“I was going to buy it from Amazon, but then I thought I’d rather be able to hold it, you know? Check out what was on the market. So I went to Frieda’s Palace one day, and if that wasn’t the most entertaining hour of my life, I don’t know what was. Some of those dildos were really quite grotesque.”

As she stared at the object again, Della’s mind boggled.

“The way I figure it,” Rosemary continued, “if there’s no one around to take care of my needs, why not take care of it myself? You think your sex drive dies when your husband does or because you get old? It doesn’t. Gotta admit, it was MIA for a good while, but it came back.”

Considering Della’s sex drive had only just made itself known, she was fascinated by this insight. And…hopeful. If Rosemary Forbes was still a sexual being in her eighties, maybe Della had plenty of years left to make up for lost time.

“Well…good for you,” she said, nodding at the older woman.

A faint “Dellllaaaa?” drifted in from outside.

She gave Rosemary a quick smile. “Sorry, I’ve gotta go.” Remembering she still hadn’t retrieved the flashlight, Della reached into the drawer again and pulled it out, freeing it from the ledge at the back where it had been caught. She tossed it on the bed next to the rabbit.

“They look weirdly related, don’t they?” Rosemary mused.

Della laughed. In fact, Rosemary’s observation put a smile on her face all damn day.

Her smile dimmed gradually as she waited for Arlo to arrive home from work that night. He’d texted to let her know he was going to be late and to go ahead and eat without him, which she’d done, but it was after eight and she worried about the icy roads. Arlo was a cop. That wasn’t without its dangers. There wasn’t a lot of criminal action in Credence, Colorado, but she knew Arlo would protect this town and its citizens with his life if that’s what was required.

Not a lot of jobs asked for that kind of sacrifice. And she hadn’t had her brother for that long.

She was relieved when he finally walked through the door fifteen minutes later and mollified further by the two slices of Annie’s cobbler he’d brought home with him. Annie’s diner was an institution in Credence, and her cobbler had been known to make grown men weep.

Arlo sat in his recliner, which was positioned next to Della’s. They were black leather, separated by a small low table where the remotes usually lived, and faced a massive television screen currently on CNN. She wasn’t sure if she was Joey or Chandler in this scenario, but Arlo’s house was very single-male-apartment-circa-1990.