Daydream Retriever (An Alpine Grove Romantic Comedy Book 10) Page 16

  “He’s enjoying a nap at the moment.” Lisa smiled politely at the woman with Kat, who threw a Twinkie into Kat’s cart so forcefully that it bounced over a box of wine.

  Kat gestured toward the other woman, who was wearing a skin-tight dress that was almost the same shade of pink as the curtains in the kitchen back at the house.

  Kat said, “Lisa, I’m not sure you’ve met officially, but this is my friend Maria.”

  Maria flipped her long curly hair over her shoulder and put out her hand. “You were at the Soloan, weren’t you? Kat is trying to get me to adopt the cat your dog found in the woods.”

  “I forgot Harley did that,” Lisa said. “Is the cat okay?”

  Kat said, “The vet says he’s fine. We named him Quincy. Currently, he has broken out of his confinement in my bathroom and is probably fighting with my cat Tripod for space under my bed.”

  “She’s just cranky because the cat is putting a crimp in her love life,” Maria said.

  Kat glared at Maria. “My love life is not the issue here. The problem is that Quincy and Tripod hate each other quite passionately and loudly. When I added Murphee into the feline mix at my house it was difficult, but that was nothing by comparison. These two cats want to kill each other. You, on the other hand, only have one cat. I think Scarlett needs a friend.”

  “She certainly doesn’t need a male friend. If I can’t have a boyfriend, neither can she.”

  “Larry wants to be your boyfriend,” Kat said.

  Maria put her hand on her hip. “You know that’s not happening.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Lisa said.

  “See what I mean! She should know.” Maria said, pointing at Lisa.

  Kat rested her arms on the cart. “I have to get back to work. Do you have what you need?”

  “We can’t go yet. I still need to get the party supplies we talked about,” Maria said.

  Kat said, “They don’t sell that kind of thing here and I’m vetoing it anyway.”

  Maria turned to Lisa. “Do you want to come to Kat’s party? It’s going to be a huge blowout. I haven’t been able to plan an event since I quit my last job and I’m going to pull out all the stops.”

  Lisa wasn’t sure if she should say yes. “I, well, appreciate the invitation, but I’m not sure…”

  Kat looked up. “You’re more than welcome to come, although it might be a little, uh, I don’t know how to put it…”

  “The word you seek is outstanding!” Maria gave Lisa a knowing look. “Kat is a recluse, and if it weren’t for me, I don’t think she’d ever leave the house. Half the women in Alpine Grove are going to be there. I’m putting all my party-planning prowess into action and it’s going to be incredible. You don’t want to miss it.”

  Lisa said, “When is the event?”

  “Saturday, February twenty-second, at the Enchanted Moose. We’re booking a room in the convention area because I need space to do what I want to do. And it gives Kat a month to recover before the wedding.”

  “It may take that long,” Kat said, leaning more heavily on her cart.

  Maria widened her eyes at Lisa. “So are you in? Shall I add you to the invitation list?”

  “Thank you. That sounds nice,” Lisa said. “I should still be here in town then, unless an offer for my parents’ house magically falls out of the sky.”

  “I’ll provide the details on the invitation. In the meantime, start thinking about your costume,” Maria said.

  “Costume?” Lisa said.

  Kat dropped her head onto her hands on the cart and groaned, “Nooo.”

  “I’ve been thinking about a sci-fi and fantasy theme. Robots, spaceships, aliens, and maybe a few elves and dwarves too,” Maria said. “I looked at some book covers and some of those Viking ladies really know how to work a suit of armor. I could look seriously hot in one of those outfits.”

  Kat stood up straight. “No! There is absolutely no way I am dressing like some axe-wielding woman on a sexist Frazetta poster that you’d find hanging in some horny teenager’s room. Absolutely no way.”

  Maria whispered to Lisa, “We’re still fine-tuning a few little party details.”

  “I said no costumes and I mean it!” Kat said.

  Lisa said, “I should get back to Harley. It was nice to see you. Good luck with the party planning.”

