Page 27 of No More Hiding

No, he didn’t steal more than Bernie Madoff did, but it was enough. Ten dollars was enough. Almost a billion over fifteen years was sickening. She could only imagine how much greater that number would have been had he not been caught.

She wasn’t even sure how he did get caught. She never wanted to read about it or find out.

She stayed away from the news and articles in her teen years.

Her grandparents didn’t talk about it either.

When kids at school made comments, it wasn’t about the details as much as her father being a thief.

No worries about that anymore. Instead, her mind was running all sorts of tasks that she needed to do while she’d painted and weeded. Now she was sweating and figured it’d be perfect to pressure wash the side of her house. The mist from the spray would cool her off and then she was going to go in and make some dinner and have a well-deserved glass of wine.

Her arms shaking, she knew she’d overdone the work when she heard a bark and turned.

There was Sammie pulling Brent across her yard. He had an embarrassed look on his face and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well, we know who rules the house between you two,” she said.

“Yeah,” he said. “Tell me about it. It’s bad enough she wants to wrestle with my pillow each night and now she is the one taking me for a walk.”

Vivian laughed, she couldn’t help picturing Sammie on the bed with Brent. Then her mind wondered what Brent slept in. Yeah, best not to go there.

What was it about this guy that was making her think things she hadn’t in so many years?

“Hi, Sammie,” she said, moving closer to the dog that was tugging her owner. “I can’t believe how big you’ve gotten in just one week.”

“I don’t see it as much,” he said, “but she sure does eat a lot.”

“I bet she does.” Vivian was squatting down and letting the puppy jump up and lick her. “Are you hot? Do you need water again? Your tongue is flopping everywhere.”

“I think her tongue is too big for her mouth,” he said. “It never stays in there.”

She giggled. “Maybe she’ll grow into it like she will her feet?”

“Who knows?” he said.

She walked over and got the hose again, turned it on and let Sammie drink like she did last time. “I need water. I’ve been working all day. Can I get you one?”

“Sure,” he said.

She went into the house and grabbed two bottles and returned to see Brent shutting her hose off. “Thanks,” she said.

“No reason to waste water when all Sammie wants to do is stomp her feet at it and bark.”

“To have that much energy,” she said.

“Something tells me you’ve got a lot. You work, what? Six days a week. Long hours too?”

“We open at nine and close at eight most nights. Earlier on Friday and Saturday. Some of the girls like to go out and have fun.”

“Not you?” he asked.

“I’ve got a house to care for,” she said. “I’m not the type to go to a bar for a drink where people don’t know me and want to start talking.”

“Talking,” he said with an exaggerated sigh. “That’s the best part about working by myself. The only voice I hear is my own. Sometimes I’ll say a few words to make sure my hearing is still there.”

She laughed, not expecting him to have such a good sense of humor. Not when the last time he’d made a comment about his mother being worried about him and the dog saving him.

“I talk all day long. I don’t mind it, but I suppose I do more listening than talking.”