Vegas Knot (✔️) | Love Travels #1

Thirty-Five

Carla is on the phone with me Tuesday afternoon discussing the details of where I live and how she's going to get here. But she got distracted asking me how my husband was doing. I don't even get the whole story out before she screams at me, "You did what?"

"I kissed him?" I repeat. "What part of that was unclear to you?"

"Well you never told me! How long ago was it that we were on that tour outside Vegas and you still didn't tell me you kissed your husband!"

"Carla, can you lower your voice just a decibel or two? I'd like to keep my hearing."

"That's long gone. Lorena blasted it out weeks ago in that limo."

"Still," I press. "Please."

"Fine, is that better?" She's practically whispering.

"You can talk at a normal volume, just don't try to shout so loud I can hear you without the phone."

"Fine. So you kissed your husband before Divya's wedding and—"

"Carla, I just told you this."

"I wanted to hear you say it again."

"I kissed him again last night. Are you happy?"

"Very. What happened? Were you being cute and stuff?"

"He brought home flowers after work and it was late and I was tired but he was so adorable so I just stood on my tiptoes and kissed him."

"Awe," she sighs into the phone. "True love right in front of me. It's like a fairytale."

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Carla. I just exploded a stuffed chicken breast, so it isn't exactly domestic bliss."

"I'm not one to judge about burnt food," she says. "So, can you tell me again—"

I don't hear the rest of what she says because someone is knocking our front door off its hinges.

The phone lays abandoned on the couch and I pace the floor, debating what to do if there's a literal bear at the door. My heart is in my throat when I finally round the last corner and can see through the opaque glass that lines the side of the door. It's definitely not a bear. It's a person.

A few tentative steps forward and it's obvious that Maeve is the culprit banging down the front door.

"I'll be right there," I call out. "One moment."

"I need help," she shouts again. "I locked my keys in the house."

The deadbolt barely twists in my fingers, but I finally get it unlocked and Maeve tumbles through the door into a small heap on the floor.

"Are you all right?" I bend down to help her up. "What's wrong?"

"I'm fine. Yes, I'm fine. Close the door dear or Charles will get out."

There they go with Charles again. I actually haven't lost anything in a couple days, but I close the door to appease her as she continues telling her story.

"I was cooking and I went outside for some herbs. I keep them on my back porch, you see. And I can't figure out how I did it but when I went back, my door was locked. And Cogg is in there alone with the oven on. That cat and ovens don't mix. So you see I have to get back in fast."

"Of course. What can I do? Do you need a phone?" I have no idea where I left my phone, only that Carla is probably still calling out for me. Oops.

"Why would I need a phone? No! I need the keys!"

This woman is not thinking straight. "I don't have your keys, Maeve."

"Yes, you do. They're in the kitchen above the fridge marked with my name."