Chapter Eleven
“I don’t have to give you a reason, George. I’ve changed my mind. I am not selling. No, no, and no. I have two grandchildren who may have inherited their mother’s reporter instincts. They might need a job. What kind of grandmother would I be if I snatched the opportunity away from them before they even had a chance to decide if it’s what they want to do professionally? So, there you have my answer. No, I will not be selling the Informer anytime soon.” Toots hung up the phone.
“Are you sure you want to keep it?” Phil asked her.
“Yes, I’m sure. Josh is doing a fantastic job running the rag, so as long as I own the place, I get first dibs on the papers. Did I ever tell you how I used to hoard the papers, then read them from cover to cover every Friday night while I soaked in my Jacuzzi tub?”
Phil held Frankie in his lap. “I think you forgot to mention that story.”
Toots laughed. “I’m not that woman now. Though I still like to read the tabloids, I don’t have time to devote an entire evening to them. I have grandchildren, and Abby, and Chris. The Canine Café. The Sweetest Things, and Jamie. I have friends that I love more than you can imagine. I’m so blessed. What more could I possibly need?”
Since Sophie had given her house and Ida the all-clear sign, they were all giddy for one reason or another. Bernice and Robert were so excited over their upcoming marriage that Toots accused them of acting like virgins. They all laughed, even Robert, who’d mellowed out just a tiny bit.
“I know something you don’t have, Toots,” Phil said. He held little Frankie in his lap, rubbing the top of his head. This pooch had played an important role in bringing them together, and Phil thought it only fair that he was here with them to share his news with Toots.
“You do? What would that be? I have so much, Phil, really. I want for nothing.” Toots’s words were sincere; she meant everything she said.
Phil stood up, taking Frankie off his lap and adjusting the pooch in his arms so that he was comfortable. “You don’t have one of these.” He lifted Frankie high in the air.
“But I thought you said Frankie belonged to both of us. You’re taking him to New York with you, aren’t you?” Toots’s eyes pooled with tears. Just when life was nearly perfect, he had to ruin it.
“Toots, what are you talking about?” Phil asked.
“Frankie. You’re holding him in the air like he’s a prize, which we both know that he is, but I thought we were sort of sharing him. Co-owners.”
Phil burst out laughing. “Come here. I want you to pet Frankie one more time.”
Toots’s heart sped up. “What do you mean ‘one more time’?”
Hating Phil right now more than he could possibly imagine, Toots still loved Frankie, and if this was the last time she was going to get to love on him, then she was going to take full advantage of the situation. “Let me hold him.”
Phil gently passed the little weenie dog to her. Frankie growled. Toots rubbed him between the ears, then turned him over to tickle his soft little belly. “What is this?” A small white square was taped to his belly. “What’s wrong with you, Phil?” Toots carefully removed the white square from Frankie’s belly. He growled again.
“Here, boy,” Phil said, handing the little pooch a handful of treats.
“Open it, Toots.”
“This?” She held out the small white square.
“Yes, that.”
Toots used her fingernail as a letter opener. Surely this isn’t what she thought. She looked up at Phil, who wore a grin the size of Earth. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
She needed a minute to reroute her thoughts. This path hadn’t been opened for a long, long time. Suddenly, she felt like she’d been wrapped up in a silken cocoon of euphoria. “I’m stunned. I had no idea.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“So now that you have an idea?”
Toots chuckled. “Well, that’s for me to know and for you to find out.”
“Woof!” Frankie’s bark was so unexpectedly loud, they both jumped.
“It’s beautiful, Phil, but I don’t know . . .”
He placed a finger over her lips. “You don’t have to answer me now. We’ve got plenty of time.”
“I hate to remind you but we’re both over seventy. I’m not sure that constitutes plenty of time. Of course, you being a doctor, and me being a smoker, it’s only logical that you would have more time than I do.”
“If you say so,” Phil teased. “So, Toots, what do you think? Can you wear that diamond ring on your left hand?”
She took such a deep breath she got light-headed. “You realize I’ve walked down that aisle more than a time or two, right?”
“And that’s supposed to matter because . . . ?”
“Eight times, Phil. E-I-G-H-T.” She spelled the number out for him.
“That was in your past. I’m interested in your future.”
Toots wanted a cigarette so badly she would have smoked a Camel unfiltered if she had one. “What about your book? What about the book-launch party, the second book, then the movie? You’ll have to relocate to New York or California.”
“You’re not making sense. I canceled the book-launch party. You want to know why?”
She nodded.
“They asked me what I wanted, and I told them I’d rather they donate the money to the Animal Specialty Hospital in Naples. They saved Frankie’s life, and you saved mine.”
“You’re truly serious?”
“More so than I’ve ever been in my life.”
“Okay then, well, I’ll have to . . . Bernice and Robert. Shit. Forget that.” Toots was so tongue-tied she made absolutely no sense at all.
“Will you marry me, Teresa Amelia Loudenberry?”