The Slow Burn (Moonlight and Motor Oil #2) - Kristen Ashley Page 0,34

she advised, and that got all my attention as this possibly answered the question about why my cards sold so well at Macy’s, as well as the question about how Toby knew about them. “They’re sweet. I love them. My last two birthdays I had to get cards for, I got yours and they were a hit. And a girlfriend of mine has had a rough go of it lately, health wise, and I got her one and it totally brightened her day.” She leaned across the check desk again. “Though she thought I handmade it myself, and I will admit, I didn’t disabuse her of that notion.”

That had me laughing. “Be my guest and take the credit if it brightens a friend’s day.”

She leaned back with a smile. “Thanks, hun.”

I looked to my register and told her, “That’ll be one hundred and seven, thirty-two.”

“You know the best part of that,” she declared, pulling out her credit card and shoving it in the reader. “I got twice as much stuff as Jocelyn, and all of it I want to eat, and my bill is practically the same.”

“Unhealthy food, healthy budget,” I remarked.

“Thank God that’s the way,” she replied.

She could say that. She didn’t have a kid now mostly on solid food whose mother wanted what went in him to be healthy.

She pulled her card out when the machine was beeping and looked again at me to take her receipt. “You ever wanna go to Home, have a glass of wine or something, that’d be fun. I have a posse in town and I reckon you’d fit right in. My last name is Merriman. Look me up on Facebook. Friend me, send a message, and we’ll set that up.”

It’d take a while for me to have the cash or the time to go have drinks with the girls at the local watering hole, if that ever happened at all.

But I didn’t share that.

I said, “That’d be fun. Thanks for asking. Maybe after the holidays. I’ll get on Facebook later and find you.”

“Awesome. Take care, Addie.”

“You too, Lora. And thanks for the entertainment.”

“Be warned, I’m a public servant that way. Ta, darlin’.”

“’Bye, Lora.”

She motored off with a “Thank you” to my bagger and I turned to the next person in line.

Fortunately, any indication someone knew about Toby and my fight began and ended with Jocelyn and Lora, so the rest of my shift went without incident. I was able to clock out, get home and let Iz off the hook of hanging with my son without any further drama.

I parked beside Izzy’s Nissan and hauled my tired self inside.

“Hey,” I called with Dapper Dan nosing my legs as I took off my coat and hat in the entryway.

“Hey,” Izzy called back from the family room.

I stowed my stuff, gave my dog a rubdown and then he and I moved to the living room.

Izzy was on the couch with what appeared to be a Christmas explosion around her.

She was doing cards.

I didn’t do Christmas cards.

This, I told myself before my recent life change, was about being environmentally conscious, when really it was about being lazy.

Now, I kind of wished I could send cards, especially those year-in-the-life photo ones because Brooks was all kinds of photogenic, but I couldn’t afford to.

Before, everyone who didn’t get a card from me probably knew I was being lazy.

Now, they probably knew I couldn’t afford them.

Damned if you don’t, damned if you don’t.

“Make a dent in it?” I asked, easing down into the white, slipcovered loveseat by where Iz was camped out on the couch.

One thing I knew about my choice of décor, I would never choose white for furniture.

But damn if Izzy’s stuff wasn’t comfy.

“Almost done,” she answered.

“Sorry I don’t have TV,” I murmured.

“Dapper Dan and I enjoyed a little quiet.”

I looked to the ceiling then to my sister. “He down?”

“Yeah, all good.”

“Thanks, Iz,” I muttered, putting toes to the heel of one of my not-so-white-anymore Keds and pushing it off.

Ah . . .

Nice.

“Doll, do we need to talk?” Izzy asked softly.

In the process of taking off my other shoe, I looked to her and saw the expression on her face.

Well, I guessed that meant I wasn’t going to get through the rest of the night without having a chat with someone about the Toby Incident.

“Iz—” I began, shoving off my other shoe.

“If it’s not my business, it’s not my business,” she said. “Johnny called Toby today about it, and Toby told him it was private. It’s