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

CHAPTER TWELVE

Chapter Twelve

There’s something freeing about knowing the date of your death. All your fears of living vanish away. Worried you’ll be in a car wreck? Afraid you’ll fall off a roof and plummet to your death? Unless it was June twelfth, I had nothing to worry about.

It was also strange, like somewhere a big digital display counted down the moments until I died. I didn’t know the time, but I knew the day. I had less than a week left and I was done frittering my life away.

Where did I start? What did I do? The list, of course. All the things I’d always wanted to do but was too afraid to try. Twenty-three tasks left to accomplish in five days. Why was I wasting time in Ashley’s bed?

I scrambled up, kissing Ashley on the forehead. “Aunt Rose has to go home, Ashy!”

When I bolted down the hall, Violet looked like I had just announced plans to join the circus. “Where are you going?”

“Home,” I said, grabbing my purse.

“What? You can’t go there! What if someone tries to break in again?” Her voice rose in panic.

I yanked her into a tight hug. “It’s okay, Violet. I’ll be all right.” I didn’t add for another five days anyway. No sense worrying her any more than necessary.

“But, Rose…”

“I love you, Violet!” I yelled over my shoulder and headed to my car.

I tried to remember my list, hoping to do something on the way home. Get cable… I picked up my cell phone and found the number for the cable company. They said they’d send someone to install it the next day. I had to ask off work to meet the cable installer, then decided to call in sick for the entire week. I sure wasn’t going to waste my last five days at the DMV.

Get my own place… Violet said she would sell the house to me, so that made it mine. Two items just like that. Maybe this would be easier than I thought.

As I drove through downtown, I noticed a pickup truck stopped at the edge of the park. The tailgate hung open and a large metal cage sat in the grass. A puppy romped next to it.

Get a dog.

I turned around and drove back to the truck, parking to the side of it. A family with two small children played with the puppy. A bigger dog, but not by much, sulked in the corner of the cage when I walked up.

“Can we get him, Daddy?” the little boy asked the man who appeared torn.

He bent over, rubbing the back of the puppy’s neck. “Well…”

The boy and his younger brother began a chorus of pleases that would have softened the staunchest of men. The father caved.

I watched it all transpire, taking delight in the children’s happiness. The way the puppy’s owner kept glancing at me I realized I probably looked like some kind of child predator standing there.

“Is that your last dog?” I asked, looping my hand around the strap of my purse.

“That’s my last puppy. I’ve only got the mother left. She’s just a mutt, though. Nobody wants her. I was gonna drop her off at the shelter on my way home.”

I looked down at the whimpering dog in the cage. She was small, definitely a mutt and not cute like her offspring. Her gray and black fur was short and wiry. She had short legs, a long body, and pointy ears and snout. She looked like a cross between a terrier and a rat.

“Can I see her?”

The owner looked at me like I’d lost my mind, which I supposed I had. I knelt down. “What’s her name?”