Page 96 of That Time I Kissed The Groomsman Grump
We still have plenty of time.
My mom’s station wagon is right where my dad left it after driving us here this morning. Her keys are exactly where I knew they’d be, in the front cup holder. Full tank of gas? Awesome! Man, I love my parents and their reliability.
I take the fastest route over the bridge and across town because I know every street here by heart. Still, it feels like forever until I get to the clinic. When I finally arrive, pulling up to the curb, I take the space right out front. No other cars are nearby.
The CLOSED sign is still showing. Dr. Swanson’s probably at the hospital. But thanks to my walk with Gator and Willa the other night, I know where they keep a spare key to the side door. It’s in the mouth of a ceramic bullfrog next to the welcome mat.
Anyone with half a brain would think to look in the frog after checking the mat. But nobody in Abieville would break in anywhere, not even with Preston Bender as sheriff. The people here might not be perfect, but they have big hearts and generous souls. Besides. You’d be stealing from your own cousin. Or your principal. Your little league coach.
Your high school crush.
As I head around the side to let myself in, gray clouds roll across the sun. A strong gust of wind blows a few extra strands of my hair loose. I spit them out of my mouth, ruining my lipstick. I’ll have to fix myself up back at the bridal suite.
You still have time.
The side door opens right across from the wall of kennels, and I prop the door open with the bullfrog. I just want to be sure I don’t accidentally lock myself in somehow. My track record with stuff like that isn’t great, and I can’t afford to make a mistake right now. I find LuLu curled up in a tight ball. Willa and Gator are on their feet, ears perked. They’re probably surprised by someone coming in the door. Least of all me.
“Hey, there, sweetie pies.” I approach them, and they wag their tails, snuffling at the doors of their kennels. Then I check on LuLu, watching for the gentle rise and fall of her tiny chest. There it is. Breathing in. Breathing out. This is good. The next time I see Brady, I can tell him LuLu was sleeping peacefully. I glance up at the clock above the exam room.
You still have time.
Heading down the hall to the office, I pass Brady’s locker and pause for the briefest of moments. His current notebook with the bookmark must still be inside. He says he’s got more than a dozen of them. I wonder where he keeps them all. Maybe there are more in his locker. Or in his car. At his house. Maybe on his nightstand next to his bed.
I definitely should NOT be thinking about Brady Graham’s bedroom.
Still, I’m dying to read his book. Even just a line or two. And he did say he wants to share his writing with me. But the truth is, I want to bewithhim when I read his words. And I have another important goal right now.Don’t be selfish, Natalie. So even though my pulse is racing with the chance to peek at Brady’s work—with his semi-permission, even—I continue up to the front of the clinic.
I need to find those vows. Maybe Brady or Dr. Swanson discovered the folded-up stationery and stuck the note on the desk. They wouldn’t even know what they were looking at. Surely they wouldn’t have read something that wasn’t theirs. But in the office, there is nothing new on the desk. There’s nothing at all on there, besides the computer and LuLu’s file.Sigh.
Crouching down to peer around the floor, I immediately spot the pink square of stationery.EUREKA!It’s wedged behind the wheel of the rolling chair. “There you are!” My cheer of triumph is so loud, I probably woke up LuLu.
You still have time.
But Kasey’s probably worried by now. So with my stupid bare feet and my messy hair and my smeared lipstick, I hurry back down the hall, clutching her vows. I make a quick stop at the kennels to say goodbye to the dogs—“See you later, sweethearts! Miss you already!”—and that’s when I smell it. Barely a whiff. Just a hint. But there’s definitelysomethingin the air. Willa drops to a sit, one paw raised. Gator whimpers at me.
Smoke.
I head down the hallway to investigate, but nothing seems amiss. I test the door between the clinic and the house with my palms. It’s not hot. A good sign. So I try the knob and find it unlocked. Opening the door to the Swansons’ house is mysecondmistake. The first was when I arrived and propped the door to the outside wide open with that frog.
A great gust of wind blows straight down the hall, mixing with the drafts from the Swanson’s kitchen. Across the house, in a dim corner of the living room, sparks flicker around a power strip. Within seconds, flames begin to lick up the side of their couch. As black smoke curls toward the ceiling, I spot a fire extinguisher between the pantry and the stove.
Hopefully I’ve gotten here in time.
“Hello!” I yell, diving for the extinguisher. “Dr. Swanson? Are you here? Is anybody home?” While I take aim, the flames do a strange dance of orange and blue. “Anybody? NO ONE?” No response.
For better or worse, I’m in this alone. My heart is exploding in my chest. A voice throbs in my head:You’ve got this, Natalie.
You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.
ChapterForty
BRADY
I swipe at a small squirt of shaving cream on my pants, and smack Ford’s shoulder. Not real hard or anything. Just enough to let him know I’m annoyed. We’re in the parking lot of The Beachfront Inn on our way back from decorating Beau’s truck. Ford is walking on one side of me. Three’s on the other. “I told you we should’ve changed first,” I grumble.
Ford chuckles. “We didn’t have time to change. And where’s your sense of adventure, man?”
I eye him sideways. “It’s covered in Gillette for sensitive skin.”
