Page 82 of Red Hot Roaster

Yeah, shitty time all around. But right D. Tango Mike for that nite, pass on to J-L too. Will you & your mamma keep an eye on R? Worried abt eating. Will be back in touch.

Thursday * 5:14 p.m.

Finn

WTF? Mom txted ur not coming back. Said she was okish. Don’t believe her. Shook.

Needed an interpreter to keep up with this kid.

Thursday * 5:19 p.m.

Finn

BTW Pics from Turkey Dog Jog attached. FYI Posted on CLC Web, Insta & FB.

I had forgotten all about Katt’s photo tent. First pic, Princess and me—her showing off her loopy grin, me sporting her feathered pink tiara and a frown. Next pic, Pirate and Finn—both smiling, teeth on full display, the pirate tricorn-and-parrot headband now shifted to Finn’s head. Last one, Rose standing between Finn and me—the dogs sitting in front of us, both hats on Rose’s head now, sticking out at side angles, our arms around her, all laughing at the camera.

Well, almost all. I was looking down at Rose.

Thursday * 6:48 p.m.

Me

Thx for the pics. Thx for posting them for all to see. Not.

Me

Your mamma is the best. I’m not. Better that she find a better man.

Me

Glad to have met you. You’re lucky to have each other. Watch out for your mamma.

“Hello? Hello? Rafe, is that you?” Pete shouted. It was phone calls for Pete since the idea of texting was foreign to him. That being said, his grandkids might succeed in getting him on board.

“Yeah, Pete, it’s me. Is this an okay time to talk? Not interrupting your dinner?”

“Nope, this is fine,” he assured me. “Rose said you got there safely, didn’t run into any snow or ice.”

I took a big breath, closing my eyes for a moment. It sounded like Rose had no problem telling people I’d taken off in the middle of the night. I wondered if she’d shared anything else.

“Sorry I didn’t call you when I got here. Kinda hit the ground running.”

“No worries.” He paused. “How’re you doing, son?”

What the fuck could I say? That I was lonesome for Rose, and it’d only been—what, three days? That I missed her hot touch, but I missed her nonstop sassing more? That I was crazy with worry that she was safe alone in that big house?

That I was barely stopping myself from jumping in my pickup and storming back to Portland?

I could be honest with Pete though. He wouldn’t judge me.

“I’m fucked up,” I grunted. “But at least I didn’t fuck up by caving and saying I’d be back.”

He sighed, but didn’t say anything.

Time to move on. “Appreciate you pitching in to help Rose while she’s searching for a new roaster. Especially with the holidays, the grocery store, the hospital kiosk and all.”

“Anything for our girl,” Pete pledged. “Mike’s been helping too—just can’t do much with his leg taking so long to heal. His doc told him he’ll have to quit after the first of the year.”

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