“Hedoesn’t haveall his legs,” his mother corrects.
“Momma, can we get a dog?”
The woman closes her eyes. “I don’t have enough hands to keep up with the three of you. How do you expect I’ll keep up with a dog too? Come on, Samuel, and tell the doggy goodbye.”
I’m prepared for young Samuel to throw a fit. But even though his chin sets at an obstinate angle, and his bottom lip quivers, he hugs Yard, kisses the dog right on the nose, and hands the tennis ball back to Maggie.
“Thanks for letting him play with your dog,” the woman says.
“My pleasure,” Maggie tells her and the three of us—four, if you include Yard—watch the trio head off across the grass.
After a bit, Luc glances at his watch. “We’d best be off if we wanna get you back home in time to drop this guy off before your shift.” He ruffles Yard’s ears.
“Mmm.” Maggie nods, pulling the leash from her back pocket. “All good things must come to an end, huh?”
In my experience, no truer words have ever been spoken.
“But it’s been a good day, boys,” she adds. “A very good day. Thank you both for everything. For coming to Aunt Bea’s tea and for this.” She tucks the big cigar box under her arm. “I’ll cherish it always.”
Luc and I hang back as she heads toward the parking lot and Smurf.
“Andthat’sa job well done.” Luc nods in her direction. “Put ’er there, man.”
I shake the hand he offers me. He’s so damned pleased with himself, with our eighteen-year-old selves. Then his eyes narrow and he gives my fingers a hard squeeze. “Now you wanna tell me why you offered to be a bachelor in Miss Bea’s auction? I understand if you’re aiming to get in good with her family. But the bachelors at that thing go for hundreds, sometimes thousands, of dollars. Maggie May can’t afford to bid on you. So what you’ve done is agree to go out with another woman.”
“Don’t worry.” I clap him on the shoulder. “It’s all part of my grand plan.”
“When you gonna fill me in on the scope of that thing? ’Cause I gotta admit, I’m not sure I’m on board.”
“Oh,” I assure him, “you will be.”
