I don’t even bother pretending it’s a tough choice.
Home wins.
Grabbing my things, I head for the elevator.
On the way home, I stop at the store and pick up chicken bones and a six-pack of beer. I’m more of a wine girl, but right now a cold, hard beer sounds like heaven.
Once I’m home, I put on some music and rinse the bones before setting them to boil on the stove. I get the rice going next to it.
I know people like to add vitamins and supplements and all kinds of extras to homemade dog food, but I’ve found that basic chicken stock and rice with soft bones does just fine. Plus, I give them one of those giant chew bones every few weeks that supposedly has all the good stuff anyway.
Both dogs are healthy and happy. That’s what matters.
After giving them both plenty of attention and love, because I’ve been a terrible dog mom lately, I settle onto the sofa with a beer and spread the paperwork out around me.
I’m on my third beer by the time I finish everything.
After feeding the dogs, I let them out into the backyard and settle into the patio chair with a cup of decaf.
I must’ve dozed off watching Ty run after Bell when she steals his twisty rope. Because the next thing I know, someone is gently shaking my shoulder.
“Jess.”
I blink up at Logan.
“Hey,” I say, sitting up slowly. “When’d you get back?” My voice comes out scratchy and thick.
“We just got back.”
“Oh.” I glance toward the house automatically, like the boys might magically appear.
Logan must see me looking cause he says, “They fell asleep in the car. I put them to bed.”
“Oh.” My chest sinks a little. “I missed them.”
“You know you could’ve come if you wanted to see them,” he says.
I rub my eyes and stand, picking up my empty cup as I follow him inside. “I had work.”
“Yeah?” he replies dryly. “I saw the empty bottles.”
I stare at his tense back.
“Forgive me for doing something for myself,” I mutter.
He scoffs and starts turning off the lights as he moves through the house.
I’m not in the mood for food, so I don’t mention that I haven’t had dinner. Instead, I start locking up behind him.
“I’m just saying,” he adds, not looking at me, “Simone asked about you.”
That gets my attention.
“What’d she say?”
“She asked if you were coming.”
I huff softly. “I’m guessing she wasn’t exactly disappointed when I didn’t.”
