Pamela Morsi Read Online Free PDF Page A

your first morning in town certainly calls for a celebration,” Viv told her as she made her way up to the porch. “And I just love a relaxed morning visit.”
    D.J. had thought that the two were surely visited out.
    Last night as she’d unloaded her possessions, Viv had seemed eager to help her unpack. Even after D.J. had very sternly refused the help, she’d come back a half hour later with dinner on a tray.
    D.J. was too much of an introvert to find that comfortable. She hadn’t shared living space since her best friend, Terri, got married. The idea of Mrs. Sanderson as constant companion was a nonstarter. No reason to even bother unpacking. She wouldn’t be here that long.
    And she was determined to be straight about that right up front, she decided as she got the woman a cup of coffee. By the time D.J. returned, Viv was already seated at the little teak table. Dew was perched with his front paws up on the chair wearing his I’m-too-cute-to-resist-me look. Mrs. Sanderson was trying to feed him a popover. He was dutifully sniffing at it, but showing no particular interest.
    “He doesn’t eat table food. He doesn’t like it,” D.J. told her, adding, “Get down, Dew.”
    The dog immediately complied.
    “Do?” Viv chuckled. “Is that the puppy’s name? As in do-do? You did say he’s housebroken...”
    “Absolutely,” D.J. assured her. “It’s actually Dew as in Dewey Decimal System. My friends always kid me that I’m ‘married to the public library.’ So I decided to name ‘my only child’ after his father.”
    D.J. patted her lap and her very well-behaved bundle of energy jumped up and took a seat.
    “Mrs. Sanderson, I’d like you to formally introduce you to Melvil Dewey, Jr.”
    Viv laughed. “He is charming,” she said. “My son, Scott, had a cocker spaniel when he was a boy. What do you do with him while you’re a work?”
    “Oh, he just hangs around the house. Typically I race home on my lunch break to walk him.”
    “No need to do that,” Viv said. “I’m here anyway. I’d be happy to take him for a walk.”
    “Mrs. Sanderson,” she began to protest. Then seeing the words forming on the woman’s lips, she corrected herself. “Viv.”
    The landlady smiled, pleased.
    “You don’t need to do that. I know there will be lots to do at the library, but I can take care of my own dog.”
    “Of course you can,” Viv said. “But I’m out walking every day anyway. I might as well take Mr. Dewey along with me. If only for my own protection.” She added the last with a grin.
    Dew rose up on his paws in D.J.’s lap and began wagging his tail as if he knew that he was the subject of attention.
    “See,” Viv pointed out. “He loves the idea!”
    D.J. acquiesced with reluctance.
    “I’ll leave his leash by the back door,” she said. “I guess you have a key to my apartment?”
    Viv nodded and then directed her response to Dew. “We’re going to be such friends, you and I.”
    D.J. carefully gathered up her thoughts. This woman was her landlady and, in a large sense, her boss. She was not a roommate or a best friend.
    “Viv, I think I must be blunt about this,” she said. “I am a very private person. I’ve been accustomed to living on my own. I don’t mean to be unfriendly, but...”
    “Oh, honey, I understand perfectly,” Viv answered. “A woman definitely needs her own space. I was young myself once. And I have a daughter of my own.”
    “Do you?”
    “Yes. She’s my eldest. Married to a nice man and living in Kansas City. She teaches drama, of all things. I told her it was a vocation she’s been cultivating since birth. No child was ever more dramatic about everything than my lovely Leanne. My husband John used to say it was like living with Norma Desmond. She came down the stairs every day ‘looking for her close-up, Mr. DeMille.’”
    D.J. felt herself being charmed by Viv’s obvious delight in her children. Her own parents had never seemed to have any opinion