Another long pause.
“Agoat, Muffin.”
She doesn’t respond.
I lean back against the headboard and exhale. “George is a complete and total dick.”
That, she agrees with. A low growl rumbles in her chest.
“See? Finally, something we see eye to eye on.”
She sighs again and shifts closer.
And even though I won’t admit it—to her, or myself—I keep brushing long after I need to.
Chapter Seven
One guest house. One goat. One emotionally constipated lawyer. Let the games begin.
Poppy
It’s a perfect afternoon.
Sunny. Warm. Birds chirping. I stand just off the north lawn with my clipboard in one hand and a measuring tape in the other, trying to visualize where the ceremony arch will go—once we’ve confirmed it won’t topple downhill and take someone’s aunt with it.
Muffin snoozes nearby in a patch of sun, her thunder vest gone now, tongue lolling out like she’s been through some things.
She has. We both have.
I’m in the middle of taking notes about chair spacing when I hear the telltale slap of orthopedic sandals on flagstone.
“Thought I’d find you out here,” Nadine announces, as if she lives in a BBC murder mystery and I’m her prime suspect.
I turn to her. She’s holding a Tupperware container like a bribe and wearing a lemon-print visor that somehow makes her lookmorejudgmental than usual. The shirt is linen. The energy is hostile.
“Hi,” I say, cheerful and professional because I’ve planned enough weddings to know that small-town neighbors often wield more power than local officials. “What a gorgeous day.”
“Debatable,” she replies, already extending the container. “Lemon bars. Low-sugar. No gluten. Practically health food.”
I take them because I’ve been raised right and also because I’m not sure what happens if you say no to Nadine.
“Thank you.”
Muffin lifts her head, watches Nadine approach, then slowly stands and walks over to me.
Then—dramatic as a soap opera exit—she sits directly at my feet and leans her entire weight into my leg.
Nadine squints. “Interesting.”
“Is it?”
“She usually doesn’t pick sides until at least day four.”
“I didn’t realize there were sides.”
“There are always sides,” Nadine says with conviction. “And she’s not subtle.”
Muffin lets out a soft sigh and settles in.
