Consequence by Madeline Sloane

she said, moving
closer to Boone and wrapping her arms around his neck. He settled
the headboard on the floor between them and returned her kiss.
    “Good. Then I’ll talk to you later.” He
removed her hands from around his neck, placed them on the
headboard, and then backed away. “After all the heavy stuff is
gone.”
    Bridget watched him buckle his belt and check
his holster and gun. “Fine. Run away,” she teased. “You’ll be
back.”
    Boone flipped his collar and closed his
jacket, tugging on the zipper. “Tell you what: I’ll bring dinner
home tonight. Chinese take-out?”
    “Sounds good. I’ll have ...”
    “... Sweet and sour pork and a spring roll. I
know. Bye, sweetheart. Have a good day,” he said, leaning in for a
second kiss.
    Bridget balanced the old wooden headboard and
watched as Boone walked through the kitchen to the back door,
pausing to pet Squirt and shake a finger at Morty before walking
out into the breezeway. She listened for the familiar sound of his
cruiser engine revving before she lifted the piece of furniture and
leaned it with the footboard against the wall.
    It felt right.
     
    When Alvin Peachy stopped by with his
half-ton truck, Bridget sent away more than her parent’s bedroom
furniture. She packed off half the house and spent the afternoon at
Peachy’s with Billy Peachy, who ran the styling salon. Although
Billy worked with hair and beauty products, while in college he
majored in interior decorating. He had a vast collection of
magazines. By the time Bridget left the small shopping center, she
had a new hairstyle, several bags of groceries, numerous cans of
paint from Peachy’s hardware store and an assortment of rollers and
brushes.
    Billy wouldn’t let her tear up any of his
magazines, but he loaned her a few of the dog-eared issues. She
soon had an idea of how the new bedroom would look and she couldn’t
wait to show Boone.
    Curled up in one of the two remaining chairs
in the den, she flipped through the pages of a furnishings catalog
and waited for Boone to come home.
    Lost in thought, she didn’t hear his cruiser
in the driveway or the closing of the kitchen door. She jumped when
he called out in the gloom: “Hey, what happened here? Did you get
robbed?”
    She followed the sound of his voice, finding
him at the foot of the stairs, a worried frown creasing his
forehead. The formal dining room table, chairs and buffet were
gone, along with the painted plate collection her mother left
behind. The large den was bare, with all the furniture and the
carpet gone. The remaining furniture was the large easy chair Boone
favored and an antique wingback. A lamp perched on an upturned
cardboard box between the two chairs.
    Bridget swirled in the vast open space, her
arms outstretched. “I told you, I’m inspired! I sent it all with
Alvin. Billy Peachy and I spent the afternoon looking at paint
chips and fabric swatches. Alvin’s guys are coming back tomorrow to
start painting.”
    “But, what about furniture?”
    “That’s the best part. I have a couple of
catalogs Billy loaned me and I want you to look through them with
me.”
    Boone grimaced. “That’s the best part?”
    “Come on,” Bridget cajoled. “It’ll be fun.
And no, looking through the catalog isn’t the best part. The best
part is me ordering the furniture through the online store and
having it delivered and set up by the company.”
    “So, no work is required of me in this
redo?”
    “Not at all,” she said, grinning. “Well,
unless you want to bend your elbow and hand me your credit
card.”
    “That, I can do.”
    “I’m getting the distinct impression that
you’re not a handyman,” Bridget said.
    “Correct. I’m a lawman. I maintain
order.”
    “You don’t do any housework? How about the
yard? Exactly what am I getting into here?”
    “I’ll buy a tractor and cut the lawn. I’ll
shovel snow, if I have to. I prefer to have the township crew come
by and take a little detour up the