  “Did you leave Harley alone?” Kat asked. “Does that mean he’s over his separation anxiety?”

  “No, I left him at home with Pete. They are best buddies now. It’s really sweet,” Lisa said.

  Maria pulled a can of cranberry sauce off the shelf and threw it into the cart. “Waitaminute. Who is Pete?”

  Kat put the cranberry sauce back on the shelf. “He’s the guy Harley rescued at Snow Grove.”

  “And this guy Pete is living with you?” Maria threw her arms in the air in a gesture of exasperation. “How long have you been in Alpine Grove? Two weeks? And you boarded your dog with Kat, right? I don’t believe it. This has to be some type of new record.”

  Lisa shook her head. “I’m not sure what you mean. Pete is renting a room from me while he recovers from his knee surgery.”

  Maria shook her head and turned around, mumbling something that sounded like unbelievable, but with a few extra syllables added.

  Kat smiled as Maria walked down the aisle away from them. “Don’t worry about her. I’m glad Harley and Pete are doing okay.”

  “I guess I’ll see you at the party.”

  “If you can find a way to get me out of it, I’d be grateful.”

  Lisa laughed. “Sorry, but as the guest of honor, I think you’re on your own.”

  Lisa returned to the house, where rolls of old carpet were sitting in the snow in the front yard. The flooring-removal program was obviously proceeding and the ugly wall-to-wall was being ripped out of the upstairs bedrooms.

  She grabbed a few grocery bags and went up the walkway to the house. She opened the door and was greeted by ferocious barking as Harley came around the corner and skidded to a stop in front of her, wagging happily. She lifted the bags away from his nose as she went toward the kitchen. “Sorry, not for you.”

  In the kitchen, Pete was sitting at the table with two of the workmen. They all looked up at her and Pete raised his beer bottle toward her in greeting. It was suspiciously quiet in the house, and she narrowed her eyes at the group. “Where’s Craig?”

  “He had to go home,” Pete said, then tipped the neck of his beer bottle toward the man next to him. “Luke had beer, and we all agreed that it must be happy hour somewhere.”

  Lisa tried to remember what the doctor had said about Pete’s pain killers in combination with alcohol. You weren’t supposed to mix them with alcohol, were you? Trying to rein in her irritation, she said evenly, “Luke, Rod, since you’re both able bodied, why don’t you help me bring in the rest of the groceries?”

  Pete said, “Harley, come!” and the dog trotted over to his side. Pete leaned over to praise Harley effusively for his incomparable brilliance while Lisa and the two men went outside to collect the food. After loading herself and the guys down with many bags, Lisa returned to the kitchen and placed her groceries on the counter. In less than a day, Pete had somehow managed to teach Harley to come when called. Sure, now the dog was finally obedient.

  After helping Lisa, Luke and Rod seemed to realize that their impromptu beer fiesta was over, so they quietly gathered their things and scuttled out of the house. Pete peeled a strip of the label off his beer bottle, curling it around his finger.

  Lisa continued putting away groceries in silence while Pete sipped his beer. The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced there was no way he should be drinking while he was on medication. What if he was an alcoholic? She’d never thought about that. What if he’d left the police force because he had some terrible drinking problem? Maybe that’s why his wife divorced him too. She was such an idiot, taking in a stranger she barely knew. Compassion was one thing. Being
completely stupid was another.

  From behind her, Pete said, “What are you upset about over there?”

  Lisa put a box of pasta into the pantry with a thump. “I’m not upset. I’m putting away food. What do you want for dinner?”

  “Nobody puts away food that loudly unless they’re pissed off about something. What is it?”

  “I’m not pissed off.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  Lisa turned around. “Okay, fine. I’m worried that you shouldn’t be drinking while you’re taking fistfuls of drugs every couple of hours.”

  “I was being social.”

  Lisa shook a can of beans at him. “But you shouldn’t be doing that. It’s bad for you. Didn’t you read all the warning stickers on those bottles of pills?”

  “Hey, I’m off the hard-core stuff and Luke offered me a beer. What was I going to say? No?”

