Free 3.5 Roasted in Christmas River by Meg Muldoon Page A

pages tomorrow. They’re gonna be littered with one-star reviews for this dump.”
    I crossed my arms against my chest, meeting her bitter gaze with confidence.
    Meredith held her stare as if she was trying to swing punches at me with her eyes.
    Then she grabbed Hunter’s hand, and quickly stomped across the dining room floor out of the shop.
    She slammed the door behind them.
    I let out a long sigh of relief.
    Maybe I had just made a big enemy there. Maybe I was going to get a ton of bad reviews tomorrow morning.
    But sometimes, you had to just follow your gut with things.
    And my gut said that Meredith wasn’t deserving of my pies this Thanksgiving.
    But at least her visit had been worth something.
    I’d figured something out from our conversation.
    I’d figured out what happened to Jack Daniels the turkey.
    Something had clicked when Meredith asked if my car accident had knocked something loose.
    The accident. 
    I went into the kitchen, placing the unsold pies back into the fridge, saving them for someone else who actually needed them.
     

 
    Chapter 23
     
    I was sprucing the kitchen up before heading back home when I heard the front door bell jingle that old familiar jingle.
    I dusted my hands off on my apron and then went out to see who it was.
    I hadn’t been expecting him.   
    He was wearing a faded Seattle Mariners baseball cap and a little wool jacket that looked like it had seen better days. Outside, I noticed his shoddy bike chained to a post out on the sidewalk.
    The boy dug his hands deep into his pockets, and stood in the middle of the empty dining room uncomfortably. He looked like a hungry, homeless dog. Like he might just bolt at any minute if I made any sudden movements.
    I slowly walked out from behind the dividing doors.
    “Hi, Frankie,” I said, smiling warmly. “Are you here to see me?”
    He didn’t respond. I saw his knees buckle a little, like he was close to making a run for it.
    I realized I’d have to say something quick if I had any chance at making him stay. 
    “I’m glad you stopped by,” I said. “I was just finishing up my day. You know how many pies I’ve baked in the last 24 hours?”
    His jumpy expression seemed to soften, and then he shook his head.
    “How many?” he said softly.
    “Over 200 .”
    His eyes grew a little wide.
    “That’s a lot,” he said.
    “Don’t my feet know it,” I said, smiling.
    He cracked one back for a second, but then it faded quickly. I saw him swallow hard.
    He was nervous.
    “You know, when I was your age, there was nothing I wanted more than a pet,” I said, coming around and taking a seat at one of the booths. “I begged my mom for a dog, and when she said no to that, I begged her for a cat. She said no to that, too. I started asking for anything – a gerbil, a rabbit – you know, I even asked for a ferret once. Can you believe that? A ferret . Have you ever seen those things? They’re downright mean.”
    Frankie took off his cap. He slowly walked over to the booth, taking a seat across from me.
    “But you know, she kept saying no to a pet. You see, my family didn’t have much money. My dad had left us a couple of years before and my mom was doing her utmost to make ends meet, but it can be so hard.”
    An expression of understanding came across his face.
    “I never got a pet when I was a kid,” I said. “But you know, I think that was okay. I have a dog now. And I love him all the more because I always wanted one. It’s like when you’re a kid, you don’t—”
    I stopped mid-sentence as Frankie’s little face broke and his eyes began to water.  A few seconds later, tears were streaming down his little, chubby cheeks.
    “She was going to kill it, Ms. Peters,” he said, his voice quivering. “She was going to kill Jack!”
     

 
    Chapter 24
     
    I got Frankie a Kleenex and put a hand on his sobbing shoulders, seeing clearly now just what had become of Jack Daniels the turkey.
    That night, the animal that had