Stayin' Alive by Julie Mulhern

Author:Julie Mulhern [Mulhern, Julie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: J&M Press
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

AGGIE MADE QUICHE FOR DINNER, but only Grace and I were there to eat it. Aunt Sis called at the last moment and said she’d dine with Gordon. When she said his name, her voice softened. Aunt Sis was in love.

After dinner, Grace, Max, and I sat in the family room. Grace turned on Tony Orlando and Dawn, Max settled onto his dog bed, and I picked up the Agatha Christie I was supposed to read for book club.

“I wonder whose dog destroyed the annuals,” Grace mused.

“Grrr.” That dog better not come back.

“Everything’s been replaced. At least the neighbors realize Max is innocent.” Despite a few post-tackle aches, more than one shudder-inducing memory, and the need for a new couch, I’d had worse nights.

Max sighed and grumbled. If only I’d let him out, last night’s flowerbed debacle might have been avoided.

I looked up from my book. Tony Orlando wore a white suit, a black bowtie, and a mustache bushy enough to hide small animals. The two women—Dawn—wore white gowns and silver ponchos. The ponchos glittered brighter than a mirror ball, and marabou feathers edged the hems. “I miss Sonny and Cher.”

Grace, who idly flipped through a copy of Vogue with a surprisingly matronly-looking Rene Russo on the cover (the headlines promised fashion, beauty, and health—no surprise), glanced at the television. “Sonny has a better mustache.”

“I never thought about that.”

“And Cher’s clothes were cooler.” Having passed judgment, she turned a page in her magazine.

I yawned. “Would you mind if I head upstairs? I’m exhausted.”

“Course not. See you in the morning.”

I slipped a bookmark in the Agatha Christie, hauled myself off the couch, and dropped a kiss on the top of Grace’s head. “Please let Max out before you go to bed.”

“Sure thing, Mom.”

I climbed the stairs and slipped between the covers.

Grrr.

I glanced at the clock—a few minutes after midnight. I’d been asleep for hours.

Grrr. Max propped himself on the windowsill and his growl deepened.

“Seriously? Again?” I threw off the covers and joined him at the window.

The Labrador had returned and he dug with enthusiasm.

“Stay here.”

Max glanced at me. Are you kidding? Remember last night?

I pulled on a robe and jammed my feet into slippers. “I’ll take a biscuit.”

Max’s amber gaze narrowed. One of my biscuits?

Ignoring Max’s betrayed expression, I slipped into the hallway and closed the bedroom door behind me.

Woof.

I hurried downstairs to the kitchen and put three dog biscuits in my pocket. An idea struck me, and I cut a sliver of Aggie’s quiche before I grabbed Max’s leash.

Outside, the night was soft as indigo velvet, and I paused and breathed in a lungful of mild air before walking down the driveway.

The Labrador pranced when he saw me. Last night was fun. Were we playing again?

“Hi, there,” I cooed. “I have a treat for you.”

The Labrador wagged its tail and focused on the quiche on my palm.

“Aggie made it. It’s delicious. There’s bacon.”

The tail wagged faster.

I ignored the appalled weight of Max’s stare from my bedroom window and stepped closer to the dog.

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