Head Over Paws

by Debbie Burns

  What if she never did?

  Swallowing back a rush of nerves, Gabe dried his hands and flipped the phone over to find a handful of new texts from his brother, his dad, and one of his firefighting buddies. And no new missed calls.

  Doubt flooded him, but he pushed it down. She’d felt something too. He’d never been more sure of anything in his life. Maybe what she needed was time. And challenging as it was proving to be, it was the least he could give her.

  Holding onto this hope, he tucked his phone in his jeans’ pocket. He’d give it a few more days. She’d call. She was definitely going to call.

  Thankfully, there was the distraction of an overloaded work schedule this week to keep him occupied. Holding onto that idea, he headed up front to tell the Boston terrier’s anxious owners the news. Their much-loved dog had come safely through surgery, as had her five newborn pups, which was another one of those everyday blessings he’d promised himself he wouldn’t take for granted.

  Chapter 12

  The clock on the wall simply had to be broken. The same went for the digital one on the bottom-right corner of Olivia’s computer screen. The fact that they were perfectly in sync with each other was a fluke. The seconds ticked away like minutes, and minutes like hours. Olivia drummed her fingers on her desk and scanned the classroom full of kids who were just as ready as her for Tuesday afternoon’s final bell and caught a glimpse of a spitball lodging into the back of the new girl’s hair. The girl shook it out of her long locks and cast a somewhat flirty glare into the back corner of the room.

  Earlier in the period, Olivia had given out a practice test after a short review on polynomials. The eighth graders had spent most of the fifty-minute class on it, but now, four minutes before the final bell, they were finished and whispering among themselves.

  Spying a fresh spitball shooting across the room, Olivia headed over to the group of boys in the back corner. She held out her hand, palm up, and wagged her fingers. “Straw.”

  The three boys exchanged innocent looks. “They don’t have straws in the cafeteria anymore.”

  “Yet somehow you managed to find one, didn’t you?”

  Brody, who was thirteen but could pass for seventeen with his broad shoulders and patchy facial hair, reluctantly passed it her way after pulling it out from underneath the desk. “Sorry.”

  Olivia pinched the straw at the center and looked at all three boys one by one as she spoke. “While I applaud any attempt at communication that doesn’t involve a smartphone, there are other ways to get a girl’s attention.”

  There’d been a rush of detentions in seventh and eighth grade during the last month or so of boys who’d been caught mooning other students. Though it had taken Olivia by surprise, it seemed that mooning had blossomed into popularity again. Or perhaps it had never gone out of it.

  She was thankful not to have caught that happening in her classroom this afternoon, or she’d be staying after to write up a detention of her own. Not only was she ready to get on the road, but Ava had emailed five minutes ago to say that she was waiting in the school parking lot.

  As the three boys mumbled fresh apologies, Olivia nodded. “It’s just a couple of minutes till the bell rings. How about we agree not to cause any more trouble, and we’ll start fresh tomorrow?”

  Under normal circumstances, Olivia was one of the last teachers in the building after the final bell rang at 3:05 p.m. She loved to linger in her quiet classroom as the late-afternoon sun streamed through the windows, planning out her lessons for the next day and responding to an inbox full of staff and parent emails.

  Some teachers ducked out quickly and did lesson planning from home. Olivia found she had the most confidence in her lessons when she walked out of school fully prepared for the next day. This was partly because procrastination had never worked for her, but also because of how she savored the peace and quiet of her classroom after dismissal.

  She’d decorated the walls with a few dozen inspirational posters when she took over the class this January. From Einstein, Voltaire, and Carl Jung to Helen Keller, Jane Austen, and a handful of others, she’d acquired an eclectic variety of poster quotes that spoke to her in one way or another, and she loved the way her students connected with individual ones as well. Nerdy as it might be, surrounded by a sea of motivational quotes, Olivia was, well, more motivated to be the best version of herself that she could be.

  This afternoon, there’d be no time for after-school lesson planning. And it was unlikely she’d have time tonight either. That meant tomorrow morning she’d be winging her lessons until she had time to catch up in fourth hour, her open planning time.

  Regardless of the little bit of stress she’d face tomorrow, this afternoon’s escapade with Ava was worth it. Olivia had been counting the minutes till the bell rang for more than one reason. First, at five thirty tonight, that beautiful pointer would’ve been held for seventy-two hours, and he’d be cleared for relocating to a shelter.

