Page 22 of If You Like It, I Love It

11

Joni

Oliver is moving slow this morning. That makes two of us, but my problem is I’m having trouble staying focused. Not sure why Oliver’s not more excited. Getting ready to go is normally his favorite thing. His inner dog wakes up the moment he sees his trailer. He loves the ride, and he especially loves being unloaded to prance along the sidewalks of downtown Grinberry Falls.

He doesn’t seem interested this morning. He’s going through the motions, but he’s taking his sweet time.

When I open the trailer to let him out, he’s in better spirits. The second his hooves hit the pavement, he’s in his element, holding his head high and looking for anyone who might want to say hi and scratch his neck.

“Okay, buddy. You know the rules. Stay on the sidewalk, and no spitting unless some asshole really deserves it.”

They normally only spit at other alpacas, but Oliver might have more trouble than most discerning the difference between other alpacas and humans. I’m not sure he knows which one he is most days.

I walk toward Grin’s, and Oliver heads to the end of the street where he can start his window gazing at the nail salon and make his way down the block.

Sabrina and Glynnis are at the table waiting for me with mimosas and pastries from Trudy’s Diner.

“Are we celebrating something?” I ask.

Mav Grinberry never kept flutes or champagne at Grin’s before Sabrina entered his life, and they still look out of place in this rustic old bar, but so many things have changed in this town over the past few years. I honestly think Mav’s dad would’ve loved to have seen his daughter-in-law and her friends drinking champagne in his bar.

Mostly though, I think he would’ve loved seeing the effect she has on his son.

“You tell us,” Sabrina says, pulling the gooey center out of a cinnamon roll. “Is there something to celebrate?”

Glynnis lifts her mimosa. “Yeah, anything worth toasting?”

“Not in my world.” I take a seat and pinch a bite off a lemon-blueberry muffin. “My construction permit is still in limbo, the refinisher hasn’t even started on my island yet, and Oliver is acting stranger than usual.”

They exchange that best-friend look, that secret language they speak with their eyes.

I take a drink of my mimosa. “Okay, what’s going on?”

Sabrina twirls a section of her long brown hair as if she’s totally innocent.

Glynnis bounces on the edge of her seat, dying to tell me what they think they know.

“Soooo,” she begins as if this is going to be some hot gossip, and I shift in my seat because I’m already unsure if I really want to hear this. “Rhett was out and about early this morning because I’ve been going to the candlelight six a.m. hot yoga class at that new studio out by the freeway, and my battery was dead when I came out of class, so he had to come give me a jump. But he wasn’t even awake yet when I originally texted him, so I had to wait at the coffee shop for half an hour. I probably could’ve asked someone there for a jump, but I love that place, and I had my computer, so—”

“Is this side quest important to the main journey?” I ask. “Because if not, I need you to get back on track and tell me what any of this has to do with me.”

“Hmm, now I’m not sure what to think,” she says, raising her eyebrows when she looks at Sabrina.

“Yeah,” Sabrina says. “She’s pretty uptight, so maybe . . .”

She turns to me. “Did something break at your place this morning?”

“Somebody better tell me what the hell is going on before I flip this table.”

“Whew,” Glynnis says. “That redhead temper is agitated.”

“Maybe he’s not as good as he looks.” Sabrina shakes her head like she just heard the saddest story.

“Quit playing games and tell me what you’re talking about.” As if I couldn’t guess at this point. But they couldn’t possibly know. How?

Glynnis answers my unspoken question as if she’s reading my mind. “Rhett saw Enzo driving out of your gate this morning. Early. So, how about you tell us what we’re talking about?”

“There is nothing to talk about.”