As we sat together in a comfortable silence, thinking back on the fire that had changed my life, the phone rang. Charlie and I looked at each other, my heart aching inside.
“The cops, you think?” I asked him.
“Maybe,” he took to looking out of the window at my charred house, “What have we gotten ourselves into?” he wondered aloud.
“Nothing we can’t handle, Charlie,” i got up to put my arms around him, “So long as we’re together,” I said.
He hesitated, but came around, “Ya,” he nodded, “Together, Wendy. I’m sure it’s nothing.”
A knock came at the door, and it opened a crack to show Mrs. Cooper, “You two can’t praddle here long!” she said, “The cops know what you’ve done!”
“How?”
“Ol’man Crusty – or whatever his name is,” Mrs. Cooper’s nose wrinkled, “He phoned the cops telling them you burned the doghouse down,” she shook her head, “You’re starting to bite off more than you can chew son,”
“It’s my fault, Mrs. Cooper,” I said
“It probably is; but you both have to go. Stay here and the cops will take you away”