“Good, Mom. Later.”

When she got home, Roxie changed clothes and dug out the vacuum. When her entire office was vacuumed and dusted, she rolled the chair out in the hall. “Well, Sir Charles, once we put the rug down, I will need an office mat to roll the chair around on. One more thing. What do you think?”

Sir Charles lay down in the doorway, chin on his paws.

“I know, you want me to come throw the ball.” The pooch raised his head and pricked his ears. “Go find your ball.”

He took off down the stairs and was back before she could turn around, grungy yellow tennis ball in his mouth. He dropped it at her feet. She tossed it down the stairs and followed him down. At least she got Ginny to drink and eat some. If only she would let Amalia come back and stay with her. She called Amalia, rather than waiting for her to return the last call.

“I know, I was about to call you. I’m ready to go whenever you want to take me out there. When I show up and set my suitcase on the bed, what can she do?”

“You think there is a reason she has not moved up to her own bedroom?”

“Can’t stand the thought of Fred not there.”

Roxie suspected as much. “So, how can we help with that?”

“We can’t but no big deal.”

Roxie checked her watch. “I need to be back here by five. Can we do that?”

“Sure, just give me long enough to get out of the car.”

“No, I was going to throw you out at the end of the driveway. Thanks, Amalia. I think we will all be relieved that you’re there.”

“All but Ginny.”

“Right.” She whistled for Sir Charles and lifted the hatch on her SUV. “Come on for the ride, big guy.” He jumped in, panting in delight. He loved to ride in the car. He also loved to run the farm with Spook, but not today. On the way to pick up Amalia, she had two phone calls, one looking for a house and one with another possible one to list. She agreed to show the buyer around in the morning and made an appointment with the seller late that same afternoon. She drove back in her driveway right at five o’clock, and went in to make sure there was plenty of iced tea. If coffee was the drink of choice, the Keurig would take care of that, even letting Nate have his choice of flavors. She took a plastic container from the freezer to let the cookies thaw before she stuck them in the oven just long enough for the cookie fragrance to perfume the house.

Then she picked up the phone and called MJ. “I have a favor. Call me back when your phone rings once.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“All right but you have to tell me afterward what is going on.”