  “Yes, of course you should have said no!”

  “I didn’t want to act like a jerk. I have to see these guys here every day.”

  “Well, they should be working, not drinking beer with you.” Lisa threw a bag of frozen corn into the freezer, where it landed with a thud. “Do they always do this when Craig leaves?”

  “How should I know?” Pete ruffled the fur on Harley’s neck. “I think you’re overreacting a little.”

  “No I’m not! It’s my house. And I don’t want to have to call nine one one because you’ve keeled over from a drug interaction the first day you’re here.”

  “That’s not going to happen, and it’s not what you’re really worried about, is it?”

  Lisa stashed the last of the vegetables in the crisper drawer and sat down at the table across from him. “I suppose not.”

  “What’s eating you?”

  “You’re not an alcoholic or addicted to something, are you? Because if you’ve got some huge problem I don’t know about, it would be good to find out about it now.”

  “I had two sips of beer, Lisa. I don’t think I need to enter a treatment facility yet. It’s fine.”

  Lisa placed her palms on the table and leaned forward. “I’m supposed to take care of you while you recover. I’m responsible for you.”

  “I’m responsible for me. You’re not my mother, and I promise I won’t die on your watch or even operate any heavy machinery.” He handed her the beer bottle. “You can have the rest. But if I decide I want to have a beer to improve interpersonal relations with the construction crew, you need to not lose your shirt about it.”

  “Lose my shirt? Are you saying I should strip? What are you talking about?”

  “Subtract a letter.”

  “Huh? Oh, all right. I get it. Very funny.” Lisa took a sip of the beer. “Yuck. This stuff is awful.”

  “I didn’t say it was good beer. You really should relax a little. What do you do for fun?”

  “Fun?”

  Pete twirled the bottle cap on the table. “Yes, fun. It’s that thing that sometimes happens when you’re having a good time.”

  “I don’t know. What do you do?”

  “Don’t you have hobbies?”

  “Not really. I’ve been too busy dealing with other things. Do you? How would you respond to that question?”

  “I’m working on it.”

  “What do you mean working on it?” Lisa put down the bottle. “Who works on fun?”

  “I do.” He pointed at her. “After I retired, I was just like you. I’d spent all my time working and I had no hobbies. I had absolutely no idea what to do with myself once I had no job. So I decided to work on having more fun.”

  “How?”

  “I tried new things to see where I might find some fun. You never know where fun might be lurking.”

  “What new things?”

  “Well, I got up to ‘s,’ which was skiing, and we all know how that turned out. It was fun at first, and then it wasn’t fun at all.”

  “What do you mean you got to ‘s’? Are you saying you alphabetized your fun?”

  “Sort of. Rather than agonize over figuring out what to do or prioritizing what to do first, I made a list of twenty-six things, starting with ‘a’ and going to ‘z.’”

  Lisa leaned forward and tilted the mouth of the beer bottle toward him. “Okay, now I’m dying of curiosity. What did you do for ‘a’? Become an acrobat? An astronaut?”

  “Do I look like an acrobat?”

  “No, but I can’t think of anything. Fly an airplane?”

  “I’m not that ambitious and it wasn’t a big deal. I took an art class, if you must know.”

  “Really?” Lisa took another sip of beer and set down the bottle. “So you’re an artist?”

  “Nope. I found out I’m even worse at painting than I am at skiing. I’m terrible, but the experience was still fun.”

  “I suppose taking an art class could be kind of fun.”

  He grinned as he balanced the bottle cap on his index finger. “Having fun doesn’t have to be hard. You should try it sometime.”

  “Maybe I will.” Lisa drank the last of the beer and stood up. “But first, it’s dinner time. I’m looking forward to cooking, so the letter ‘c’ is handled, at least for tonight.”

  “You’re going out of order.”

  “My liking the idea of cooking again benefits you.”

  “Good point. Only twenty-five more letters to go.”

