Return to Virgin River

by Robyn Carr

  “Any good? He’s gifted!”

  “I know. He met Jilly, fell in love with her and they’ve been together ever since.”

  “And now they’re married?”

  “No. But they are a permanent couple nonetheless. And, this being Virgin River—meaning it’s very small and very nosy—people ask them constantly when they’re going to get married. They’ve been together in that big house for years. I don’t know why they haven’t married and as far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t matter. Kelly, Jilly’s sister, is married.”

  “To a film writer, I was told,” Kaylee said. “She’s very proud of him.”

  “Then there’s the preacher,” he went on, giving her the scoop on how Noah came to town to fulfill the needs of a church he bought on eBay and how he fell in love with the church secretary, a former exotic dancer.

  “This town doesn’t look nearly as interesting as it really is at first glance,” she said, laughing.

  * * *

  Three days later, after only seeing Landry on the porch or in the yard, she asked him if he was interested in joining her for dinner and he readily accepted. They had drinks on her porch at sunset before dinner and then coffee on the porch afterward. She always sat on the swing and he lounged in the porch chair, a rocker, next to the swing.

  The next day Kaylee could see that he was busy and she watched as the owners of his three dog trainees came to pick up their pets. Landry spent at least an hour with each of them in the yard, going through the training commands, directing the dogs to heel, turn, sit, down, stay in place. She watched it all from her porch—from a safe distance, while trying to write. She noted that the owners didn’t leave without handshakes and hugs. There was such a sense of joy around their well-behaved dogs.

  She was surprised when there was a knock at her door at about eight that evening. She opened the door to Landry, who held up a bottle of wine. “Care to see the stars come out?”

  “Look at you, armed with incentive!”

  “I was paying attention to what you like,” he said.

  “Then let’s open it and watch for the stars. Have you eaten?”

  “By the time I finished with the dogs I was starving so I stuffed down a sandwich. Have you eaten?”

  “A couple of hours ago.”

  They took their usual seats on the porch. The sun was just sinking below the horizon.

  “I have an arts festival in Oregon this weekend,” Landry said. “I’m going to stay over but the following weekend I’ll be in Grace Valley for their Art Walk. That’s close enough that I’ll be coming home at night, but late. You should consider checking it out. You might like it.”

  “I’ll plan on it.”

  “I have four shows in a row. September and October are my busiest months; there’s a lot to get ready and pack up. But with the dogs gone, I hope we can still fit in the occasional dinner. And I think it’s time, Kaylee. Time for you to get a little closer to Otis.”

  “Oh, I bet Otis doesn’t mind that I haven’t been in his bubble...”

  “Tomorrow. I’ll make spaghetti. My father’s recipe, which is open the jar and heat it up. Can you come over at four? You and Otis will meet and I’ll reward your courage with dinner.”

  Her first thought was that she probably wouldn’t have much of an appetite if she was sharing space with a dog.

  “Be brave. You’ll be so glad you did.”

  “I wouldn’t be too sure.”

  In the end, she agreed. But she wasn’t doing it because she wanted to conquer her fear of dogs. She was doing it because she loved spending time with Landry.

  * * *

  Kaylee knew she was wound a little too tight when she knocked on Landry’s door. He opened it and immediately pulled her hand into both of his.

  “Sweaty palms,” he said. “I think we’ll begin to end that now. There is Otis.” He pointed to the mat behind him where Otis sat, alert and patient. “I told him you have a nervous condition and to wait on his mat until he’s called.”

  “I’m sure he understood every word.”

  “Sometimes it seems so. Now I want you to look at him and say his name and that he should come.” She was frozen silent. “It’s okay, Kaylee. I’m right here.”

  “Otis, come,” she said very softly. The dog slowly walked toward her.

  “You might want to give him a soft pat and tell him he’s good.”

  She did so, though her hand shook.

  “Try s-i-t,” he suggested, spelling it. Before she could get the words out, Otis sat, making Landry laugh. “Okay, here’s a better way. I’m going to give him a few training commands and then I want you to do it. Otis, come.” The dog sat at his side instantly. “Heel, heel, heel,” he said, and Otis walked at his knee, even as Landry turned. “Good boy,” he said, petting him. “Sit,” he said, and the dog obeyed. “Down,” he said, and the dog was on his belly. “Stay,” he said, then turned and walked away. From the other side of the room, he said, “Otis, place.” Otis went immediately to his mat. “You are good, Otis.” He turned to Kaylee. “Have a go.”

  Kaylee took a deep breath and put Otis through his paces, her voice a little bit nervous, but Otis just looked up at her adoringly and did exactly as she asked. She did that several times. She gave him a pat and told him he was a good boy each time, and when she was ready to be done, she told him to go to his place. But first he lay on his back with his paws up, looking for a belly rub.

  “No, Otis,” Landry said. “Go to your place.” The dog got up wearily, probably disappointed. “You can give him a belly rub if you feel like it,” Landry said.

  Kaylee sheepishly went to the mat, looked down at Otis and said, “Otis, roll over.” The dog rolled over for her. Her eyes and mouth both got big and round. She reached down and gave him a gentle scratch on the belly. Then she told him to stay and went back to the kitchen. “Wine,” she said.

