Page 74 of Wine & Dine

“I thought I’d take Wally for a walk. I don’t want him to be a burden to you.”

She nods and pushes a section of hair behind her ear. “You know I don’t mind him.” I hear the scrape of his nails on the paper covering the entry hall floor, and then I see my chocolate-colored dog. He saunters up to me, and I squat to give him a good rub behind the ears. I focus on him, uncertain of what to say next. Tension slowly fills the breakfast nook.

“I couldn’t get a meeting with Griffin until tomorrow morning.” Denton addresses his sister, frustration ringing in his voice. “I swear these small-town workers hardly work.”

“I said I’d handle it,” Dolores snips at her brother, still keeping up her guard with him.

“I know, but I wanted to follow through on one last thing.” His voice rings with hurt and apology. I imagine Dolores has heard I’m sorry too often in the past twenty-four hours.

“Yeah, well, they better get to work. I need a diner back in business by Christmas,” Dolores snaps. That’s in two weeks. Her demands might be a bit unreasonable, but when I look up at her, I see she’s all business. She means it. She needs a Christmas miracle.

Slowly, I stand, reminding everyone I’m in the room. “I guess I’ll just get Wally’s leash,” I say, although I have no idea where the item is. Dolores tips her head for me to follow her. She’s wearing a pair of her skinny jeans and thick socks, but she’s back to an oversized sweatshirt. She rubs at her arms as she crosses through the kitchen and enters the hallway. Pausing at the bottom of the grand staircase, she spins to face me, and I brace myself for the wrath I saw her throw at her brother. Instead, her eyes soften.

“I could come with you. To walk Wally,” she offers, and a pinch of hope spikes inside my chest.

“I’d like that.”

“Be right down,” she says, turning and racing up the staircase to a landing. I watch her backside as she jogs the steps, and when she spins for the second set of stairs, she catches me. “Were you checking out my ass?”

“I wouldn’t dream of looking anywhere else.”

“You’re unbelievable.” She huffs a chuckle as she disappears up the second stairwell before I can respond.

“Too bad I want you to believe me,” I mutter as I wait.

“You break her heart, and I’ll kill you.” The threat comes from a little old lady I didn’t hear approaching even though she uses a cane to stand inside the kitchen.

“If I hurt her, I give you permission to give it your best shot.”

“I own a 1965 Remington .22 I keep in good condition, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

Yikes. Although, if I recall my first experience shooting a gun with my granddad, a .22 isn’t going to take down a human, but her point is made.

“Understood,” I say, rolling my lips to prevent a chuckle and give her a humble nod.

“Don’t be trying to use your good looks on me, young man. I’ve got Denton and Tommy Carrigan as grandsons. Pretty eyes and a sly smile don’t work on me.”

I bite my lip, trying not to laugh. This woman has spunk, and I know exactly where Dolores gets hers from.

“No, ma’am,” I say, attempting to act more contrite. Dolores returns down the stairs with a beanie cap on her head and a long puffy jacket with a thick furry collar on the hood. She’s the vision of a snow bunny, and I want to hunt her down.

“I just need boots.” She nods toward the kitchen, and I follow again. There’s a mudroom off the side of the kitchen and a second staircase leading a few steps down to an exterior door. Dolores slips into a pair of snow boots with fur matching her collar and leads me out the back of the house. She calls for Wally, and the traitor that my dog has turned comes at the command of her voice. He’s a Californian through and through, though, and doesn’t know how to respond to the snow under the pads of his feet.

“You baby.” She insults Wally like she does with that exaggerated tone, and he looks up at her with all the trust in the world. She pulls a tennis ball from her pocket—a fresh one—and tosses it out toward the field. We follow Wally as he races for the object. After several long minutes of only the snow crunching under our feet and Wally’s grunts, I speak.

“It’s so quiet here. Peaceful.” The silence is eerie but also refreshing, completely the opposite of the constant noise of LA. It reminds me a little bit of the area around River City. The wind whistles, and the cold stings, but if this is the only way to be near Dolores, I’ll take it.

Dolores looks up, squinting into the cloudy day as she watches Wally run. “I never thought I’d leave here. Never considered whether I wanted to or not. I had the diner and my grandmother and my mother. It was enough.

“I’d never been to California. I didn’t hate it, but I knew I’d never make it my permanent residence. I was restless there, though I enjoyed my visit.” She glances at me while we walk next to one another, each of us with our hands buried in our coat pockets. I don’t look over at her but forward at Wally, feeling like a teenager on the verge of a breakup. You know it’s going to happen before it happens, yet you’re still blindsided by it. Then again, I was more often the one to do the breaking up until Kate.

“I need to be here, Garrett. I need to fix this.”

I understand. I do. Her brother has made a mess of things.

“Can we back up a bit?” I question, my heart racing as I need some answers. “Can you tell me why you ran off without telling me?”

She takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry about that. I am. Ingrid was telling me how she thought you and Alicia would make a nice couple, and Alicia had just called me a special project. And then Ingrid mentioned how at one point she wanted to be with you. And you were dancing with Alicia like you’d done it a hundred times before.” She pauses. “You didn’t have to lie about the tango lessons.”