Page 17 of Miles. Alton & The 9:04 (Modern Mail Order Brides #19)

M egan stood in the small backyard, overly pleased with how everything was turning out for her thus far.

The groceries were a pocket-saver, and now she had money to buy more raw ingredients to make her teas.

It didn't take her long to get the Etsy store online to open sales for downloadable digitized embroidery designs.

Several of the regular quilting designs for beginner sewing in the hoop projects were moving, and in just an afternoon, she'd made a hundred dollars.

It wasn't a great deal, but if the week ended that way, it wouldn't take her months to be able to pay rent.

“Whoo-hoo, Petr! Petr!” Jiminy called out. “Petr, where is your quill shedding ass hiding at? Petr, I have some carrots for you.”

“Hello,” Megan said, watching the odd man. “Are you looking for your porcupine?”

“No, I'm running around the backyard calling for a random man named Petr to come hang out with me,” Jiminy said, frowning at her.

“You don't need to be snippy,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Maybe he's back over at Thom's eating his furniture again.”

“No, I checked over there,” he said.

“Where did you find him, Jim? I mean, is there a local porcupine colony nearby? He could simply be out finding him a porcupine babe to start a family,” she said, looking at Jiminy’s sad face.

Megan had a cup of tea; one she had made with her special blend of herbs and tea leaves. The man was in distress. She offered him a cup.

“Jim...let me make you a cup of tea,” she said. “I'd like to hear about you and Petr and your special bond.”

Jiminy jutted out his pointy chin, “Hey! I know when someone is poking fun at me. And It's not Jim, but Jiminy, like Jiminy Cricket.”

Megan watched his face. “You mean like the little cartoon character?”

“Yes, when I was born my mamma said I looked like a little cricket, so she named me Jiminy,” he said, taking a seat on the patio deck.

Megan went inside the small home, returning with a cup of tea and a saucer of tea cookies.

It was nearing the dinner hour, and there were chicken breasts baking, but she wasn't certain if she was ready to begin sharing meals with this man, giving him the wrong idea. Instead, she decided she would listen.

“Must have been a tough childhood,” she said, passing him the tea.

“Hey, it's been a tough life,” he said, tasting the tea. “Hey! This is yummy. You know, I've had it rough. I've done all the right things in the right order, but all the wrong things keep happening to me.”

“You have a nice home, a good job, a pet porcupine, what could be so bad in your life?”

“My wife left me for my cousin Milbert,” he said. “Milbert and I played sports together in high school, and I've seen him in the shower with the water warm. He's always come up short, but she still left me for that cocktail sausage!”

Megan's blue eyes grew wide. “I'm sorry. What did you say?”

“Sophia, my wife, was a stay-at-home mom of six years,” he told her.

“You guys have kids?”

“No, which is why I couldn't figure out why she needed to stay at home. We didn't have any kids, then she decided my seed was making her uterus hostile,” Jiminy said. “That's when she had me and Thom build this house for her yoga studio to open her yoni and allow the seeds to be planted to grow.”

Megan was fully invested in his story, and she leaned forward. “Well, did it work?”

“Hey! It opened her up alright, to demons! Demons in her yoni that made her insatiable! Every day she was after me,” Jiminy said. “I hated to see her and that thing coming at me.”

“Oh, dear Lord,” she replied. “Did you ever try doing the yoga with her?”

“Hey, you know I did, but I didn't have a hostile uterus but a sorrowful sphincter, and every time I did the downward facing dog and came into a sphinx, I let out a week's work of backed up gas from her terrible cooking,” he said.

“That woman was the worst wife. Just downright terrible.

Couldn't clean, cook, do laundry, or make crafts.

I had to buy everything. I'm glad she is gone.”

Megan watched him, seeing the sadness in his eyes.

“No one aspires to be left behind, Jiminy,” she said.

“My momma and that boyfriend of hers are going to figure that out next month when the rent is not paid nor the utilities.

Some folks just don't know how to love, and those who do are thrown aside.”

“Hey, I guess. I just didn't think Petr would leave me too. I mean I rescued his quill covered ass, hand fed him, and raised him to be a man, and he left me.”

“Perhaps he's sowing his porcupine oats. I mean, how far do they travel and are there any nests close by? Where’s the nearest food source or water?” she asked, looking at him.

