Warm Nights in Magnolia Bay, Babette Jongh [book club books txt] 📗

Quinn had lost count. But damned if he’d stop trying. “I’ve been building a huge set of bookshelves for an indie bookstore in NOLA. Did I tell you?”

“You texted a bunch of pictures.”

“Oh, yeah. I’d forgotten that.” Sean hadn’t responded, so Quinn had wondered if the text had gone through. But he knew better to bring that up. Sean would take it as a criticism and become even more defensive than he already was.

“Look, Dad. I need to go. I’ve got exams to study for.”

“Oh, okay. Sure. Talk to you later.”

Sean didn’t even say goodbye; he just ended the call.

Defeated, Quinn tossed his phone back into the passenger seat. The battered old truck’s radio wasn’t worth listening to, and road noise drowned out his cell phone’s speakers. If his ex-wife hadn’t kept all their friends in the divorce, he’d call a friend to make the drive back to the pool house seem shorter.

But she had, so that left him with few options.

His mom was off on another cruise with her husband, so he couldn’t call her. His dad was going deaf but refused to get a hearing aid, so phone conversations with him were almost as frustrating as talking to Sean.

Quinn even thought about calling Abby, but what would he say? They weren’t friends, just friendly neighbors. They’d both been lucky that the little dog’s barking had distracted them last night before they made a big mistake they’d both regret. That first kiss had been hot enough to burn, so he’d made sure the one he gave her at the end of the evening was no more than a lukewarm gesture of thanks. He shouldn’t have kissed her at all, but hell. How could he resist?

He could blame it on the wine, or on her excellent cooking, or on all of the atoms and molecules that combined to make her exactly who she was. He could blame it on his loneliness, or on her fluttery nervousness that he seemed to know instinctively how to diffuse. No matter what he blamed it on, he knew that following up on that steamy kiss with a phone call would have unavoidable repercussions. If he called her today, right after that lucky near-miss, he’d be making a conscious decision to take that relationship in a direction he didn’t have the time or energy or money to travel.

But when he thought of Abby’s sweet, guileless face and her luscious body that looked just as good in boxer shorts and a tank top as it did naked, he wished he did have the time and energy and money to make that call and find out whether they could be more to each other than friendly neighbors.

* * *

When the last bus pulled out of the barn’s parking lot, it was all Abby could do not to fall to her knees in relief. Edna patted her back. “You did just fine today. None of the animals or kids got hurt, and you taught those hellions why it’s important to respect animals. You’ve changed some minds, and maybe even the trajectory of a few lives today; probably even saved one or two of them from ending up in jail. Your aunt would be proud of you.”

“Thank you, Edna. I appreciate you more than I can say. If you hadn’t arrived this morning when you did—”

“You’d have handled it. I probably shouldn’t have stepped in the way I did.”

Abby hugged the older woman. “If you hadn’t, you would have had one more screaming person on your hands. I’m very glad you offered to take over.”

“Well, honey, I was glad to help. This place changes people for the better. It’s an honor to be a part of it.”

The other volunteers had zoomed out of there the moment the buses were loaded, and Abby didn’t blame them one bit. Edna always waited to see if there was anything more she could do to help. This afternoon was no different, but Abby let her off the hook. “I have to take a kitten to the vet this afternoon, so I’ll do all the chores when I get back. Thanks for the offer, though.”

When Edna left, Abby glanced at the clock. She’d have to hurry to get there on time. Quickly, she put the kitten in a travel crate and drove Reva’s car to the vet’s office, arriving exactly on time for the scheduled appointment.

She had worried that this late in the afternoon the office would be packed, but she was in luck; the gravel lot was empty. She parked under a big oak tree whose thick branches were covered in resurrection fern. An old-fashioned wooden sign with green lettering hung from a post on the shaded lawn:

MAGNOLIA BAY ANIMAL HOSPITAL

MACK MCNEIL, DVM

She took the crate off the passenger seat and shushed the kitten who meowed plaintively and stuck her little paws out of the crate’s slots. “Shush, baby.” She kept the crate level and walked up to the vet’s office, a cute clapboard building that had once been someone’s house. A wide front porch with a white rail was bordered by hanging ferns, the colors echoed by a row of white rocking chairs with green cushions. The building itself was a subdued shade of butter yellow with white trim.

Abby tried to open the door to the office, but it was stuck. Or, wait.… Was it locked? She set the crate down and peered through the door’s ornate, leaded-glass window. Seen in a kaleidoscope of rainbow images, the empty waiting room looked like something out of a 1940s movie, a mix-up of mismatched antique furniture that looked just right in the room.

But the only light came through the half-closed plantation blinds on the porch windows; the lights in the office were out. Why was the office closed when Abby had an appointment? She knocked on the door, but no one answered.

Never mind, whatever, the office was closed. “Well, hell.” She picked up the crate and headed back to the car. She was crossing