American library books » Other » Organically Yours: Sanctuary, Book Five by Abbie Zanders (love letters to the dead txt) 📕

Read book online «Organically Yours: Sanctuary, Book Five by Abbie Zanders (love letters to the dead txt) 📕».   Author   -   Abbie Zanders



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to mention something to Smoke about it later.

“Park in the free lot,” Mr. O’Farrell directed when Doc was about to make a second pass along Main Street, looking for a good spot along the curb.

The old penny meters were still in place, but no one had been checking them for years as far as Doc knew.

“Are you sure?”

“Everything I need is within a few blocks, and the walk will do these old legs good.”

They went to Hoffmeier’s Florist first, where a cheerful woman named Penny promised Mr. O’Farrell she’d design a special bouquet and have it delivered the next day. She also inquired about Kate and asked Doc to pass along a hello, which he was happy to do.

Next was the candy shop, Lindström’s. The moment they walked in, they were hit with the scents of melted chocolate and freshly roasted nuts. While Mr. O’Farrell hand-selected an assortment of candies, Doc picked up boxes of caramel cashew clusters and chocolate-covered raisins with their next movie night in mind.

As they were walking back to the car, two elderly women in puffy pastel coats were coming toward them on the sidewalk. Mr. O’Farrell grabbed Doc’s arm in a surprisingly strong grip and tugged him into the nearest shop.

Once inside, the older man peered out the window from behind Doc’s much bigger frame. He exhaled in relief when the two women passed by.

“The Schaeffer twins,” Mr. O’Farrell said in explanation. “If they see me with a box of Lindström’s, they’ll want to know who it’s for. Especially Lydia. She’s had the hots for me for fifty years. Not my type though. Too skinny and proper. I like a woman with a little meat on her bones and fire in her soul.”

Doc chuckled as an image of white-blonde hair and sparkling pale blue eyes came to mind. He couldn’t agree more.

“Can I help you with something?”

Doc turned at the male voice to find Kate’s father glaring their way from behind the counter of Handelmann’s Hardware. His scowl deepened when he recognized Doc.

Mr. O’Farrell either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “Eric, my boy,” the old man said jovially. “Good to see you, lad. How’s the ticker? Heard it was giving you some trouble a while back.”

Mr. Handelmann’s eyes moved to the older man, his jaw unclenching slightly. “Better than ever, Mr. O’Farrell.”

“Good, good. Glad to hear it. Don’t mind us. Just taking port in a storm, and then we’re going back to enjoy some of Kate’s cooking.”

Eric Handelmann stiffened at the mention of his daughter’s name.

“Fine, fine girl you raised there, Eric. You should be proud.” The old man tapped Doc on the arm. “Okay, son, I think the coast is clear. Good day, Eric. Tell Beth I said hello, will you?”

Without waiting for a response, Mr. O’Farrell pushed out the door, leaving Doc to follow.

“The man’s a damn fool,” Mr. O muttered as they continued down the sidewalk. “Never would have believed he’d treat his own daughter that way, especially Kate, but there it is. Everyone has their priorities, I suppose, and if you ask me, his are grossly misplaced.”

Yet another thing they were in full agreement on.

Errands completed, Doc drove them back to Mr. O’Farrell’s place and warmed a bowl of pot pie for each of them.

“No one makes pot pie like Kate,” Mr. O’Farrell commented after humming in approval.

Doc agreed wholeheartedly and said so. Kate was an excellent cook, and her efforts were very much enjoyed by everyone at Sanctuary.

“Is her young man treating her well? Is she happy?”

“He is, and she is,” Doc confirmed.

Mad Dog’s whole world revolved around his wife, and there was no question that Kate felt the same way about him. Still, her family’s shunning must have hurt, especially when it was so pointless.

“She’s a good girl with a big heart. I’m glad she found someone who appreciates her. What about you?”

Doc stopped chewing. “What about me?”

“Got any special ladies in your sights?”

Once again, an image of Tina Obermacher came to mind, but that didn’t really count, not the way Mr. O’Farrell meant anyway.

Doc continued to chew, then swallowed, and took a drink of water. “Not particularly.”

“Why not? You’re a handsome fella with a good head on your shoulders and a kind soul. Shouldn’t be that hard to find a decent woman. How old are you now?”

“Thirty-one.”

“Thirty-one!” Mr. O’Farrell chuckled. “By the time I was your age, I’d already served my time in the Navy, gotten married, and had three kids.”

Well, thought Doc, one out of three isn’t too bad.

“You know, Lottie’s got a granddaughter. Quite a looker, too. If things work out, maybe I could introduce you. We could double-date sometime.”

Chapter Nine

Tina

“Good, you’re here. She’s in a mood today,” Bonnie said by way of greeting when Tina arrived at the house to pick up her grandmother.

According to Bonnie, Lottie was always in a mood, but Tina believed it was more of a clash of personalities than anything. Lottie made it clear she didn’t think much of Rick’s wife, and Bonnie had suggested on several occasions that the Obermacher matriarch would be happier living in the retirement village in town.

“Are you wearing makeup?” Bonnie narrowed her eyes and peered suspiciously at Tina. “You look different.”

Tina had spent extra time on her appearance that morning. As a result, her freshly plucked eyebrows were on point, her skin was properly moisturized and glowing, and her hair had some flattering new layers, thanks to a long-overdue visit to the salon.

“New lip balm,” Tina replied.

“Huh. Listen,” Bonnie said, lowering her voice, “do you think you could keep her a little later than usual tonight?”

“Sure. Why?”

“Because we’re having people over.”

Tina took in the state of the kitchen and winced inwardly. Dirty dishes littered the sink and counter. Cereal boxes sat open on the table next to half-full bowls of milk, peppered with soggy floaters—no doubt the remains of that morning’s breakfast.

Bonnie wasn’t looking much better. Though past noon, she was still wearing a robe over pajama pants and Rick’s torn football practice jersey,

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