It was nearly dark, and I'd neglected to hand over the thing I'd come to deliver. If Gwen stopped by, she could have it, no big deal.
And if she didn't?
Well, that was fine, too.
Or at least, that's what I kept telling myself as I stalked the rest of the way home, wondering how much of Harper's story was true.
It wouldn't excuse her rudeness, but itwouldgo a long way in explaining why Tango bore such a striking resemblance to the vivid orange kitten.
The way it looked, both GrandpaandTango had been a lot busier than I'd ever realized. One way or another, I decided, I'd be getting the whole story.
And I'd be getting it soon.
Chapter 10
Gwen
Was it too late to be stopping by?From inside my old Chevy Malibu, I pulled out my cell phone and checked the time – just past eight o'clock.
If this were summer, the sun would still be shining. But itwasn'tsummer, and darkness had fallen hours ago along with a good bit of snow.
Drake's house was all lit up, not only with interior lights behind the pale window blinds, but also with red Christmas lights that followed along the high roofline. Combined, this gave the house a warm, festive look that might've made me smile if only I weren't so agitated after the scene from earlier.
Nothing had been resolved – not with Drake and most certainly not with Harper, who would be getting an earful from me when I returned to the house.
But first things first.I owed Drake an apology, and I hated the thought of putting it off.
From the driver's seat, I stared out through the passenger's side window as I considered what I should say. I was still staring when a sudden rap at my own window made me jump in my seat. I turned to look and spotted a rugged-looking man with a thick shock of gray hair.
Through the glass, he asked in a familiar gruff voice, "You wanna get dinged by a plow?"
I didn't get it. "Excuse me?"
"The snowplow," he said. "Thelastperson who parked here got sideswiped by the truck." He shook his head. "Man, washepissed."
What should I say to that?"Oh. Well…"
He jerked his head toward the house. "If I were you, I'd park over there."
I glanced in that direction. "Sorry, where?"
"In the driveway," he said. "You know what that is, right?"
"Of course." I bristled as I studied his face. Unless I was mistaken, I was staring at Drake's grandfather, who was younger and more handsome than I'd expected.
He didn't look a day past fifty, which made no sense, unless Drake was also younger than I'd realized. The guy gestured toward the house. "So, you want me to walk you in? Or do you wanna ring the bell?"
I'd been planning to ring the bell, but that would look silly now that one of the home's occupants was willing to usher me inside – except I wasn't planning togoinside. Stalling, I asked, "So…I’m guessing Drake's home?"
"Probably," the guy said. "Of course, I'd have to drag him out of the basement – unlessyouwant to."
His mention of the basement was the perfect reminder that I was only here to make amends, nothing more. "Actually," I said, "I was hoping he'd come to the door."
"Good luck withthat."And then at my confused expression, he explained, "If he's wearing his headphones, it'll take more than the bell to get him upstairs." He brightened. "But you know what?"
"What?"
"I'm liking your odds."
