I got rid of that horrid bedspread she gave me.â
âThe green one?â
âI called it the Rambo spread. It was supposed to be a floral pattern, but it looked like camouflage.â
âWhatâll you tell Mom when she comes back for a visit?â
âThat I wore a hole in it having hot sex with all my lovers.â
Laura gave a horrified laugh. âYou are so bad.â
âNot nearly as bad as Marsha thinks I am.â Etta sighed. âIf only I were having that much fun. Itâs so nice having them down in Florida. She calls me once a week, and we have a nice little chat. She asks questions, I tell her what she wants to hear, and she never gets in a dither.â
As much as Laura loved her mother, she knew exactly what her grandmother meant. Marsha Townsend was a wonderful woman, but she had a tendency to micromanage other peopleâs lives. Laura didnât miss all the hovering, and if she never had to take another brain-enhancement herbal supplement, it would be too soon. Her mom still sent her bottles of pillsâall the old standbys and any-thing new that promised to work a miracleâbut now Laura could just toss them in the trash.
The click of Ettaâs cigarette lighter came over the line. âSo how are you this morning? Still nervous about the job?â
âVery,â Laura confessed. âIâm afraid Iâll mess up.â
âSweetheart, youâre so good with animals. Youâre going to be the best kennel keeper theyâve ever had. Trust me on this. Sweet old grannies know about these things.â
Lauraâs sweet old granny slept in lacy teddies, one a mind-boggling hot pink. Sheâd also dated four different men in the last six months, all of them over a decade younger than she was.
âThereâs going to be a lot for me to learn,â Laura reminded her.
âYou can handle it.â
âI hope so.â Laura tucked the phone under her chin so she could take another sip of coffee. The sun had risen higher in the sky, and the light coming at an angle through the trees dappled the blue-gray highway with splashes of gold and shadow. âItâll be fun to have a real job again.â
âIâm so happy for you, honey.â
âIâm happy for me, too. I just hope it all works out.â
âIt will. No son of Mary Coulterâs can be any-thing but wonderful. She is such a lovely person. What do you think of Isaiah, by the way? We were so busy talking about the job last night that you never said much about him.â
An image of Isaiahâs dark, chiseled features flashed in Lauraâs mind. On a handsomeness scale of one to ten, he was clear off the chart, one of the most attractive men she had ever seen. âWell, I can say his name. Thatâs a big plus. âAphasiaâ and âIsaiahâ are sort of alike.â
âAnd thatâs it?â Etta asked incredulously. âYou can say his name?â
âHeâs nice,â Laura expounded.
â Nice? Oh, come on. Iâve seen that young man. Only from a distance, mind you, but even then he packed a wallop. Made me wish I were fifty years younger.â
âHeâs my boss, Gram.â
âMeaning what, exactly?â
âNo drooling allowed.â
âSo you do think heâs cute.â
Cute was not the word Laura would have chosen to describe Isaiah Coulter. Rumpled sable hair, a devastating grin that was impossible to resist, and sizzling sky-blue eyes that made her skin tingle every time he looked at her. It had been a very long time since she had felt even mildly attracted to a member of the opposite sexâover five years, in factâand even then her heart hadnât thudded against her ribs like a hard rubber ball bouncing down ladder rungs.
âHeâs a vet, Gram. He probâly makes more money in a month than I do in a year.â
â Pro-ba-bly, â Etta corrected.