Free Tumbling Blocks by Earlene Fowler Page A

opening of the exhibit this Wednesday night. Nola Maxwell Finch, Mr. Finch’s great-niece, would be there to officially present his painting to the museum. I’d not met her yet and, to say the least, I was nervous. There wasn’t a lot of information available on her uncle, and I didn’t want to say anything about him that wasn’t absolutely true.
    But I had miles to go before making that speech, and right now I needed to go pick up my pudgy little charge and figure out what I should do with him so that I could make it to the train station in time.
    I drove to All Paws and found the place a bit more quiet than when I dropped Boo off a few hours ago. Only Henry, a beagle not much bigger than Boo, and a perky little Chihuahua named Peanut, were left.
    “How’d he do?” I asked Suann, who was sitting in the front office. You could see the rooms where the dogs played through a clever porthole window behind the front desk.
    “Oh, he’s a little knucklehead, but he fit in fine,” she said, laughing.
    “What did he do?” I asked, feeling a twinge of anxiety, as if he were a child who didn’t fit in at preschool.
    “He already loves the sound of his own voice,” she said ruefully. “He and Henry really enjoy their little barking contests.”
    “I’m sorry,” I said, something I don’t think I’ve ever had to say about anything involving Scout. Then again, he was grown and trained by the time he came into my life.
    She waved her hand. “It’s part of the job.”
    I glanced up at the boat-shaped clock behind her head. I had an hour before the train arrived, time enough to go home, introduce Boo to Scout and see if either of my neighbors, Beebs and Millee, were home. I knew they’d watch Boo for the time it took for me to go to the train station.
    Luck was on my side in both cases. Scout, as I expected, accepted Boo with a noblesse oblige that any royal prince should envy and emulate. After a few sniffs, Scout allowed Boo to dance around his sturdy legs, nipping at them. He seemed to even give a doggie smile at Boo’s high little puppy barks.
    Only Beebs was home when I called, but she happily agreed to puppy sit. I was feeding Boo on the front porch when she arrived bearing a macaroni and artichoke salad for us to enjoy with our soup.
    “Thanks, Beebs,” I said, hugging her. “If nothing else will impress my mother-in-law, your macaroni salad will.”
    “She’d be nuts not to adore you like we do,” Beebs said, her silvery hair catching the glow of the fading sun. The sky, ragged with clouds, was painted turquoise and gold, carmine and tangerine, one of those breathtaking California winter sunsets that caused people to sell their homes in Kansas and Michigan and move to our already overcrowded Golden State. I hoped Kathryn was taking a nap right at this moment.
    “I did pretty much ruin any chance of her baby boy ever going home to Kansas to live,” I said, walking back into the house. “Not that he would have anyway. I think I just didn’t make a great impression when we first met.”
    “You’re on your home turf now,” Beebs said, picking up Boo and gently scratching him underneath his chin. He yawned, showing sharp little puppy teeth. “She’ll see you in a whole different light.”
    “I hope so,” I said, putting a bouquet of mixed flowers in a Mason jar and setting it in the middle of the table. “Darn, I really need to get some good vases.”
    “I have plenty I could loan you,” she said.
    “No time. As always, I think of stuff like that at the last minute. Maybe she’ll see it as retro chic or something.”
    Beebs gave her high, distinctive laugh. “Don’t worry, dear. It’s only two weeks. She’ll be gone before you know it. A body can suffer through anything for two weeks.”
    “You’re the second person who’s told me that.”
    “Must be true then. I have a pie in the oven, so if you don’t mind, I’ll take little Boo home with me. I’ll bring him back in a few hours.