If the Stick Turns Pink... by Carla Cassidy Page B

it, but of course you both are worth it.”
    â€œReally, SueEllen, you shouldn’t have. This really isn’t necessary,” Bailey protested as she ripped open the top of the box.
    â€œNonsense,” she replied. She bent over to pick up whatever was in the box, her skirt riding high enough to show the edges of hot-pink underpanties.
    Melanie glanced at Bailey to see if he was taking in the view, but his gaze was focused on the front door, as if he would by thought and concentration alone send SueEllen back through it.
    She pulled out what appeared to be a huge brightly decorated dog bowl. With her elbow she nudged the box off the table, then set the bowl in the center of the coffee table. “When I saw this in the store, it positively screamed your name,” she said as she withdrew more items from the box.
    â€œThere’s no way that thing screamed my name,” Melanie muttered beneath her breath. Bailey nudged her in the ribs, his eyes sparkling with suppressed laughter.
    â€œMelanie, could you be a dear and get me a big pitcher of water?”
    â€œA pitcher of water?”
    SueEllen nodded. “You’ll see why I need it in a minute.”
    â€œOkay,” Melanie agreed and left the living room for the kitchen. She filled a large pitcher with water, then returned to the living room where it was immediately obvious why she needed the water.
    A tabletop fountain. It was the most ridiculous thing Melanie had ever seen. In the middle of the bowl was a mountain of ceramic dog biscuits in various colors. A ceramic German shepherd with atoothy grin played king of the mountain. Four fire hydrants rode the edges of the bowl.
    SueEllen poured the pitcher of water into the bowl, then plugged in the fountain. Water spewed from the fire hydrants, hit the demented-looking German shepherd and he bobbed up and down.
    SueEllen squealed and clapped her hands together. “Isn’t that just too cute?”
    â€œI am utterly speechless,” Melanie said.
    â€œYou really shouldn’t have, SueEllen,” Bailey exclaimed.
    â€œOf course I should have. And now I’ll just get out of your hair. I’m sure you two have better things to do than entertain me.” She headed for the front door, but before she reached it, turned back to Melanie. “Call me, Melanie, maybe we can do lunch.” With these final words she flew through the door.
    â€œThat woman has never spoken more than two words to me, and now suddenly she wants to do lunch,” Melanie exclaimed.
    â€œOnly one of the bonuses of being married to the judge of the Miss Dairy Cow Contest,” Bailey replied with a grin.
    â€œAnd the other bonuses would be?” Melanie raised one of her eyebrows inquisitively.
    Bailey pointed to the fountain. “Works of art, right here in our living room.”
    Melanie laughed. “It’s awful, isn’t it. Do we really have to keep it in the center of the coffee table?”
    â€œNo, I’ll take it out to the office in the barn. It willbe more appropriate there.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “So, you want to watch a movie before bedtime?”
    â€œSure,” she agreed. Actually she was relieved with the suggestion. With the coming of darkness outside and SueEllen’s departure, she was suddenly filled with a strange tension as she thought of the night to come, the first night she would sleep in Bailey’s bed.
    She went into the kitchen and grabbed Squirt, then returned to the living room where Bailey had turned on the television. He was already in his easy chair, remote in hand. She sank down on the sofa, Squirt in her lap.
    The puppy wiggled for a minute or two, then settled, lulled by the stroking of her hand against his soft fur. Melanie tried to focus on the movie, but her mind refused to cooperate. Instead she found herself wondering about the night to come.
    Would Bailey want to have sex again? Although she was eager to