Cover Story by Rachel Bailey Page B

forehead several times.
    “That’s probably not good for the phone, let alone your head.”
    I whipped my head around to the source of the now familiar voice. Too wrapped up in the drama with my mother, I hadn’t noticed Simon’s car pull up on the street behind mine.
    “The welfare of my phone is the lowest of my priorities at the moment.” But I dropped it back into my bag anyway.
    “Want to tell me about it?” He leaned an elbow against the roof of the car and ducked his head a little to peer down at me.
    “Not really … ah … ahh …” Oh, no, not in front of Simon again, please. “Ahhh … fink .”
    I opened my eyes and chanced a look up at him. He was clearly amused.
    “Why are you laughing at me?”
    “I’m not laughing at you.” But the grin didn’t recede. “Why can’t you let go enough to sneeze properly?”
    “I don’t want to.” I put the key in the ignition.
    “You know, they feel great. You should let yourself have one. They’re one pure second of letting loose.” His voice became almost imperceptibly huskier. “Don’t you think you’d like that?”
    I narrowed eyes that were already starting to puff up from my allergies. “Are you flirting with me?”
    “I wouldn’t dare to.” His voice had changed back to the amused tone, which was just as annoying. “Why do you hate sneezing?”
    “If you’d grown up with a pollen allergy, you’d hate springs full of sneezing, too.”
    “If you say so.” He was smiling and the warmth in his eyes told me he was teasing, but I resented being challenged by a virtual stranger on my personality flaws, just the same.
    I started my car and he moved away.
    “I’m sorry I can’t stay and engage in this stimulating banter, but I have to go back to work and write an article about your goddamn gnomes.” I drove away.
    After stopping at the Walgreens for more tablets, I went back to work and wrote the article. Kevin printed it in the next day’s issue.
    *
    Puppy Love—The Silent Victims of Santa Fe’s Gnomicides
    By Tobi Fletcher
    Canine lovebirds, Deefer Brown and Remington Philips, have expressed anxiety about the imminent arrival of their litter on the Santa Fe street where a number of infamous gnomicides have occurred.
    They fear that anyone depraved enough to harm innocent garden gnomes may pose a threat to their own offspring, which are due in a matter of weeks.
    Remington, a prize-winning Australian Silky Terrier, is particularly concerned the anxiety will cause problems with the pregnancy of his lover, Deefer, an English Bulldog. Her needs must be paramount at this special time in her life, he’d like to remind us.
    The dogs, and their humans, draw comfort from the fact that no further incidents have been reported. However, all are wary of letting their guard down.
    “ I’m keeping a very close eye on Deefer,” her human, Jazlyn Brown, said yesterday.
    The concerns are the latest in a string of obstacles this canine Romeo and Juliet have faced, including objections from both human families to their union.
    Well wishes for Deefer and Remington and their puppies can be forwarded care of this paper.
    *
    I sat at my desk the next day, with Sofia perched on the corner, trying to work out how to get our senator’s office contact to, well, contact us.
    I tapped a pencil against my teeth. “I say we go into the senator’s office and ask questions about something else, anything else—we could tell them we’re doing a feature on office décor of senators—and say something in a code that only our contact will understand that will prompt her to call back.”
    “In code?” Sofia rolled her eyes. “You’re whacked.” She picked up a pad of my sticky notes, peeled off the top one and stuck it on her finger.
    “I’ll work something out.” I snatched the sticky notes back.
    “No, it’s too risky.” She waved her finger around, complete with its blank, flapping sticky note. “It would probably frighten her by bringing it too close