  “You did great,” Landry said with a laugh. “Are you comfortable that Otis won’t hurt you?”

  “I guess so,” she said. “But I’m not going to make any fast moves.”

  Landry smiled at her. He poured a glass of wine for her and she sat up at the breakfast bar.

  “Otis is very smart,” Landry said. “Too smart for his own good sometimes. He knows how to open his door, for example. And even though that door opens into the backyard, which is fenced, he can jump the fence. I’ve pulled up to the house to see him waiting on the front porch. If you see him outside, don’t freak out. He might walk over to you but you can tell him to lie down or go home.”

  “You’re sure about that?” she asked, sipping her wine.

  “I’m very sure,” Landry said. “He’s an excellent dog. I take him on visits to hospitals and nursing homes. Everyone loves Otis. Okay, I’m going to boil some spaghetti. I even made a salad and I have some garlic bread.”

  And she was suddenly famished. The spaghetti was absolutely delicious, the salad was great, the bread was crunchy and wonderful. And the dog stayed on his mat.

  Landry’s phone rang and he ignored it. “Do you want to get that?” she asked.

  “Whoever it is can leave a message. I even have dessert.”

  They took their coffee and dessert to the sofa and talked. He asked her how the book was coming and she told him it was a little better than it had been in Newport Beach in her mother’s house. She was hopeful of finishing it this fall. She’d always loved the fall and would love it even more in the mountains.

  Then she stopped talking as Otis’s head appeared on her lap. He looked up at her with his big sad brown eyes. She looked back at him. The she put her hand on his head and his tail wagged.

  “I might’ve forgotten to mention, Otis falls in love easily. But you’re not his first and you probably won’t be his last. I don’t want you to have a broken heart.”

  * * *

  T
he call Landry missed while he was having dinner with Kaylee was from Laura. He hadn’t heard from her in a while. They had married eleven years ago. They met in San Francisco in the diner where she worked. It happened to be in the same neighborhood as the warehouse where he rented space to create his art because his small flat was just too small.

  Landry had gone to college in San Francisco and loved the city. Three years after college he was still there, working away on his pots, vases, wind chimes, sculptures, whatever struck his artistic nerve. He also worked to keep body and soul together, sometimes working construction, sometimes waiting tables or bartending. Laura was working in the diner to pay for her acting habit—she wanted to be a star. She auditioned for plays, TV commercials, small movie roles, anything that came along. They had art in common and when they met and fell in love it was like a bushfire—burning hot and fast. After a year of seeing each other, they got married in a small, quiet Spanish church in Oakland. They were happy every day. They frequented old movies, galleries, diners that were open late and absolutely any parade or celebration in the city. They were young, carefree, hopeful.

  Then Laura was offered a chance to audition for a part in a movie if she’d go to LA. It was a decent part with some potential. She told Landry she’d be gone for a few days for the audition and if she got the part she might be gone for as long as three months. That was the end of his marriage as he remembered it. She got the part and traveled to Portugal for the shoot. She was home in a few months but only for a few days before there was another opportunity. By the time their second anniversary rolled around, she informed him she would have to move. LA would be her base, not San Francisco. But of course she would come to him whenever she wasn’t working.

  He tried to be supportive; he knew how much she wanted it, wanted to be a star. He thought about how frustrated and unhappy he’d be without his art, but he missed her. This wasn’t his idea of marriage. He offered to move to LA, though he preferred San Francisco. “That wouldn’t solve our problems, Landry,” she said. “At least half the time I might get the part there but we’d go somewhere else for the shoot. The next movie—a made-for-TV movie—we’re shooting in Vancouver. I’ll be there for at least four months. You can come and visit if you like, but I’ll be working long days. Twelve-hour days. I’m going to rent something with some other actors. Something cheap that I won’t use much. A flop house, if you will. You wouldn’t want to relocate your whole business in the hopes of seeing me less than two days every other month.”

  For two years she “visited” him, usually for less than a week a few times a year. They still talked on the phone all the time, but not every day. It was after they’d been married three years and he hardly ever saw her that he decided to move back to Virgin River. He could live with his dad in the house he grew up in. “But it’s so much harder for me to get to,” Laura complained. “I’ll have to fly into San Francisco and rent a car and drive to Humboldt County!”

  So he saw even less of her. Even though she constantly said she missed him, somehow he didn’t think she missed him all that much. She had a rental house in LA that she shared with roommates, two men and two women, some of them on location sometimes. It was nicer than a flop house but less conducive to Landry’s possible visits. He did visit once to surprise her and a man with a towel wrapped around his waist answered the door. He was talking on a cell phone when he said, “Can I help you?”

  “I’m Laura’s husband,” he said icily.

  “Come on in, man!” he said. Then he ended his call and called out for Laura, who looked pretty flustered by the surprise visit. And Landry knew then that things were over. Laura had two lives and the one she had with him didn’t rate as high.

