ruined the clothes and got hurt isn’t funny. But the vision of you slipping into a muddy cow-pie part is hysterical.”

She growled. “Not laughing. Not funny. Not going.”

Meg countered. “Embarrassed, hungry, dirty and GOING. Look, it starts at seven. I have to get back over there for the opening rules and introductions.”

Meg pulled the fridge open and grabbed a bottle of Chardonnay out of the door. Stepping over to the cupboard, she found a wine glass and poured a generous measure into the glass. “Take this.”

Cassandra accepted the glass. Meg turned Cassandra around by her shoulders and gently nudged her towards the master bedroom.

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