“Thanks,” he said. “Anybody else would think I was silly worrying so much over a wild animal. Well, he's not wild. I domesticated him, and I don't think he's gonna be able to survive out there on his own. He's not built for that life.”

Megan couldn’t help herself. She burst into laughter. She imagined a gang of porcupines baring their quills, cornering poor Petr for his carrots. The more she thought about it, the funnier it got.

“You're laughing at me.”

“No, I'm imagining a gang of porcupines on the playground after Petr for his carrots and lunch money. Hey, don't make me quill you, Petr! Cough up the carrots,” she said, chuckling.

Jiminy found himself laughing as well. The idea of Petr out there holding off a gang of cutthroat pirated porcupines raised his hackles. He frowned at her, then his face softened as if he’d been hit with a wondrous idea.

“I want some pie,” Jiminy said. “Grab your sweater and let's go into town to the diner and get some pie.”

“I have chicken baking.”

“Hey, take it out. Turn off the oven and let's go get some pie. Pie always makes me feel better.”

“Okay, pie it is,” she said, gathering their cups to take inside.

****

M AE WESTON'S WEEK GOT off to a rocky start.

She entered the office on Monday prepared to review the second quarter funding and the third quarter disbursements, only to get hit in the face with an air of discontent in the office.

As much as she tried to shake it off, on Tuesday it seemed to worsen, Wednesday, the entire mood of the office soured, and by Thursday mid-day, her staff was looking at her sideways.

The staff, whom she hand selected, vetted, and trained, was actually treating her as if she'd gotten drunk at the company holiday gathering and did the nasty with someone's husband in a closet.

At noon, for her lunch break, Mae told her assistant Rosemary she was leaving the property for lunch and found herself at the Amtrak station, boarding the 1:40 Lincoln Service to Alton.

The emotions stayed bottled up inside, a bowl of toxins poisoning her soul, and she had nothing with her but her purse and lunch pouch when the train pulled in the station at eight minutes after six.

Grateful for the train being on time, she disembarked to find the man she'd come to see on the platform, closing the shift in a conversation with the dude who owned the pet porcupine.

Thom looked up to see her standing on the platform.

He called her name. Mae, who had been so successful at being strong, being an example, and showing others how a professional woman behaved, took off at a sprint, throwing herself into his arms. Tears she didn't know she'd been holding poured from her as her body shook from the relief of simply being away from the toxicity, to be in the comfort of his embrace.

He wrapped his arms tightly around her, cradling her like a small child. Thom didn't know what was wrong, but he did notice she had no luggage, only her purse and lunch pail. Mae had left the office to board the train to come to him.

“Mary, whatever it is, we'll talk about it, help you sort through it, and come up with a workable solution,” he told her.

She clung to him for dear life, and more than anything, she needed a good soak, a glass of wine, and a few moments to wrap her head around an issue that wasn't going away. As far as Thom was concerned, whatever she’d left didn't require her to return because to him, Mary had come home.

*****

T HOM DREW MAE A BATH in the master bedroom, throwing a peach floral bath bomb in the tub.

He’d discovered the bath bombs after realizing that when Megan broke into his home, she must have planned a romantic evening for the two of them with the bath jets fizzing up some hot, steamy action.

The fairy hunter had also left a few candles, which he lit to add to the ambiance of relaxation for his stressed-out lady.

In his bedroom, he grabbed a pair of PJs and thick socks, leaving them in the bathroom as he went to the living room to collect Mae.

She sat on the couch, still in her overcoat, staring into the unlit fireplace.

She clutched her designer bag, still in some form of shock.

Thom extended his hand to her as she rose to her feet.

Down the hall, they walked hand in hand to the bathroom.

This was her first time in his bedroom and space, but her mind was elsewhere.

He spoke to her, and she only heard part of the words he said when he pointed to the pajamas, the thick socks, and the glass of wine.

He closed the bathroom door, leaving her alone as he went to prepare dinner.

Mae tested the temperature of the water with her fingertips, and found it to be perfect.

She undressed, slid into the warm, peach-scented water, reached for the glass, which she discovered was plastic, and took a sip of the wine.

Exhaling deeply, the knot in her stomach began to loosen as well as the tension in her shoulders.