topic of conversation at every dinner table in town.” In as few words as possible, she related the still-embarrassing incident.
“Well!” Estelle exclaimed. “That certainly explains that grocery delivery. And that hundred dollar bouquet of flowers sitting over there.”
They all looked at the vase of flowers on the dining room sideboard, where Estelle had placed it. “So we can enjoy these lovely flowers while we eat,” she had said.
Estelle cocked her left eyebrow and met her husband’s curious eyes. “Delivered by Reed himself, in case you’re wondering.”
Val felt resentment for the man again churning her insides. “I don’t even like cut flowers in the house.”
“Oh, you do, too,” Estelle declared. “Jinni always had a vase of flowers in your room when you were feeling ill, and you loved looking at them. You said you did, anyway.”
Val heaved a sigh. “Okay, fine, I do like flowers in the house, but I don’t like Reed Kingsley’s flowers.”
“Now, that makes sense,” Estelle said dryly. “Should I throw them out?”
“I’ll do that myself. Let’s talk about something else. Jim, I think those pups might be full-blooded Labs.”
“Well, the mother sure is. Why in heck someone would desert a nice dog like her sure beats me.”
The female Labrador had been hanging around the Animal Hospital for several days before Jim brought her inside. He’d been putting food out for her because she obviously had no home.
Val had then examined her and told Jim to put her in the Dog House to await the birth of her pups—the large area designed and constructed for the care and kenneling of dogs. The Animal Hospital also had a Cat House. That name often tickled Jim’s funny bone, which it had done to Val, too, when she’d thought it up and had signs made for both of the kennel areas.
They all chatted about the animals presently under Val’s care until the end of the meal. Jim and Estelle had a slice of cake with a dollop of whipped cream on it, but Val just sipped her tea and waited for them to finish.
“I’ll take care of the dishes,” she told Estelle. “You did enough today.”
“Well…the pans I used are already washed and put away. I suppose putting the dishes into the dishwasher wouldn’t be too strenuous for you. All right, we’ll go on home. Come on, Jim, I’m just about ready for bed.”
Val rose from her chair. “You worked hard all day. You always do much more than I pay you to do, Estelle.”
The older woman waved her hand. “We’ll have none of that now. I know my limits and I rarely overdo.”
“This house was never kept as clean as it’s been since you took over,” Val said.
“Well, I do like things clean and smelling good.”
Val followed Estelle and Jim around until they had collected their things and left through the back door. Immediately Val felt the silence of the house, but she didn’t mind it. Sometimes she liked being alone, which had a lot to do with why she had bought her cabin in the mountains. Whenever she felt crushed under the weight of old memories or current problems, she drove the eighty miles to the cabin and absorbed the peace and quiet for a weekend.
She’d been thinking a lot about her rustic cabin lately, and she considered going to the mountains this coming weekend. She was well enough now to make the drive, wasn’t she? If only those darn weak spells would stop. She’d discussed them with her doctor, and he’d told her they were normal and would gradually subside.
Okay, she decided, I’ll go to the cabin this weekend if there are no more spells this week. If there are, then maybe I’ll put it off for another week.
Val was in the kitchen, wiping down the counters and the front of the appliances, when something on the floor caught her eye. It was small and white and lying under the edge of a cabinet. Estelle had obviously missed seeing it or it wouldn’t be there. Val bent over and picked it up. It was a small envelope with a Jilly’s Lilies logo in the upper left corner, and it was sealed.
Obviously it had come with the flowers and fallen to the floor before Estelle had seen it. Frowning, because it of course contained a message from Reed Kingsley, Val thought about tossing it in the trash without opening it.
She couldn’t quite do that, and grimacing over what could only be described as plain nosiness, she slit the tiny envelope open with a knife and extracted the card. Embossed at the very top of it were two words: Sweet Talk.
Val moved to a chair and sank down on it. Sweet Talk. For God’s sake, why would Reed Kingsley pick out a card with that heading? Below it, of course, was some handwriting—his, obviously.
Val, I can sweet-talk with the best of them but, strangely, not with you. Still, I keep wishing you’d give me the chance to try sometime. Anytime. Forgive my transgressions, if you can, and let yourself see the real me. Reed K.
Groaning, Val put her arms on the table and her head on them. He wanted to “sweet-talk” her? Why? Damn it, why?
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