Page 110 of A Little Naughty

“Pinky said she has a dog now, too. She said Angie Dickinson is her best friend, but I said Ang belongs to Monay.” Nikki takes a bite of garlic bread. “Then Pinky got mad and told Mrs. Mamma Cass I was being mean to her.”

“Wait…” Jemima holds up a hand. “You call my sisterMrs. Mamma Cass?”

“Pinky started it,” Nikki explains. “She was calling her Mamma Cass, and Aunt Cass said she had to call her by her teacher-name at school. So she added the Mrs.”

“I see…” Jemima looks at me, and I shrug. “Well, I know Cass wouldn’t think you’re being mean. She also knows her daughter, and Pinky can be a bit… ahh… what’s the word?”

Her eyes drift to mine again, and I got nothing. In the short time I’ve known her, I’ve learned Pinky is a handful, but nobody better dare say so in front of Jemima’s sister.

“Ryan calls her the pink tornado,” Nikki says, and Jemima swallows a snort. “Anyway, Mrs. Mamma Cass told us not to compare our pets anymore. She said we had to love them all equally.”

“I agree.” Jemima nods, taking her last bite of pasta.

“I do, too, because Owen isalwaysgoing on about how smart Edward is.” Nikki rolls her eyes like she’s so over it. “So he can find stuff. So what?”

I polish off my last bite of pasta, not really wanting to burst her bubble about the intelligence of Edward versus poor ole Porkchop.

“I was going to say Porkchop is my best friend,” she continues, darting worried eyes at me. “But I guess he’s not really mine.”

“Sure, he is.” I reach over to squeeze her forearm. “He belongs to all of us, and he can be your best friend. Do you know what he did just now?”

“Ate grass? I saw him do that the other day.”

“No…” I don’t like the sound of that. “He sat when I told him to sit.”

“He did?” She jumps out of her chair and runs to the door. “I’ve been trying to get him to do that for weeks!”

“Let me know if you see him eating grass again,” I call after her, then turn to Jemima feeling pretty good about what’s happening here. “It’s nice, don’t you think?”

“I do!” Her face shines, and she steps out of her chair to kiss my lips. “I like when we talk to each other at dinner, especially now that our schedules have changed.”

“He did it!” She comes running back, then she does a little dance around her chair. “Just wait til I tell Owen!”

“Okay, sit down and finish your dinner.” Jemima nods to her chair as she picks up her plate and carries it to the sink.

I stand as well, collecting my dishes as Nikki grabs a piece of garlic bread. She takes a big bite and wiggles her butt back and forth in her chair. It makes me chuckle.

“What are you doing?” Jemima meets me halfway to the sink.

“Helping clean up.”

“Y’all cooked.” She shoos me with her hand. “Go for your walk, and I’ll clean up the kitchen.”

I shake my head, but I hand her my plate, gesturing to Nikki. She grabs Porkchop’s leash off the rack, and when we head outside, she snaps it to his collar.

Strolling up Main Street, we nod and wave to the few folks on their way to El Rio or running errands or going home. Eureka gets pretty dead during the week after quitting time.

Nikki walks beside me, and I haven’t noticed PorkChop jerk her arm yet.

“You’re doing a really good job with him. I never had enough time to train him to do anything.”

“He’s not dumb.” Her voice is quiet, and it seems like something more is on her mind.

She was telling us so much at dinner, maybe we should’ve kept it going. I could’ve dug out a few of those millions of packs of cookies Jemima carries around in her purse and called it dessert.

We’re rounding the square, and it won’t be long before we’re back at the house. She’s still walking with her brow furrowed, watching Porkchop walking at the very end of his leash. He’s not jerking, but he’s not walking with us.

Clearing my throat, I do my best to sound casual. “Is there something else you want to talk about?”

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