Restlessness plagued her later that evening as she tried to find something to do. Staying in on Friday nights hadn't bothered her before, but tonight was somehow different, probably because she had built up her hopes of seeing McKinnon, only to be disappointed. Driven with excess energy and no outlet, she finally pulled on some old jeans and a plaid shirt, braided her hair, and took gardening tools out to the flowerbeds.

She was attacking the weeds with unaccustomed vigour when she heard a car. As she rounded the corner of the house, she stopped in mid-stride. McKinnon was getting out of his blue Cadillac.

"Hi Witch. What's new?"

Warily, she looked at him. He was acting as though they had just parted a few hours ago, instead of several weeks.

"Not much. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

Becoming suddenly serious, he said, "I wanted to talk to you. I hope I haven't come at a bad time."

"Oh, very bad, McKinnon. I'm busy entertaining the mayor and his wife for tea. Can't you tell by my attire?" She grinned at him as she pulled off her grubby gloves. "Come on in."

Since McKinnon had last been in the house, Charly had managed to finish furnishing it. She offered him a seat in the living room while she cleaned up, and she wondered as she did so what it could be that he wanted to talk about.

She wasn't long finding out. He was pacing around the room when she came back and her defences rose because she could sense that it wasn't going to be good news.

"Something's wrong, isn't it, McKinnon?"

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"Yes, Charly, something is wrong. I'm not even sure I can talk about this without blowing up."

"I think you had better just tell me what it is. I'll make some coffee while you get your thoughts together."

Was he going to tell her she was fired? Or that he had sold the property and she had to get out of the house? Filling two cups, she carried them out to the living room.

"Is it something I've done, McKinnon? You're scowling like a bear with a thorn in his paw."

"God, no Charly. It really hasn't anything to do with you, except that you happen to be living in my house." He sat down and picked up his coffee, staring blankly out the window.

"Come on, T. G.. tell me. I can't stand suspense. Just tell me what happened to upset you." She sank down beside him, wanting to offer comfort but not knowing how to give it, because she didn't know yet what the problem was.