I wanted to chat, but I also had work to do. "Let me grab some chicken noodle soup, and I'll be right back."

  By the time I'd added soup, crackers, and apple juice to my basket, Mr. Markle was straightening the produce aisle. "I'm glad you're pleased about Borman taking back his offer."

  "I've got a few more years to work. Just as soon do it here."

  "And we need those bent cans."

  THE TWINS WERE IN FULL antic mode when I picked them up at two-forty-five. With a serious face, Lance asked, "Guess what?"

  "What?"

  "Chicken butt." He and Leah dissolved into fits of laughter, doubled over in their car seats.

  I've learned smiling is good, but if I laugh too hard I hear a joke for a week. "Where did you hear that?"

  "Lance thought of it," Leah said.

  I glanced in the rearview mirror. Lance's knitted brow said he had told her that but was trying to decide if he should tell me something different.

  He punted. "What else rhymes with butt?"

  "What about shut?" Leah asked.

  "That's good. What do you call a small house? A really small one."

  That stumped them for almost minute. "Lester sells small houses. You could ask him," Lance said.

  I grinned. "Keep trying."

  In the mirror, I saw Leah sounding out words. "I know. I know. A small house is a hut!"

  "Very good. Now what about…"

  "What's smut?" Lance asked.

  Oh, good. "Where'd you hear that word?"

  Leah answered. "Monica said her mom got rid of smut magazines she found under her brother's bed."

  I sighed. "It just means Monica's mom didn't like what he was reading."

  "What was he reading?" Lance asked.

  Please let distraction work. "When Daddy gets home, you can take the dogs for a walk today."

  "Let's go to the park," Leah said.

  "No, the corner where we can count trucks," Lance countered.

  I let them battle that for the next couple of minutes. When we got near the house, Scoobie pulled into the driveway ahead of me. Whew.

  He came over to help me unload the kids. Leah gave him a sloppy kiss and handed him a broken red crayon. At least it hadn't melted in her car seat.

  "Daddy," Lance said, "we're talking to Mommy about smut."

  Scoobie's broad grin didn't require words.

  WITH THE TWINS FINALLY sleeping, Scoobie and I planned to change clothes and go to the courthouse with Aunt Madge and Harry to watch election returns. Terry said he'd heard enough about campaigns, so we didn't need to pay for a sitter.

  For a change, I was ready before Scoobie. I heard him upstairs talking to Terry, and wondered if Terry had asked him the same question he'd put to me earlier today.

  I straightened a pile of the kids' books that sat next to the couch and found a small piece of broccoli next to the toy box. On top of the closed box was a piece of white copy paper.

  Studying can help in the test of life.

  Success can be measured in lack of strife.

  Is it who you are or what you do?

  It's about who you love, I know that, too.

  Scoobie

  I swallowed and reached for a tissue to blow my nose. I am so lucky. I placed the paper back on the box for now.

  Scoobie ran lightly down the steps and sat on the couch. He patted a spot next to him, and I crossed the room to sit there. We leaned back, holding hands, and placed our feet on the coffee table.

  After about a minute of sitting with our eyes closed, recharging, I traced the side of his cheek. "Thank you for the poem."

  He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. "I still can't believe you'd risk what we have, but I know you don't see it that way."

  "I didn't, but I'll be more careful."

  He turned his head to me. "Did you almost say 'next time?'"

  I laughed. "I did not."

  We were quiet again, until I said, "It's been a heck of a couple weeks, hasn't it?"

  He nodded. "I think it's ending okay. And my wife is even alive." He stood and walked to the backpack he used for work and removed a piece of folded paper.

  I took it. The copy of Scoobie's letter of reprimand had the word 'rescinded' written across it in large, red letters.

  My eyes began to tear. "How?"

  He sat next to me and took the paper back. "Sam gave it to me. I guess he pushed it with human resources, said if there were a couple of complaints he wanted to see them. Suddenly no one could find them."

  I wiped away a tear. "So, you won't have to look for a job?"

  "Nope. Ocean Alley is our home as long as we want it to be."

  I didn't realize how much I dreaded the possibly of having to leave until the feeling vanished.

  I leaned over and kissed him. "The next mayor will be happy about that, too."

  BOOKS BY ELAINE L. ORR

  Elaine’s books are generally self-published, via Lifelong Dreams Publishing. The books are on all e retailer sites, and can be ordered by your local bookstore or library. Most books are in ebooks, paperbacks, large print version, and audio books. Thanks for your interest!

  Jolie Gentil Cozy Mystery Series

  Appraisal for Murder

  Rekindling Motives

  When the Carny Comes to Town

  Any Port in a Storm

  Trouble on the Doorstep

  Behind the Walls

  Vague Images

  Ground to a Halt

  Holidays in Ocean Alley

  The Unexpected Resolution

  Underground in Ocean Alley

  Jolie and Scoobie High School Misadventures (prequel)

  River’s Edge Mystery Series

  (Annie Acorn Publishing)

  From Newsprint to Footprints

  Demise of a Devious Neighbor

  Demise of a Devious Suspect (summer 2018)

  Logland Mystery Series

  Tip a Hat to Murder

  http://www.elaineorr.com

  ABOUT ELAINE L. ORR

  Elaine L. Orr is the Amazon bestselling author of the Jolie Gentil cozy mystery series. Behind the Walls was a finalist for the 2014 Chanticleer Mystery and Mayhem Awards. The first book in her River's Edge series, From Newsprint to Footprints, came out in late 2015, and the Logland series began with Tip a Hat to Murder in 2016. Demise of a Devious Neighbor, the second River's Edge book, was a Chanticleer finalist in 2017.

  She also writes plays and novellas, including the one-act play, Common Ground published in 2015. Her novella, Falling into Place, tells the story of a family managing the results of an Iowa father’s World War II experience with humor and grace. Another novella, Biding Time, was one of five finalists in the National Press Club's first fiction contest, in 1993.

  Elaine conducts presentations and teaches online classes on book publishing and other writing-related topics. Nonfiction includes Writing in Retirement: Putting New Year's Resolutions to Work, and Words to Write By: Getting Your Thoughts on Paper. Elaine grew up in Maryland and moved to the Midwest in 1994.

  She graduated from the University of Dayton and the American University. She took fiction courses from The Writer's Center in Bethesda, MD, the University of Iowa Summer Writing Festival, and Georgetown University's Continuing Education Program. Elaine is a regular attendee at Magna Cum Murder. She is a member of Sisters in Crime and the Indiana Writers’ Center.

 

 

  Elaine L. Orr, Underground in Ocean Alley

 

 

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