Her Name Was Annie by Beth Rinyu (the little red hen read aloud txt) 📕

needed to be shredded. I wanted to take it home and go through it first to make sure there was nothing in there that would upset my father.

“I know you said you didn’t want any, but I figured you could use some caffeine for the job we have ahead of us,” Dad said as he entered the room with a cup of tea in each hand.

“Thanks.” I forced a smile.

Two rooms, four closets, and three and half hours later, we were finally done. We loaded all of the items for donation into my car along with the boxes for shredding. The rest were placed at the curb for garbage pickup. It had been an emotional morning, and even more so for my father, so I spent the rest of the afternoon with him, taking him to the supermarket and then having another cup of tea with him.

By the time I got home, I was on caffeine overload, running around the house, trying to prepare for drinks with Michael. Max was right at my feet the entire time. I looked at myself in the full-length mirror after changing out of my leggings and hoodie and into a pair of jeans and a sweater. “What do you think of this, Max?” I asked as he sat beside me, staring at my reflection as well. I was truly losing it, asking a dog for his opinion. “It’s just gonna have to do!” I patted him on the head, then went into the bathroom, touching up my makeup and hair. Max once again was lying at my feet. “I’d much rather be spending the night with you in front of the television and in my pajamas, but I don’t want people to say I’ve become the crazy old dog lady.” I think it was too late for that. I was well on my way to getting there. I looked in the mirror one last time and took a deep breath, hoping I made the right choice for the evening.

Chapter 12

RELIEF WASHED OVER me when I pulled into the safety of my driveway after my little get-together with Michael. I was hoping he got the hint that I wasn’t interested in anything beyond being work colleagues when I quickly ducked into my car to avoid an awkward goodbye. The few words to sum him up would be boaster, egotistical, and cheapskate. It amazed me that I’d never previously picked up on that during our few work encounters.

When I arrived at the bar, we both decided we were hungry, so we grabbed a table and ordered some food. If I’d known what I was in store for over that next hour or so, I would have dealt with my hunger pangs instead. Nonstop talk about how he left a job working at a private school up in the northern part of the state, making way more to teach at our school, so he could be closer to his kids.

Then of course the conversation of his kids led to the ex-wife and how she left him because she was jealous of him. I had to make him repeat that sentence because it didn’t make much sense, so of course he went on to explain. She had trouble taking the weight off after their third child and was very self-conscious because he was such a health nut and in such great shape, so she became jealous of that. It still made absolutely no sense to me. I was certain he was leaving a lot out, like maybe she was jealous of the women he’d try and pick up.

Then there was the cars—he was thinking about trading in his Jeep for a Porsche or a Corvette or maybe even a Lamborghini. Last but not least, he was having a house built in the Florida Keys after he retired. He had a lot of big dreams for living on a teacher’s salary. He was the textbook definition of a narcissist, and if I had to spend one more moment with him, I thought I would scream.

When the bill came, I had planned on paying for my share, so he would get the picture that this was by no means a date. What I didn’t plan was paying for most of his dinner as well. When he threw in fifteen dollars for a fifty-seven-dollar check, not including the tip, I just coughed up the rest, wanting to get out of there and away from him as quickly as I could.

My Saturday night would’ve been much better spent in my pajamas on my couch with Max, watching a silly rom-com movie. I stepped out of my car and gasped at the male figure in the darkness walking up my driveway. My heart slowly resumed to its normal rhythm when I realized it was Jack.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack or something?” I shouted with my hand covering my chest.

“I don’t know, are you trying to give Kara one?” he replied.

“What are you talking about?”

“She called me in a panic because she’s been trying to get a hold of you all night, so I told her I’d take a ride over and make sure everything was okay.”

“No, she—” It suddenly dawned on me that I had never turned the ringer back on from when I was at my father’s. I reached in my purse and grabbed my phone to find seven missed calls from Kara, two from my dad, and five texts from Kara as well.

Kara: (5:24 p.m.) Why aren’t you answering your phone?

Kara: (6:03 p.m.) I’m really getting worried. Call me back!

Kara: (6:44 p.m.) MOM??????

Kara: (7:31 p.m.) Freaking out!

Kara: (7:49 p.m.) I’m calling Dad.

Was she serious? After all the times she would blow me off and have me imagining her in a ditch on the side of the road or carjacked. Jack immediately pulled out his phone and got Kara on speakerphone. “She’s fine,” he said when she answered in a panic.

“Where was she?” she demanded.

“I don’t know,