I’m pretty sure I know where that tongue has been.

“That’s it, unless you have questions. But you have my number, so feel free to call if you need anything.”

“Thanks.” I get the boy and his dog settled in the back seat and set off for home.

In the short ten-minute drive, the dog has been in the front seat, the back seat, and returned to the front seat seventeen times.

Seventeen.

I’m relieved that we live on enough land that I’m not worried about Sam and the puppy playing in the yard. We also don’t live near a busy road, so Sam should be able to play with him without the leash.

And that puppy definitely needs to burn off some steam.

“What are you naming him?” I ask Sam.

“Derek.”

I choke, sputtering and laughing at the same time.

“Derek? Why that?”

“Because Derek Jeter retired, and I know I’m not a Yankees fan, but it’s all about respect, Mom.”

“Ah,” I reply seriously. “What if you called him Jeter?”

“Jeter is a last name.” He rolls his eyes like I just don’t get it, making me smile more. “Derek is a first name.”

“Okay, it’s your dog.” I hold my hands up in surrender, then lift the puppy into my arms, cuddling and nuzzling the sweet little guy. He really is adorable. He’s red in color, and his ears are almost as big as the rest of him. And oh, that sweet puppy smell. I might be a little in love with him myself.  “Make sure he goes pee, then you can take him in and show him your room and the kitchen.”

“Okay! Come on, Derek.”

Derek.

My kiddo is hilarious.

I walk to my desk to fetch my iPad so I can open my scheduling program for the inn to double-check the guest list, who is staying where, and to see if anyone has booked online since yesterday afternoon.

But it’s not on my desk. I check the kitchen, my bedroom, and even my car.

Nothing.

Where in the hell did I leave it? I’m crippled without it. I hate flying blind, not knowing which guests I’ve assigned to which room, and I definitely can’t take phone reservations without my scheduling program.

My phone suddenly rings, and glancing down at it, it’s the same unknown caller again.

“Hello?”

There’s a long pause, and then the call ends.

God, I hate that.

Okay, Gabby, adjust your sails. You can’t find the iPad. What now?

My computer. I can log into the program on my computer and use it there until I find the damn iPad.

I hope.

I try to log in, but it says my password is wrong. Did I forget it? I always use the same one: SAMSMOM.

Nope, won’t let me sign in.

What the freaking hell?

I don’t have time to deal with this, so I call Beau.

“Can I borrow your iPad? I can’t find mine.”

“Sure, but I brought it to work with me.”

“Great.” I hang my head in my hands. I’m going to have to fly blind as it is, at least until Beau gets home. “Will you please bring it to me when you get home?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks.” I hang up and suddenly hear a commotion coming from the kitchen.

“Mom! Hurry!”

I jump up, running for the kitchen and my phone rings again.

“Hello?”

Silence and then the call ends. This is getting incredibly annoying.

I hurry to the kitchen and then stop dead in my tracks at the scene before me.

Derek is splashing in two inches of water on my kitchen floor, getting both him and Sam wet. My dishwasher is moaning and making the craziest noise I’ve ever heard.

Why didn’t I just replace it, rather than have it repaired? It’s not like I can’t afford it. What the hell is wrong with me?

“Is that dog poop on my kitchen floor?” I yell, pointing to the pile just outside the edge of the water line.

“Sorry,” Sam says, then giggles when Derek splashes him. “He didn’t mean it.”

“Get him outside. Now.” I scrub my fingers through my scalp, and then reach for a mop and sanitary wipes to clean up the mess.

And then my phone rings. Again. I wouldn’t answer the unknown number, but it could be a guest.

“Hello.”

Now my patience is wearing very, very thin. “Hello, damn it!”

Click.

“You know what?” I rant and pace over to the fridge, open it, and set the phone inside. “I’m done with this. I need to put it out of sight out of mind for a bit. I have poop—poop, for God’s sake—to clean up, a lake to sop up, and I can’t find my goddamn iPad!”

I take care of the stinky mess made by the formerly cutest puppy ever, and get busy mopping up water, working quickly because guests should be arriving soon.

And just when I think the last of the water is gone, I hear a very familiar, horrifying crash upstairs.

“Oh, crap!” I hear Sam yell outside. Yep, he’s broken another window. “Mom, Derek threw the ball through the window!”

I bend over the countertop, bury my face in my arms, and pray for a martini and about four more of me.

This is the day from hell.

***

“I can’t believe Sam broke another window, on top of everything else,” Beau says with a chuckle, earning a glare from me. “Not that it’s funny.”

“It’s not funny,” I reply, but then can’t help but let out a tiny giggle. “Okay, it’s kind of funny now.”

“We’ll replace the dishwasher,” he says.

“Don’t tell her how to run her business,” Van says as she bustles into the kitchen with an empty plate from the wine hour in the sitting room. “She has this handled.”

“Clearly, I don’t.”

“Today was just a crappy day, sugar,” Van says and pulls me in for a big hug that feels so good. I didn’t even realize how badly I needed it until right now. “Go to bed. I’ll finish up with this. There’s only an hour left anyway. You could use the rest.”

“Are you sure?”

“Wow, she is tired if she’s barely putting up a fight,” Beau says. “Yes, go. Oh, here’s my iPad.”

I frown at it. “Just leave it on my desk. I’ll deal with it in the morning.”

Beau nods just as Sam sticks his head around the doorjamb. “Derek doesn’t want to go to sleep.”

“And here we go,” I mutter.

“I can deal with this,” Van says, but I shake my head.

“No, I’ll put them to bed, then go that way myself. Thank you for this.”

“Good night.”

“Come on.” I take Sam’s tiny hand in mine and lead him to his bedroom, where Derek is dead asleep, under the covers, with his head on Sam’s pillow. “Scared, huh?”

Sam nods solemnly.

I glance at the chair in the corner of the room that I used to rock Sam in, and rather than over think it, I lift the sleeping puppy and give him to Sam, then lift Sam and settle in the chair with my boy and his pup in my arms.

“What are we doing?” Sam whispers.

“We’re going to rock for a little while. Want me to sing?”

He yawns and nods, petting Derek, who isn’t even aware that he’s been moved. Infants and puppies sleep like the dead.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…

I begin to rock slowly and softly sing the song that my daddy sang to me when I was a little girl. I’ve sang this song for Sam since the day he was born. It soothes us both.

And for some reason, I need soothing.

It’s not because it was a craptastic day. I’ve had plenty of those.

I miss Rhys.

And he’s been gone for twelve hours.

Sam nuzzles against me and breathes deeply, falling asleep, and I just rock and hum for a long while, enjoying the way my sweet baby feels in my arms. The demon puppy is cute too, curled up on Sam’s chest, snoring softly.

This. This, right here, is the most important part of my life, and I’ll do good to remember that.

Finally, I stand and lay Sam in his bed. I leave Derek with him, resigned that I’ll lose the no puppies in beds rule.

After all, what’s the harm?

Once in my own room, I change into pajamas, brush my hair, and search for my phone on my way to the bed. God, I’m so damn tired, but I would like to hear Rhys’s voice before I fall asleep, and I haven’t spoken to him all day.