The Babbling Brook Naked Poker Club - Book One (33 page)

All you have to do is go to my
website
and sign up for my
mailing
list
.

Signing up (which is super easy and doesn’t require levitation)
means you will receive a newsletter that will include insider
information about my writing process, the stories behind the
stories, new release notifications, special offers, and
recommendations of books I think you may also enjoy.

Comments from subscribers:

LOVE the newsletter. Keep them coming…
— J. Close

It was lovely to read about how you wrote the Peruvian parts of
Counterpointe
.
— J. Townsend

Great newsletter—great idea and very nicely done.
— R.
Collins

One more thing before you go…

If you enjoyed
The Babbling Brook Naked Poker Club – Book
One
, please mention the novel to friends who like to read. You
may also lend this book to a friend since it is
lending-enabled.

I love hearing from readers. Contact me through my
website
or
Facebook
page

The Babbling Brook
Naked Poker Club – Book Two

Now Available in Print and Electronic
editions

Josephine, Devi, and Mac’s story continues. Devi and Mac are
falling in love, but a complication comes along in the form of
Mac’s pregnant ex-wife. As for Josephine, with the excitement of
unmasking the Brookside thief and Devi’s being shot behind her,
she’s finding Brookside Retirement Community (aka Babbling Brook)
as dull as she initially expected it to be. Until, that is, she
gets involved with a man who suspects her of being a criminal
mastermind. Finding love is something Josephine never expected as
her Edward Hopper painting plays matchmaker.

Chapter One

Devi

Although I’m much improved since I was shot, I still tire easily,
and a trip to the Cincinnati airport to drop off my parents
exhausted me. They came to stay when I was released from the
hospital, but they’re both professors at the University of Kansas
and they needed to get back for the start of the new semester. Mom
said the only reason she felt okay about leaving me was that she
knew I had Mac to watch over me.

I took a nap in the afternoon, but I was
still feeling draggy when Mac arrived from work, carrying take-out
and a bottle of champagne. It was as much New Year’s Eve
celebrating as either of us thought I could manage.

He set the bag and bottle on the counter
then hugged me carefully. “Did you get any rest today?”

“A little. I doubt I’ll make it to midnight
though.”

“That’s okay. The only new years I seem to
usher in anymore are when I have to work a late shift.”

“Good. I’m glad to know you aren’t rigid in
your holiday observances.”

Mac’s full name is Darren McElroy, and he’s
a detective on the Montgomery, Ohio police force. There’s a lot we
don’t yet know about each other, but we’re working on it.

We ate the food he brought, and then I moved
to the couch and continued to sip my one glass of champagne while
he washed dishes. When he finished, he came to sit beside me. His
arm curved around me, and I leaned my head on his shoulder.

“I’ve been wanting to ask you something,” he
said.

“You’ve been asking me lots of things
lately.” I yawned from the effects of the champagne on top of the
trip to the airport.

“I know I have. But there’s something we
haven’t talked about yet. And it’s maybe premature to bring this
up. But . . . ”

“What is it?”

I felt him pull in a deep breath then
release it. “Kids,” he said.

My own breath stuttered. I’d been dreading
the kids question, although I knew it was coming. Had to come. And
it was better to face it sooner rather than later, although it was
already too late for me not to have my heart broken if it was a
deal-breaker for Mac.

I swallowed. “What about them?”

“How do you feel about them? Do you want
any?”

Closing my eyes, I shuddered. “I’m sorry,
Mac. I should have told you . . . ”

He shifted until he could look at me. But I
couldn’t face him. I buried my head more deeply in his
shoulder.

“I . . . I can’t have children. The bullet .
. . it did too much damage, and I . . . ”

His arm tightened around me, and I held my
breath waiting for his response, struggling to focus on the steady
beating of his heart.

“I’m so sorry, Devi. I expect you wanted
them, didn’t you.”

The tears I was trying to hold back slid
down my cheek. No matter how grateful I am to be alive or how happy
I am that Mac and I found each other, everything hurts when I
remember the surgeon delivering a full accounting of my injuries.
He said I’d eventually be as good as new, except for residual
twinges that might last for months, and, oh, by the way, I would
never have a child.

Every time I let myself think about that, I
picture Mac with his neighbor Teddy. Teddy is five and has Down
Syndrome, and Mac clearly loves him. From the first time I saw them
together, I could tell Mac would be an exceptional father.

He kissed the top of my head. “It’s okay,
love. I only asked because . . . ” He stopped, and I waited. “You
see my wife and I . . . ex-wife. She wanted kids so badly, that
when it didn’t happen . . . she . . . ” He heaved in a breath. “And
I wasn’t sure I could deal with that again. But if you wanted . . .
Anyway, you need to know, it’s okay. Not having any.”

I pushed myself upright and stared at him.
This was the first time he’d said anything that sounded real about
why his marriage failed. When I’d asked, he’d said only that Lisa
had a hard time being a cop’s wife, and it caused them to grow
apart. But this . . . this had to be the real reason. And it was
huge.

“If you both wanted kids so much, why didn’t
you adopt?”

“Lisa didn’t want to adopt.”

“What about you? How do you feel about
adoption?”

“Lisa was so set against it, I didn’t give
it much thought.”

I settled back against his shoulder, shaken
at the bleak look I’d seen on his face.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. And what an odd
reversal that was . . . this conversation ending with me consoling
him, instead of him consoling me.

His arm tightened around me, and we didn’t
talk at all for a while. Eventually I asked him what his favorite
color was. He said purple. And when he asked me in turn, I replied
that mine was turquoise. We continued to talk about mundane things
for a while, although every few minutes, we’d stop talking and kiss
instead. Some where in the middle of either talking or kissing, I
fell asleep.

