TWENTY-EIGHT AND A HALF WISHES (A ROSE GARDNER MYSTERY, BOOK 1)

CHAPTER EIGHT

Chapter Eight 

The next morning, beer and I mutually decided our relationship wasn’t going to work out. I wondered why it decided to turn on me as I clung to the toilet, waiting to puke my guts out. Everything had been going so well the night before. I lifted my head, trying to remember what happened, and groaned when it all rushed back. I dropped my head in dismay, whacking my forehead on the porcelain. Just what I needed to help my already aching head.

What did I do? What did I do? What did I do? ran through my head like a Buddhist chant. What did I do? I drank a beer. And then another. Joe showed up. And he brought me a sandwich. I drank another beer. And he read my list.

I groaned again. He read my list. How could have I let that happen? Then I remembered our kiss. If my stomach hadn’t been rallying the rest of my intestinal track into a march of protest, I might have enjoyed the rush of heat and anticipation that accompanied the memory. I remembered asking him to help me with the do more wish and I groaned again. What had I done? But I remembered both kisses and I couldn’t find enough shame to muster any guilt. I felt like a fool and Joe surely thought I was a complete idiot, but I wasn't sorry I kissed him.

And there you had it; I was paving the highway to hell in beer bottles and kisses.

But I checked off another wish on my list. That brought a smile to my lips, right before I puked.

When I made my way to the kitchen, I found a note on the table, written on the back of a Stop-N-Go receipt. Next to it was my Wish List, which now had tiny check marks next to the numbers one, ten, fourteen and eighteen.

I picked up the gas pump receipt, the print small enough to fit on the three-inch long paper.

Rose,

I hope you feel okay today. Be sure to drink lots of water and I’ll check on you later.

Joe

PS. In case you missed it last night, I really like your hair.

I clutched the receipt to my chest. My first note from a boy. Well, a man. Joe definitely wasn’t a boy. Giddiness washed through me, in spite of my overall ickiness. I really wanted to share this with Violet, but I wondered if she was still mad.

The wooden box on the kitchen table caught my eye. I had to tell Violet about the will and I needed to figure out where I would live. The thought of moving away from Joe filled me with sadness. You’re getting ahead of yourself. There’s nothing between you and Joe. But I hoped there was anyway.

I picked up the phone, took a deep breath and called Violet. She answered, her tone cool but not as chilly as before. Of course, she knew it was me from her caller ID.

“I miss you, Violet. I don’t want to fight anymore.”

“I miss you too. I’m sorry. Do you forgive me?”

I started to cry. “Of course! You’re my sister, I have to forgive you.”

We laughed, still awkward in our reconciliation.

“Look, Violet, we need to talk about Momma’s will.”

“Oh! How could I forget all about that? I’m sure it won’t be that big a deal.”

I forced cheerfulness into my voice. “I wondered if I could run over later and we could look over it?”

“Sure, want to come over for lunch? Then we can chat while Ashley and Mikey nap.”