Must Love Flowers(32)

“I didn’t get outside much,” Joan admitted. Like hardly ever. No reason to venture out, certainly not during the pandemic. All that had changed since her birthday, and she was glad of it.

“What about naming him Oliver?” Todd said.

Joan considered his suggestion and then shook her head. “He doesn’t look like an Oliver to me. I’ll come up with a name soon.” She’d need to; otherwise, the poor puppy would suffer an identity crisis.

“He’s rowdy. You could name him that.”

“Rowdy?” Joan mulled it over in her mind. That might work.

“That’s what Mom calls me,” Todd informed her.

“Well, you are,” his sister concurred.

A harried-looking woman came down the sidewalk as if on a search. The baby on her hip gripped hold of the neckline of her blouse as if she needed to anchor herself. The woman paused when she saw Ellie and Todd sitting on the grass with Joan standing nearby.

“What are you doing here?” she asked her children, clearly frustrated. “You know you’re supposed to come directly home from the bus stop.”

“Mom, look. She has a puppy.” Todd leaped to his feet and Ellie followed. No Name stretched his tiny body up against Todd’s leg as if he wanted the boy to pick him up for more cuddling time.

Joan knew where the children got their red hair, although their mother’s was more auburn than red. The baby on her hip sucked on a pacifier. “I apologize if they were bothering you.”

“Not in the least,” Joan assured her. “They’re helping me name my dog. Your children are welcome to stop by anytime.”

“That’s more than kind of you. I’m Kylie Pursell and I can see you’ve already met Ellie and Todd.”

“Joan Sample. I’m pleased to meet you, Kylie.”

“I best get these ragamuffins home.”

“ ’Bye, Joan,” Ellie said, as she left the yard. “Let me know what you decide to name No Name.”

“Will do,” she promised.

Once back inside the house, Joan set No Name in his crate. Maggie was due back anytime. The girl certainly lived a busy life between school and two jobs. Joan couldn’t help but admire her determination to succeed. The day before, she’d gotten word that one of the scholarships she’d applied for had been awarded to a classmate. While discouraged, Maggie had been happy for her friend. When Joan questioned her about it, Maggie said there were still three other scholarships available that she had yet to receive word on. Instead of feeling depressed and unhappy, she looked at the bright side. Joan admired the young woman’s positive attitude.

It was time to think about what to make for dinner. Joan retrieved her most trusted cookbook for ideas. Seeing what a lovely afternoon it’d turned out to be, she was thinking of something light. One of her favorite summertime meals had always been soup and/or a salad. She flipped to the soup recipe she had flagged. Homemade tomato soup. Incredible how simple the recipe was.

She’d assembled the ingredients on the kitchen counter when the front door opened.

“I’m back,” Maggie said, unnecessarily. She joined Joan in the kitchen.

“How was your day?” Joan asked, as she brought out the kettle. “I hope you like tomato soup.”

“I do.”

“Toasted cheese?”

“Perfect. But you don’t need—”

“Maggie,” Joan chastised, “we’ve already been over this. I enjoy cooking, and sharing the meal with you gives me an excuse to do what I enjoy. I get no pleasure from eating alone. Besides, we make a good team. I cook and you clean up after me.”

“It’s the least I can do.” Maggie opened the refrigerator and brought out a pitcher of iced tea. “Is your meeting tonight?”

Joan groaned inwardly. “Don’t remind me.” In a moment of weakness, she’d shared her reluctance to attend this grief therapy session with Maggie. She’d hoped Maggie would side with her. Instead, her boarder had encouraged her to make the most of it.

“It’s just the one time,” Maggie reminded her. “If you don’t like it, then there’s no obligation to return. Isn’t that what you said?”

“Yes,” Joan muttered, although she’d already made up her mind.

Taking a glass of the iced tea, Maggie went over to the crate to remove No Name. She set him in her lap, and the puppy licked her arm. “Have you decided on a name yet?”

“Not yet. A couple of the kids from the neighborhood stopped by and gave me a few ideas, but none of them seemed to fit.”

“He’s so darn cute.”

“You know, I was dead set against having a dog. I didn’t want him when Nick dropped him off. I tried to tell him to take him away, but Nick refused to listen. I’m grateful he didn’t. That little puppy has added light to my life.”

Maggie’s head shot up. “Light,” she repeated slowly, and then nibbled on her lower lip as if mulling over an idea. “What about naming him Edison, the inventor of the lightbulb.”

Joan paused and set the can of crushed tomatoes down on the counter as she turned. “Edison,” she repeated slowly. “I like it.” Walking over to where Maggie sat with the puppy in her lap, Joan placed her hand on his head. “I hereby dub you Edison, companion of light to Joan Sample.”