Ripped From the Pages

For weeks, Derek and I had tossed around various possibilities, including renting a place somewhere in the city. That seemed to be the best alternative, but at the last minute, we were given a reprieve that made everyone happy. My parents’ next-door neighbors, the Quinlans, generously offered up their gorgeous French-style cottage for our use. They were off to Europe for three months, and we were welcome to live in their home while they were gone.

 

We offered to pay them rent, but all they required from us was that we take good care of their golden retriever, Maggie, and water their plants. When Mom offered to take care of the plants (knowing my tendency to kill them), it was too good a deal to pass up. I was hopeful that sweet old Maggie and my adorable kitten, Charlie (aka Charlemagne Cupcake Wainwright Stone, a weighty name for something so tiny and cute), would become new best friends.

 

So last weekend, Derek and little Charlie and I had moved out of our South of Market Street loft and turned it over to our builder, who promised to work his magic for us.

 

And suddenly we were living in Dharma, next door to my parents, in a lovely two-story French-style cottage that was both elegant and comfortable. The floor of the wide foyer was paved in old, smooth brick, giving the space a natural, outdoor feeling. The spacious living room was more formal, with hardwood floors covered in thick area rugs and oversized plush furniture in browns and taupes. Rustic wrought-iron chandeliers hung from the rough-hewn beams that crisscrossed the vaulted ceiling. The sage-toned kitchen was spectacular, with a twelve-foot coffered ceiling, a pizza oven, and a wide island that provided extra space for food preparation as well as seating for six. Off the kitchen was a small library with built-in bookshelves, a wood-burning fireplace, and two overstuffed leather chairs. I could already picture the two of us sitting there reading books each night by a cozy fire.

 

And in every room on the ground floor, dark-wood-paneled French doors opened onto an interior patio beautifully landscaped with lush plants and flowers.

 

Once we were unpacked and exploring the kitchen, Derek and I watched Maggie and Charlie sniff and circle each other for a few minutes. Finally, they seemed to agree that they could live in peace together. At least, I hoped so. Maggie ambled over to her bed and settled herself down on the fluffy surface. Charlie followed right behind her, clambered up and perched directly on Maggie’s big paw. Maggie stared at the tiny creature for a long moment, and I prepared myself to whisk the cat away. But then Maggie let out a heavy sigh and closed her eyes. Charlie snuggled up against the big dog’s soft, warm fur and was asleep several seconds later.

 

Derek and I exchanged smiles. I had a feeling we would all be very happy here.

 

And now here I was, sitting in my mother’s kitchen on a bright Monday morning, drinking coffee with Robin and listening as my mother tried to brush past the fact that I did indeed have an alarming tendency to come upon dead bodies in the strangest places. Luckily, that wasn’t likely to happen in Dharma anytime soon.

 

As I watched Mom bustle around her sunny kitchen, I wondered how I’d ever thought I could avoid seeing her every day simply because we weren’t together in the same house. Not that I minded visiting with her on a regular basis. I joked about it, of course, but in truth, my mother was great, a true original and a sweet, funny woman with a good heart. All my friends loved her. She was smart and generous. But sometimes . . . well, I worried about her hobbies. She’d been heavily involved in Wicca for a while and recently had been anointed Grand Raven Mistress of her local druidic coven. Some of the spells she had cast had been alarmingly effective. She would try anything once. Lately she’d shown some interest in exorcisms. I didn’t know what to expect.

 

I supposed I didn’t have much room to criticize Mom’s hobbies, given that my own seemed to revolve around crime scenes.

 

“Do you want some breakfast before we leave?” I asked Robin. We’d made plans to drive over to the winery this morning to watch them excavate the existing storage cave over by the cabernet vineyards. It would eventually become a large underground tasting room. Cave tastings were the hottest trend in Napa and Sonoma, and our popular Dharma winery was finally jumping on the bandwagon.

 

Robin pulled out a kitchen chair and sat. “I already had breakfast with Austin. He had to be on-site at seven.”

 

“Derek left the house about that time, too. I thought he’d be driving into the city today, but he decided to hang around to watch the excavation.”

 

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