I awakened deep in the night to find Mac’s
arm still around me and Mac himself sound asleep.

Feeling safe and cherished, I fell back to
sleep myself.

Chapter Two

Josephine

Devi and Mac arrived for dinner New Year’s Day, both of them with
flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, either from the bitter cold or
from inner warmth, and I’d put my money on the latter.

They weren’t making any announcements yet,
but Lill and I had no doubts they would be soon. Clearly, they were
in love, and it did my heart good to see it.

After we were seated and passing food
around, Devi turned to me. “Hey, Lillian tells me the man who’s
filling in for me is single. And attractive.” Devi is the associate
activities director here at Brookside Retirement Community. But
while she’s recovering from being shot, a temporary replacement has
been hired. “And an art lover. You two should have a lot in
common.”

I glared at Lill who looked serenely back.
“Now that you and Mac are settled,” I told Devi, “Lill’s got time
on her hands, and she’s using it to interfere in my life.”

Devi looked startled, but Mac grinned.

“Well,” Lill said. “I say Josephine better
get on the stick and sign up for an activity or two before Myrtle
stakes a claim. You know that Myrtle. She’s been in a dreadful
tizzy since Norman showed up. Heard the hussy say she thinks he’s
as dreamy as Harrison Ford.”

“Hmmph.” In my opinion, the words dreamy and
Harrison Ford did belong in the same sentence. “Myrtle can stake
all she wants. I’m not interested. Anymore than you’d be if someone
dreamy
like Denzel Washington took over planning our
activities.”

“Don’t know about that. Mm mm. If someone
who looked like Denzel was doing the planning, I do believe I’d be
doing the activying.” Lill, who turned sideways would nearly
disappear, treated us to that deep rich chuckle of hers.

“Oh, let Myrtle have her fun.”

“Myrtle and Norman . . . has a nice ring to
it, don’t you think?” Lill said, winking at Devi. “I suspect Bertie
will be back on the market soon.”

That made me snort, and it’s a good thing I
wasn’t sipping wine; I could have aspirated. “What a shame, Bertie
being the catch he is.” Bertie has been the target of Myrtle’s
romantic attentions up to now, and I’m tired of hearing about it
even if Lill isn’t.

Lill giggled, sounding for a moment seventy
years younger than her eighty-two years. And I may be twelve years
younger, but I have to work to keep up with her.

“You do realize, Josephine. If Myrtle turns
Norman into her toy boy, we’ll never hear the end of it.”

Toy boy?
I didn’t know Lill even knew
the term. “Oh, well. My loss. I have no interest in meeting another
. . . art lover. Hasn’t art gotten us all into enough trouble?”

“That wasn’t art’s fault,” Mac said. He and
Devi had been watching the volleys between Lill and me with
increasing mirth.

“No, of course not,” I said. “You know,
speaking of art . . . I’ve had a thought.”

“That’s dangerous territory for you,
Josephine,” Mac said. “Or if not for you, for the rest of us. Leads
to all sorts of mayhem. Not to mention extra paperwork for me.”

“But you have to admit, Darren McElroy,
without Lill and me, you never would have caught the Brookside
thief.” Which was rather a high falutting way of referring to Edna
Prisant.

“I’m willing to concede that,” Mac said. “As
long as you and Lillian agree to retire from crime fighting.”

I sighed. “I don’t think we have much
choice. Nothing else is happening. It’s dreadfully boring.”

“Which is precisely why you need something .
. . or someone to spice up your life,” Lill said. “And I believe
Norman’s just the ticket. Besides, he’s interested in you.”

“What I want to know is why on earth someone
named Neumann would saddle their child with a name like
Norman?”

“No accounting for white folks,” Lill said
with an arch look. “Present company excepted.” Lill likes to tease
that she and I are Brookside Retirement Community’s yin and yang.
Or, as she dubs it, The Babbling Brook Retirement Community in
honor of the missing brook and some of the present annoying
residents. I retort that instead of the black and the white, we’re
the black and the gray, and that always makes her laugh.

“You know, Josephine, as improved as Devi’s
looking, you need to get moving before Norman leaves.”

Devi leaned her chin on her hand and stared
at Lill. “What makes you think Norman might be interested in
Josephine?”

“Because he’s come up to me several times to
chat.”

“Well that’s certainly a dead give-away,” I
said.

“He’s noticed we’re friends, and since
you’ve been avoiding him, he figures on getting to you through
me.”

“Really, Lill? That’s what you think? Here’s
what I think. He’s heard the rumors about my painting, and he’s
looking for a sugar mamma.”

Lill hooted. “Oh, honey. That’s a good one.
I’ll have to ask Norman about that and see what he says.”

“Don’t you dare. Really, Lill, this entire
conversation is most undignified.”

“And to think it started with you having a
thought,” Mac said, his lips twitching.

“Oh, yes. That. Well, here it is. But don’t
say anything right now, Devi. Just think about it, and we’ll talk
later.”

“What is it?” she said.

“I’m thinking about loaning
Sea
Watchers
out to museums, and I need someone to coordinate the
visits and make all the arrangements.” Devi was a curator at the
Winterford Art Institute in Chicago before she came to Cincinnati
and she’ll know exactly what to do.

She cocked her head and looked like she was
thinking, then she straightened and opened her mouth.

“No, don’t say anything yet. I know you’ll
need to think about it. After all, you may prefer to return to your
job here at Brookside and I’m okay with—.”

“What if it’s yes, I’d love to do that? And,
just tell me when I start.”