Page 78 of Yolo

Rufus, luckily, did decide to eat.

In the meantime, I waited patiently for them to finish.

We were just about done when my mom called.

“Hey, Mom.” I smiled as I answered.

“Hey, you. How was your day?” she asked.

I explained about my day, then told her all about Garrett.

By the time I’d finished telling her that I loved him, she was squealing.

“This is the best thing ever!” she crowed. “Show me around his house!”

“Sure,” I got up and called to the dogs. “Let’s go outside for a little bit, boys.”

Both dogs followed me, Rooster keeping pace with Rufus, and headed to the back door.

“The door has the lock turned,” Mom said to me.

I felt for it and unlocked it, letting the dogs out. “This is the backyard, what’s it look like?”

“Lots of space. There looks to be a community pool between all of the houses. You’re in a sort of circle design with all of the backyards facing the pool. It’s a bit closer to you than it is to the rest of them, though. Looks awesome,” she explained. “Everything is fenced, too, so you can leave them out there.”

I left the dogs outside to play since it was rather cool and went back inside to show her around the house.

“It’s gorgeous,” she breathed. “Tall ceilings. Lots of windows. Fabulous kitchen. Walls are a soft tan. The cabinets are a deep brown, almost black. Countertops are white quartz.”

We did this through the entire house before we wound up at the back door again.

“Dogs want in,” she explained.

I let them in.

“Is that Boss?” she asked.

“Actually, this is Rufus,” I explained.

“The one that got locked in the hot car?” She gasped. “He looks like he’s doing much better.”

“I think he is,” I said. “The horrible thing is, literally the next day, the weather cooled off to the point where a dog in a car for an extended period of time wouldn’t have mattered. There was just that one really hot day.”

“What’s the verdict on that woman?” she asked.

“I don’t know yet,” I admitted. “I’m sure that it’s been discussed, but I haven’t been bringing it up because I’d rather not get mad.”

“Hey,” she said. “There’s a man that’s about to come up the front walk.”

“What’s he look like?” I asked.

“Well, he’s shirtless, in sleep pants, and nothing else. Lots of tattoos.” She paused. “He just banged into the door.” She hummed. “Did it again.”

After hearing the fourth thump, I said, “I was informed that Atlas sleepwalks by his wife today. Does he have a tattoo of a P over his heart?”

“Sure does,” she said. “Great body. I’m talking smoking hot. Do you think that’s what Garrett looks like without a shirt on? I’ll gladly volunteer to explain every little detail about him if you want. Rawr.”

Ignoring the sound of my mother growling like a cougar over the phone, I opened the door and let Atlas inside.

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