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He’s spinning around with his dick and his Glock out. “There’s a whole goddamn pervy flock out here. Get the shit out of here, you assholes.”

“They eat the weeds between the rows of vines.”

“How fucking lazy are the Langerfords that they get wild animals to do their gardening work?” I laugh at him again. “Red. You better stop chuckling or your backside will be as red as your hair.”

“It’s organic, biodynamic farming. It’s not like panthers are doing the weeding.”

“I don’t care what the shit it is, get rid of the fucking petting zoo before they try to weed my dick.”

I slip his huge jacket around my naked body and walk over to them, holding it shut with one arm. I push one in a different direction and it meanders off and the others follow. I try to hide my reaction to him but I can’t as a giggle escapes.

He tromps over to me with just his pants on and swings me into his arms. His voice is loud and commanding. “Ok. Settle down now. I don’t like the wilderness.”

“Hardly wilderness. We’re in a vineyard. A five-minute walk from everyone I know. Keep it down.”

He kisses my forehead and says, “That’s not what you were saying when you were coming. You got a set a of lungs on you, wife.”

My lips curl up and I sigh. “Wife.” He takes one of my hands and wraps his other around my waist. Mine goes to his shoulder. We dance in the moonlight and I’m not sure I’ve ever been happier.

His voice is pure, deep, and melodic. “Someday, when I’m awfully low…”

Chapter

Twelve

Poppy -

Day 29 (PS)

I twist the gold band on my finger and transfer it to my right hand again. I’ve only worn it on my left since he died. All the money is officially mine as of today. No more lawyers or escrow. Also, whatever else is in the will is mine too. But almost like picking through your dead spouse’s belongings, I don’t have the stomach for it yet. Someday, I’ll read through it and figure out what to do with it all.

I roll the windows down as I head to San Francisco to withdraw more cash than any smart person should. I’m tired of being a smart person.

Chapter

Thirteen

Poppy

Day 30 (PS)

I pull the door closed on the dark café. I smile at Jeffery and hand a large envelope to my beloved sous chef and bodyguard for the last five years.

“Mr. Sal wouldn’t want you wandering about.” He’s such a good man. When he got out of prison, Sal sent him to culinary school then dispatched him to my kitchen giving him a different life.

“Not even a tracker will find me. Go cook and be happy. Get away from all of this. I’m ok. Thank you. Give everyone that.” I nod to the envelope. It’s stuffed with smaller envelopes, labeled for each member of my staff. Then I hand him a second one. “And this one is for you.” I hug him. He glances in the envelope and his eyes bug out a bit.

It’s his annual salary and estimated tips for a year. In cash. And every envelope holds the same for each employee.

Chapter

Fourteen

Poppy

Day 31 (PS)

I’m done dreaming of him. Waking up is cruel. I sleep in spurts. No more remembering things that shred my soul.