Sean probably hadn’t wept buckets about that, she thought as she folded the shirt and put it in a basket.
“He avoids any kind of drama. Although I swear he’s paranoid about the smallest things sometimes.”
No shit storms. No drama. No questions. His refusal to take part in the Gettin’ Hitched reunion made perfect sense. That was going to be a shit storm of shit storms, and she wasn’t looking forward to it.
Shortly after Lexie finished folding clothes, Geraldine went to bed. Lexie stayed up making outlines and lists and possible Gettin’ Hitched scenarios. She fell asleep grumpy and got up cranky. Her eyes were hardly open a crack when she walked into her kitchen to the sight of Geraldine and the sound of her sputtering Keurig.
“What are we doing today?” Geraldine asked, all bright-eyed and happy.
“I have to pick up dog food.” Lexie scrubbed her eyes and she yawned. “It’s my donation day at the pet rescue downtown. I have to go to PetSmart, fill up the back of my car with food, and drop it off at the shelter where I adopted Yum Yum.” She yawned again and added, “It’s sad and I wish there was more I could do to help.”
“I have bursitis in my left shoulder, but I can lift with my right arm.”
Through the slits in her scratchy eyes, Lexie looked across at Sean’s mother and her flat bed head. At least the woman was off the couch. “I didn’t think you liked animals.”
Her bathrobe hung off the one skinny shoulder and she shrugged. “Maybe I like ’em. Last night, your little dog curled up next to my neck like a little heating pad and my fibromyalgia pain went right away.”
That’s where Yum Yum had disappeared. She should have guessed.
Geraldine’s nose wrinkled. “She kinda stinks though.”
“Just when she sweats.”
“I can’t help with only the one arm, though.”
Lexie had been kind of hoping to get a break from Geraldine. No such luck. Three hours later, and weighted down with hundreds of pounds of dry food, Lexie pulled to the back of the shelter and reversed to the door. Geraldine wore a shoulder sling to make sure no one accidentally mistook her for an able-bodied worker, and she instantly disappeared as the big bags of food were unloaded. Lexie didn’t need the help or want to be responsible for Geraldine accidentally contracting a rare and unidentifiable illness.
As she wheeled the last bag inside, she foun
d Geraldine sitting in a chair by one of the grooming stations, Buddy the three-legged bichon frise curled up in her lap. Two-year-old Buddy had been found on the 405, his right front leg so mangled there had been no choice but to amputate. Lexie had sponsored his care and rehab, and he was well enough now to find a special home.
“She’s soft.” Geraldine’s free hand stroked his fur.
They made quite the picture. A disabled dog and a hypochondriac. “His name is Buddy.” No one knew his real name, but everyone at the shelter had started calling him that because he got along so well with other dogs.
“He’s hot with all that hair.”
“That’s because he has a dense coat and doesn’t shed much, like a poodle. He’s hypoallergenic and . . .” He needed a more subdued family where he didn’t have to run around a lot. “Buddy is a special-needs dog.” Maybe Geraldine could benefit from thinking about something other than herself all the time. Lexie knelt on one knee beside the chair. “He’s a sweet boy and never smells when he sweats.” She smiled and told a little fib. “He’s a therapy dog. In training.”
“How about that.”
Lexie sat on a love seat made from a claw-foot bathtub. Now cut in half, it was tricked out in a coat of red paint and outfitted with tuck-and-roll leopard cushions. The rest of the Gettin’ Hitched set had been shipped to the Fairmont, and the ballroom now resembled the inside of a barn, complete with the tractor they’d all climbed down from on the first episode. A small studio audience sat on bleachers behind the cameras, blacked out of sight from the stage.
The show had been taping for several segments before Lexie was brought out and shown her place on the love seat. She wore a cobalt turtleneck dress that clung to her like a second skin and blue suede heels. The perfect touch of modest and sexy. Of class and in-your-face sensuality.
Across the stage, the more memorable members of the cast sat on hay bales while the hostess of the show, Jemma Monaco from The Young and the Restless, sat on a leather buggy seat on Lexie’s left. The wheelbarrow chair where Pete sat while Lexie had been backstage was empty. For now. Lexie would have to face him on camera, but the hitchin’ brides wanted a piece of her first.
“Welcome Lexie to the show,” hostess Jemma Monaco greeted after the light on the main camera turned green. The audience alternately booed and cheered, but Lexie couldn’t see them so they were easy to ignore.
“Thank you.”
“Have you brought the infamous Yum Yum with you?”
Yum Yum was curled into Lexie’s lap and shook from nerves. “Yes. She’s a little shy.” Lexie pulled one side of her long hair behind her shoulder and ran a soothing palm down her dog’s back. “She’ll warm up in a few minutes.” She looked across the stage at the ten or so of the hitchin’ brides poised on bales of hay. They all looked cleaned up and polished for the show. They wore stilettos, short skirts, and phony smiles with nasty intentions. Lexie almost felt bad that they had to have itchy hay up their butts. Almost but not quite. During the first segments, she’d sat in her dressing room while Pete and the women had really piled on the insults.
“What is your dog wearing?” The tone of Jemma’s voice implied that she might not be on board with animal couture.
“A blue dress and white pinafore from my Alice in Wonderglam collection.” The mumblings from the hay bales across the set made her smile. “She loves the little bow in her hair,” she said, and adjusted the ribbon on top of her dog’s head. “It’s sold out online.” Which was thankfully true. “We’re taking preorders and hope it will be back in stock for the grand opening of my Bellevue store in two weeks. We’d love to have everyone stop in.”