"Well, I guess I shouldn't be surprised."
"Why?"
"Because Lauren Jane hates pie. You just love to stick it to her, don't you?"
Lauren Jane? She had to mean Lauren, her natural daughter. But I'd never heard the Jane part before. It must be new.
Lauren was about my age, but I had no idea what she liked, or didn't like. In truth, I barely knew the girl. She was the upstairs daughter. As for me, I'd been relegated to the basement from day one.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know," I said. "I'll bring a cake then."
"For Thanksgiving? What do you think this is? A birthday party?"
My brain was foggy, but my head was pounding. For the life of me, I couldn't think of another single dessert. I was gripping the phone so tight, I feared it might shatter.
I tried to keep my voice calm as I said, "Okay, then I'll bring a surprise."
"Oh, I'm sure you will."
And then, before I could respond, she hung up without saying goodbye.
I turned off the ringer and flopped back onto the bed. For at least an hour, I stared at the ceiling, willing myself to fall back asleep. But that woman got under my skin like almost no one else.
It didn't help that I knew she was doing it on purpose. Someday Josh would move out, and I'd be free to tell her exactly what I thought of her and all her games.
Until then, I was screwed.
I should be used to it by now. But somehow, I wasn't.
Chapter 26
I'd just drifted back to sleep when the sound of Chucky's barking jolted me awake. Groaning, I flopped onto my side and wrapped the pillow around my head, mashing it tight against my ears.
It was no use. Even muffled, there was no ignoring it. When I heard the ding-dong of the doorbell, I hurled the pillow against the wall and stumbled out of bed.
There was only one person it could be. Lawton.
So much for giving me some space.
I jumped into my rattiest sweatpants and marched downstairs, leaving a trail of profanity in my wake. By now, Chucky was going nuts, barking his furry head off and skidding across the hardwood floors as he ran from window to window.
Grumbling, I snapped on his leash before getting within ten feet of the door. I'd learned all his tricks the hard way, and I wasn't about to fall for them again. With Chucky securely at my side, I stomped to the front door, flung it open, and bellowed, "What!"
Erika stood, blinking in the dappled sunlight. "So, uh, is this a bad time?"
Before I could form an answer, a furry land-rocket shot past my ankles. I looked to my hand. The leash was still there. Chucky wasn't. Instead, he was tearing full speed ahead toward the front sidewalk.
"Chucky, you come back here!" I hollered.
Giving Erika a frantic look, I plunged barefoot out of the entryway to sprint after him. The ground was frozen, sending shockwaves of icy jolts into the bare soles of my feet. Still, I pursued Chucky across the front yard, twice around a giant pine tree, straight through a dormant flower bed, and back toward the house.
Halfway to the front door, he stopped long enough to let me almost reach him. But just as I leaned down to scoop him up, he gave a yip and raced toward driveway.
I threw up my hands. "Fine! Go! See if I care!"
Ignoring my tirade, he circled my car and skidded to a stop near the driver's side door.
And then it hit me. My car. What was it doinghere? Last time I'd seen it, it was stalled at the restaurant. Wasn't it?
