Page 30 of Just One More Thing

She glances back over her shoulder, and for a second I think maybe she’s going to say something else. Instead, she points at Hank. “He’s… very handsome,” she says, like she’s talking about a movie star and not a bulldog with chronic gas.

I huff a laugh. “Don’t tell him that. He’s already hard to live with.”

Hank lifts his head at the sound of himself being discussed and smiles with all his bottom teeth.

Mo’s smile opens a little wider then. For a flash, she looks so much like the girl I spent every summer with. Same mouth. Same eyes. Same look where she’s trying not to laugh and losing.

“See ya,” she says.

“Yeah,” I say. “See ya.”

She turns and heads toward the bakery, and I watch her long enough to notice the way she still counts out her steps. Long enough to see her tuck her hair behind one ear before she reaches the door.

Hank sits down hard on my foot and lets out a long bulldog sigh. I look down at him. “We’re fine.”

We stay there for another few seconds anyway. Me looking toward Holey Moley. Hank planted on my foot like an anchorwith jowls. Then I blow out a breath and nudge him lightly with my leg. “Alright,” I say. “Let’s head down to the boat.”

The Pinch of Tides rocks gently at the end of the dock. I unclip the line with one hand and grab the fold down ramp with the other. “After you,” I tell Hank.

He waddles aboard and climbs onto the bench, then drops into a frog-leg sprawl that takes up almost the whole thing. I sit in the little slice of space he leaves me and lean my forearms on my knees.

Psskt. My text tone goes off. Beer top popping open.

I already know it’s going to be some nonsense before I even look.

The Pumper: Well well well.

Charlie, do not.

The Pumper: Too late the town group chat is lighting up.

“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter, dropping the phone onto the console instead of throwing it off the port side.

I stand and start piddlin’ with things on the boat that don’t need piddlin’ with. “Okay,” I say out loud.

Hank opens one eye.

“This morning I was a man minding his own business.”

Hank sighs and shuts it again.

“And now,” I go on, “I’ve become public entertainment.”

TheGilligan’s Islandtheme song starts playing. My general ringtone.

I glance down, expecting Charlie again or Wayne somehow already hearing about it from three states away.

Oh. Hell.

It’s not Charlie.

It’s Maddy.

I hold the phone in my hand without answering. By the secondthree hour tour, Hank lifts his head, looking from me to the phone and back again, annoyed the song is disrupting his nap. “You’re not helping.”

I swipe to answer and put the phone to my ear. “Hello,” I say carefully. “Am I speaking to Maddy or Granny?”

“You took my Emory for a walk.”