  Ava’s favorite animal rescue and adoption center, the High Grove Animal Shelter, had heard his story and had agreed to take him in. And since Ava had reassured Olivia that High Grove would find him the perfect home where he’d be loved and cared for and not dead-bolted in a pen, Olivia was crossing her fingers no owner came forward at this late hour.

  Second, as of last night, her car was ready for pickup. Hopefully, $843 later, her little Cruze would be repair-free for a while, and she could go another several months without having to trade it in for something newer. Third, even though Rhonda had looked and hadn’t found it, Olivia wanted a chance to scour Milton’s Feed Store parking lot for her missing phone. Not knowing if Gabe had been trying to call her was driving her batty.

  If she didn’t find it tonight, she’d head to the phone store after work tomorrow and sign a contract on a new one. She’d been overdue to do so anyway. And while it would be another unexpected knock in her budget this month, at least she’d know if Gabe was calling.

  If he didn’t call, she wasn’t quite sure what to do. What if he’d tried once or twice and was giving up? This worry threatened to tip Olivia into a wave of panic. He’d promised to call on Sunday, and tomorrow would be Wednesday. How much time would he give her to return his call?

  Thanks to last night’s internet search, she was pretty sure she’d found a way to contact him. When she wasn’t riding a wave of wild panic, she was determined to wait it out until Friday before doing so. She’d linked Gabe to a veterinarian’s office in the Rock Hill area. He’d mentioned he was taking over the practice of a retiring vet, and she’d found an article at his alma mater, Mizzou, linking him to the practice almost ten months ago. If he’d moved from there to a different veterinarian’s office, perhaps someone at the office could tell her where. The veterinary office she’d linked him to was owned and operated by a Dr. Albert Washington. Based on his picture, he was certainly at or near retirement age.

  With any luck, she’d find her phone tonight and wouldn’t need to go that route, but it was reassuring to have a backup plan. She’d hardly been able to get Gabe out of her mind unless she was fully focused on something like teaching.

  The final bell mercifully rang, and Olivia waited for her seventh-hour students to file out before logging off her computer and grabbing her already packed canvas tote and lunch bag.

  As directed, Ava was parked at the back of the school, and Olivia spotted her bright-blue Jeep right away. Thankfully, her sister had promised not to show any property after two o’clock today. Sometimes Ava’s real-estate dealings could run three times longer than expected. And as far as Olivia was concerned, waiting any longer than she already had for both the dog and a sweep search for her phone was close to torture.

  “You aren’t going to like this,” Ava said as Olivia tossed her bags into the back seat.

  “Like what?”

  “We’re having a late dinner with the fam.”
/>   Olivia pulled open the front-passenger door. “Who called who?”

  “Mom called this morning.”

  Olivia had gotten a dozen Facebook messages from her hometown friends since Saturday attempting to confirm if the rumors were true. She’d known it was only a matter of time until her parents found out, but without her phone and having had to use Aunt Becky’s phone half-a-dozen times to coordinate her car repairs, she’d not had the energy to initiate a call to them yet.

  “I knew I was going to regret not calling her first.” Olivia drummed her feet into the floor rapid-fire in frustration after buckling her seat belt. “So, did you tell her about Wes?”

  “No. I will tonight. She was too consumed by who you were snogging in New Madrid Saturday and why.”

  Olivia plopped heavily enough against the back of her seat for her head to thwack against the headrest. “Nobody in America uses the word ‘snogging.’”

  “Maybe not, but it’s a touch more satisfyingly graphic than just saying ‘kissing’ or ‘making out.’”

  “It irks me that she went to you to ask about me.”

  “Uh, you don’t have a phone right now. Besides, I’m sure she knew you wouldn’t tell her anything.”

  Olivia sucked in a giant breath and did her best to release it in one slow, controlled stream, only to find that did nothing to calm her nerves. “What’d you say?”

  “That she’d have to ask you… Thus dinner tonight at Gramps and Grams’s.”

  “Great. I can tell everyone about my snogging escapades at once. Did you tell her about the dog at least?”

  “Yep. She wanted to know why we were driving down. Better for a dog than a boy.”

  “Why is it that I’m twenty-five but feel sixteen? I mean, seriously, Mom was pregnant with you by my age.”