  Laura had explained the man in the towel was just one of the roommates. They had a miserable time together because there seemed to be a lot of people around all the time. The house Laura lived in was a gathering place. She liked being surrounded by people while Landry was a loner. He liked being by himself, creating his art. Plus, he never quite bought the roommate story.

  She’d been wherever there was work for the last ten years. He’d been in Virgin River for the last eight and they kept in touch from time to time.

  He listened to the message on his phone. “Landry, darling, call me back soon! I have some good news.”

  He thought he knew what that meant. She probably had a new film and would be telling him where she’d be spending the next several months. He wasn’t sure why she bothered. But then, they did have a good, compatible relationship for people who had effectively separated ten years ago.

  “Landry!” she said as she answered the phone. “How are you! I’ve missed you!”

  “I’m great and Otis says hello. How are you and what’s your news?”

  “I’m going to be in San Francisco for at least a few days. I’m auditioning for a play. I thought I’d tack a few days on to the audition and visit you. Then if I get the part I’ll be living in San Francisco for several months and we can see more of each other.”

  Damn, he thought. “When is your audition?”

  “It’s in a couple of weeks. This is a huge sacrifice, Landry. The work is hard and the director and writer are walking nightmares. But it would be so good to see you.”

  “Likewise, but you picked an awful time. I have several community art shows in a row. The fall festivals. The fall months are tough. During September and October I’ll be out of town four times, four days each time. If you’re still in San Francisco in November, there will be more room to breathe.”

  “Can’t you cancel a couple of your fair things? They can’t be that important.”

  There were a million angry replies that jumped to his lips, but he wouldn’t let them out. Those “fair things” were important and very good moneymakers. Over the years there were people who followed him from fair to fair just to see what was new. He reserved space a year in advance, was listed in the catalog, and taking and setting up his wares was not quick and easy. Each event was exhausting. But he loved it and he knew many of the people who participated and shopped. They were big events. “I pay for the booth a year in advance and there’s no refund at this late date, Laura. It’s a huge commitment. I usually use the whole week before an art fair to finish my work and have it ready and three days to take everything to the show and to do the setup. It’s a lot of work.”

  “Well, try to fit me into your schedule,” she said. “I haven’t seen you in a long time.”

  “Text me the dates you’ll be in San Francisco and I’ll see what I can do.”

  “That would be wonderful!”

  They chatted for a while about her play. He knew he’d be calling her back in two days to tell her that he just didn’t have any extra time. It was true, the time surrounding these fall town fairs was short and busy. But he also wasn’t interested in cutting his time with Kaylee short.

  * * *

  The morning after her dinner with Landry and Otis, Kaylee went out for her usual walk. The air was cooling down quite a bit and the leaves were already starting to turn. She saw that Landry’s truck was in his drive and Otis was on the porch, but Landry was probably in his shop, madly creating.

  When she passed Landry’s house, Otis came down the walk, moving slowly and lazily, and just took up the place at the end of Landry’s walk. She said, “Heel, heel,” to Otis and he trotted to her side and stayed with her. She stopped and told him to sit and he did. She told him to stay and walked ahead of him and he did. There was something about the small amount of power she had over him that made her giddy with enthusiasm.

  When she came back from her walk Landry was on his porch. “I thought my dog might be walking you.”

  “He was very polite,” she said.

  “Have you had breakfast?”

  “A yogurt,” she said.

  “I’m going to scramble eggs. Interested?”

  “You’re i
nvesting way more in me than I deserve,” she said.

  * * *

  Kaylee had developed a very nice routine. She’d walk in the mornings and sometimes also in the afternoons, often with Otis as an escort, and it amazed her how much she talked with Landry. Some days she’d go to the bar for breakfast or lunch; some days she’d show up there in the afternoons when it was quiet. Quiet afternoons were a good time to run into Mel as she took a break.

  Kaylee loved Jilly’s farm! She tried not to be a pest but she found herself driving out there a few more times after her initial tour. And she always came away with whatever Jilly was pulling out of the ground. In order to balance the scales, she ordered books on the internet to give to Jilly and Kelly as thanks for their generosity.

  The first weekend that Landry was away, she heard the Cavanaugh orchard was having a big open house. You could pick your own bushel of apples or buy some of the many apple products for sale from cider to apple butter to pie filling. It felt like the whole town was there. There were people sitting under trees in their camp chairs, playing catch with kids, chasing dogs, just hanging out and enjoying the day. She knew so many of them, it was like enjoying a picnic. She found herself flitting from grouping to grouping of locals, sitting for a while to ask them how they were enjoying the brisk fall weather, and they were full of questions for her.

  “What do you know about the remodel of that fire-damaged house?”

  “How’s your book coming along?”

  “How do you like living out at Landry’s place?”

  Realizing she didn’t know anything about the remodel, she called Bonnie that evening and learned that after looking at some pictures Paul provided, they told him to go ahead and get started. He was happy to send them progress pictures every few days. They had to pick out appliances, tile, fixtures, sinks, etc., but they could pick them out in LA and they would be shipped to Paul in Virgin River. “As I understand it, he’s getting to work on it immediately because there was a break in his schedule and we wanted to take advantage of it.”