Top Dog

“You think she’s doing okay?”

“Don’t know,” I said, shrugging.

“I didn’t know if you’d been checking in on her since she hurt herself.”

“Why would I do that?” I asked.

“Because she’s a pretty young woman who happened to inherit the cabin next to yours.”

“How did you know she inherited it?” I asked.

“So she did inherit it.”

I could hear Tanya’s grin as I turned around and studied the woman. She was older, with a head full of salt and peppered hair. It was the only thing that gave away her age because her skin sure as hell didn’t. It sagged and drooped a bit here and there, but there were no wrinkles in it. No bags underneath her eyes and no scars to weigh her skin down. She was plump with the many children she’d raised on her own, and the war-torn life she had led being married to a military man was reflected in the brown of her eyes.

I had a great deal of respect for her, but it still didn’t give her the right to meddle in my affairs.

“She did, yes,” I said.

“Did you have a nice conversation with her?” Tanya asked.

“What are you getting at?”

“What I’m getting at is maybe you should take her some food. She was hobbling around pretty badly, and her car has been coming and going. I think she’s living off fast food.”

“She better. Turning on a stove in that cabin might set it on fire,” I said.

“All the more reason for you to take her something.”

“Why the hell would I do that?” I asked again.

“Because there’s no one else around here to do it.”

“You could since you seem so keen on it.”

“Then who’s going to take care of Lanie?” she asked.

“Umm, me.”

“I think it would be better if you took it to her,” she said.

“What exactly are you trying to do here Tanya?” I asked, my voice laced with annoyance.

“You should take her your chili. That stuff is the best. I’ve already got some venison that has fully defrosted in the fridge.”

“I’m not taking chili to Amanda,” I said.

“Please?”

I whipped my head around at the sound of Lanie’s voice as she stood in the hallway holding her blanket.

“What are you doing up?” I asked.

“Go see Amana! Please?” she said, not quite able to pronounce Amanda’s name correctly.

“Sweetheart, Amanda isn’t feeling well,” I said.

“Food! Amana!”