about
whether to wait for an invitation. He didn’t want to be as rude as his dogs, so
he remained outside, listening to the commotion within.
Butters and Gatsby liked Susanna. Jay wouldn’t admit this
aloud, but he could tell everything he needed to know about a person from his
dogs. They were the best yardstick. Might sound crazy but he’d learned the trick
while trailing his great-grandfather to the barns when this place had still
incorporated a farm.
“Animals will tell you what’s going on in
a person’s heart,” Great-Granddad had said. He’d been gesturing to
the goats and herd dogs, but he’d meant all the animals on the farm. “If they shy away, you’ll do well to shy away,
too.”
Wisdom or wives’ tale, Jay couldn’t say, but the advice had
stuck and hadn’t yet failed in all these years.
“Lose anyone?” Susanna’s voice brimmed with laughter as she
appeared with the dogs flanking her, their shaggy tails wagging close to lamps
and knickknacks.
She’d already changed from her work clothes into jeans and a
pullover sweater that outlined her trim curves.
“Boys,” Jay said, and both dogs finally decided to show some
manners by obeying the command. “Sorry about that.”
“Not a problem. They’re such sweethearts. I invited them to
visit any time they like. And I promised some treats as soon as I shop.”
Reaching down to ruffle Gatsby’s chest, she displayed a wedge of creamy skin
when her sweater rode up on her waist. “Sorry, boys. I’ve got grocery shopping
on my to-do list, but I can’t seem to get there.” She glanced at Jay. “What do
they like if and when I do actually make it to a store?”
It was such an innocent glance to accompany an innocent
question. She was being nice, he knew, but when he met her gaze, her eyes so
blue they looked almost purple, her one nice gesture drove home how closely
their lives had become entwined in the short time since her arrival.
He wondered what she’d been eating if she hadn’t shopped. Liz,
the dietary manager, had been sending lunches to Susanna’s office, but that
couldn’t be all Susanna was eating, could it?
“Dog bones if they’re eating like dogs. Chicken and steak when
they’re not.”
She smiled in that quick way of hers, as if she was just
looking for reasons to smile. “They’re in luck, then. Dog bones will go on the
grocery list, and I cook chicken and steak.”
“If you spoil them, you’ll never get rid of them. Consider
yourself warned.”
“They’re welcome here anytime.”
The greedy beggars could spot a sucker a mile away. They
crowded around her legs until she felt obligated to pet them and make those
squeaky cooing sounds again. Jay took the opportunity to shoot off a text to
Pete, who was duty manager tonight.
“So how are you settling in?” Jay asked when she finally
realized the dogs would vie for her undivided attention all day if she let them.
“Place working out? It’s small.”
“It is,” she agreed, “but it couldn’t be more perfect.”
That smile still tugged at the corners of her mouth as she
surveyed the room, looking pleased. “Just me here.”
“Saw the pictures of your kids all over the place. Will they be
coming to visit?”
She nodded, her features softening with a mother’s expression,
all fond memories and love. “Hopefully Thanksgiving. My son plays baseball, so
his schedule can be tricky with practice and ball camps.”
There was a lot of longing in that statement, which said
something about how much she cared. Something reassuring, which calmed a bit of
the guilt that still crept up when he least expected it. And when he did.
Was he being selfish to want the kind of life that made him
sound like Susanna did, a life where he had something more to look forward to
than home repairs, the never-ending needs of the facility and dementia? Was that
really too much to ask? He still lived in the house he’d been born in. He’d put
in his time.
“I know you haven’t
whether to wait for an invitation. He didn’t want to be as rude as his dogs, so
he remained outside, listening to the commotion within.
Butters and Gatsby liked Susanna. Jay wouldn’t admit this
aloud, but he could tell everything he needed to know about a person from his
dogs. They were the best yardstick. Might sound crazy but he’d learned the trick
while trailing his great-grandfather to the barns when this place had still
incorporated a farm.
“Animals will tell you what’s going on in
a person’s heart,” Great-Granddad had said. He’d been gesturing to
the goats and herd dogs, but he’d meant all the animals on the farm. “If they shy away, you’ll do well to shy away,
too.”
Wisdom or wives’ tale, Jay couldn’t say, but the advice had
stuck and hadn’t yet failed in all these years.
“Lose anyone?” Susanna’s voice brimmed with laughter as she
appeared with the dogs flanking her, their shaggy tails wagging close to lamps
and knickknacks.
She’d already changed from her work clothes into jeans and a
pullover sweater that outlined her trim curves.
“Boys,” Jay said, and both dogs finally decided to show some
manners by obeying the command. “Sorry about that.”
“Not a problem. They’re such sweethearts. I invited them to
visit any time they like. And I promised some treats as soon as I shop.”
Reaching down to ruffle Gatsby’s chest, she displayed a wedge of creamy skin
when her sweater rode up on her waist. “Sorry, boys. I’ve got grocery shopping
on my to-do list, but I can’t seem to get there.” She glanced at Jay. “What do
they like if and when I do actually make it to a store?”
It was such an innocent glance to accompany an innocent
question. She was being nice, he knew, but when he met her gaze, her eyes so
blue they looked almost purple, her one nice gesture drove home how closely
their lives had become entwined in the short time since her arrival.
He wondered what she’d been eating if she hadn’t shopped. Liz,
the dietary manager, had been sending lunches to Susanna’s office, but that
couldn’t be all Susanna was eating, could it?
“Dog bones if they’re eating like dogs. Chicken and steak when
they’re not.”
She smiled in that quick way of hers, as if she was just
looking for reasons to smile. “They’re in luck, then. Dog bones will go on the
grocery list, and I cook chicken and steak.”
“If you spoil them, you’ll never get rid of them. Consider
yourself warned.”
“They’re welcome here anytime.”
The greedy beggars could spot a sucker a mile away. They
crowded around her legs until she felt obligated to pet them and make those
squeaky cooing sounds again. Jay took the opportunity to shoot off a text to
Pete, who was duty manager tonight.
“So how are you settling in?” Jay asked when she finally
realized the dogs would vie for her undivided attention all day if she let them.
“Place working out? It’s small.”
“It is,” she agreed, “but it couldn’t be more perfect.”
That smile still tugged at the corners of her mouth as she
surveyed the room, looking pleased. “Just me here.”
“Saw the pictures of your kids all over the place. Will they be
coming to visit?”
She nodded, her features softening with a mother’s expression,
all fond memories and love. “Hopefully Thanksgiving. My son plays baseball, so
his schedule can be tricky with practice and ball camps.”
There was a lot of longing in that statement, which said
something about how much she cared. Something reassuring, which calmed a bit of
the guilt that still crept up when he least expected it. And when he did.
Was he being selfish to want the kind of life that made him
sound like Susanna did, a life where he had something more to look forward to
than home repairs, the never-ending needs of the facility and dementia? Was that
really too much to ask? He still lived in the house he’d been born in. He’d put
in his time.
“I know you haven’t
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