  The next morning Lisa got up, let Harley out, and ate breakfast. No noise had come from her father’s office all morning and she was starting to wonder if Pete was okay in there. What if he had fallen out of bed or tripped? On the other hand, maybe he was a night owl who slept in late. How would she know? It was his first night at the house. So far all she knew was that he wasn’t a great artist and he liked spaghetti.

  Lisa couldn’t decide if she should interrupt his privacy or not. This situation was so strange. When her kids were growing up, she’d had no problem barging into any room at any time. It was her house and her kids. But roommate etiquette was more complicated than that and she wasn’t sure what to do.

  She looked over at Harley, who was slowly wandering around the kitchen with his nose to the floor, making sure no kibbles of dog food had magically leaped out of the cabinet while he wasn’t paying attention.

  Lisa looked up at the clock on the wall. The workmen were going to be arriving soon, so Pete was about to be forcibly awakened before too long. Maybe she’d check to see if he wanted some breakfast before the endless pounding on the ceiling began.

  She tapped lightly on the door and didn’t hear anything. Harley looked up at her and tilted his head. Turning the knob as quietly as possible, she opened the door and peeked inside the room. Harley shoved the door open with his nose and ran over to the bed. The curtains were shut so there wasn’t much light, but Pete was lying with his leg elevated on pillows. He reached down to pet Harley’s head. “Hey, you.”

  Lisa walked to the bed. “Are you feeling okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You don’t look okay.” She noted the dark circles under his eyes and the tightness of his jaw. There was no doubt he was in pain. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

  “Not really. Everything started to hurt.”

  “Didn’t you take your painkillers?”

  “Yeah, but my leg was stiff and achy. It felt like my knee was swelling up. Then I felt hot and sweaty, so I grabbed pillows from the couch and went to the bathroom to splash water on my face. I did the whole elevating-my-leg thing, but I couldn’t get comfortable. This brace is horrible.” He closed his eyes. “Doing anything is so complicated and takes forever.”

  Lisa reached over to place her palm on his forehead. “I don’t think you have a fever. That’s good.”

  He opened his eyes again and gazed at her intently. “Who put in all those handles?”

  “My dad. After my accident, he was desperate to do something to help. When you own a hardware store, you have access to a whole lot of handrails. My mom said he went overboard.
She was a little annoyed about how many he put in, but I thought it was sweet.”

  “I can’t tell you how much I want to take a real shower.”

  “When I was recuperating here, I used to love to sit in that shower for ages, letting the warm water run over me. I’ll dredge up the shower stool. I’m pretty sure it’s still in the garage.”

  He shut his eyes again and took a deep breath. “I’m never going to be able to run again, am I?”

  Lisa rearranged the pillows under his knee. “You need to ask your doctor about that. Everyone is different.”

  “I did a half marathon last year.”

  “Was that for ‘h’ or ‘m’ or something?” Lisa stroked the top of his foot gently. “I’m sure your feet will be back in running shoes before you know it. Or at least walking shoes.”

  “I’ve always been active, but now there are all these things I never even thought about before that are now a huge deal. Showering. Stairs. Pants. Scratching the itch on the bottom of my foot.” He gestured toward her. “You said you haven’t skied since your accident.”

  Lisa sat down on the edge of the bed and looked into Pete’s face. He really needed a shave. “That wasn’t because I couldn’t. It was because I didn’t want to.”

  “Why? All I can think about it all the things I might not ever be able to do again. Like never skiing again? That idea makes me so furious I can barely stand it. I want to punch that snowboarder who cut me off.”

  Lisa put her hand on his. “I understand how you feel.”

  “Last night, I was lying here staring at the ceiling getting more and more angry. It’s not fair.”

  She squeezed his hand and smiled. “I thought you were Mr. Meditation and all that.”

  “Sometimes it doesn’t work. I finally came to terms with having to retire by knowing that I could enjoy the rest of my life finding fun and interesting things to do.”

  “Why did you retire early if you didn’t want to?”

  “Medical reasons. I was shot during a drug bust. It’s a long story.” He moved his hand, indicating the hospital bed. “Suffice it to say, this isn’t my first contact with the medical community. My insurance paperwork could fill a room.”