  Ava rode the brake through the congested parking lot. Both the front and back lots were pandemonium at dismissal due to the slew of parents picking up their kids and aides and other nonteaching staff making a prompt exit. “If it helps, I’m sure the attention won’t linger on you long.”

  Ava was right. Regardless of what was circulating through the rumor mill, what was happening to Ava right now was top priority. Feeling more than a touch inconsiderate, Olivia placed a hand over the top of her sister’s. “Any news?”

  Ava’s lips squinched together for a second or two. “Does him texting to ask if I’d consider using a mediator to save money count as news?”

  “Oh, Avey. Why is he being such a dick?”

  Ava pressed a little too hard on the gas before pulling out, and Olivia was jerked backward against her seat again. “Sorry.” Her sister tapped Olivia’s knee pointedly. “Software engineer with a master’s degree or not, I outearned him all three years we were together. I put so much money into that wedding. And into that condo—the one he’s suggesting we sell so we can both have a fresh start.”

  Olivia mulled this over a few seconds before responding. “Have you thought any more about what you want?”

  “Yes. I want to adopt that cat. I want to sell the house and start fresh. And I definitely want that cat.”

  Her sister hadn’t stopped talking about the cat in three days. Olivia racked her brain, trying to remember when the cat had come in. She’d learned so many animal stories at once that they were blending together. She was fairly certain the cat had come in Saturday morning after spending Friday night at the gas-station attendant’s house. If so, there was a chance the cat had just been cleared today and hadn’t been picked up or transferred anywhere.

  “You’ve had enough time to think it over. If you really want the cat, then you should have the cat. Just keep in mind, as much as I’ve been enjoying our sleepovers this week, staying at Aunt Becky’s long-term won’t work with a cat. Or dog for that matter. Has she shared any of how Coco was almost featherless when she took her from that family? They had both dogs and a cat, and from what Aunt Becky says, the poor thing was traumatized.”

  “Believe me, I’ll lose it if I stay there much more than another week. But I can’t see why you couldn’t give a dog or cat a try. I’m sure the bird would learn to cope with it.”

  “I’d love to adopt a dog—the pointer, actually—but I know not to push my luck. If Coco so much as sees a dog or cat through the living room window, she goes berserk. And Aunt Becky loves that bird. Coco’s in her will, you know. She’s good with the dog staying overnight tonight, as long as he’s only in my room.”

  Ava rolled her eyes. “I don’t know how you’ve made it there for the last three-something months. Aunt Becky can be such a head case. Just like Dad.”

  Anger flared, fresh and ripe. “Dad is not a head case. And neither is Aunt Becky. She’s just happy with her solitary life…with her cursing cockatoo.”

  Ava snorted. “Yeah, well, how do you explain Dad?”

  It always came down to this between her and Ava. Irreconcilable differences about their family.

  “Why do you have to be so hard on him, Ava? Just because he’s not as driven as you doesn’t make him a bad person.”

  “I didn’t say he was a bad person. I said he was a head case. A dreamer, if it makes you feel better. You know what Mom told me? He hasn’t managed to bring in more than a four-digit income since the midnineties when he was working at the feed store. No wonder why Mom resorted to scams like that honey fraud to make ends meet.”

  Olivia’s happy optimism was teetering. Even if she didn’t want to talk about it, her sister had valid points. They weren’t the only kids in hand-me-downs and Goodwill scavenges growing up, but it was widely accepted that without their grandparents’ help, their family of four would probably have been living out of a car. Thanks to Gramps and Grams, neither she nor Ava had ever gone without an abundance of love and attention or even a healthy meal.

  Ava had always been quick to dismiss her dad’s efforts over the years. And even if she didn’t want to admit it, Olivia knew she couldn’t entirely blame Ava for it. Like their aunt, their dad was a creative and talented artist. He’d just never been able to earn a living at it, and he’d never attempted a different career. His medium was stained glass. He created original pieces that sold at a small studio in New Madrid and had also done restoration in most of the churches in the Bootheel. Not only had his inability to make a somewhat decent living created a point of contention between him and their mom—a countless number of their late-night arguments were burned into Olivia’s memory—but the strain on their family had been evident.

  It was no secret that this was a big part of the reason Ava had taken off as young as she did, and why she was so driven to be successful.

  Ava had left home in the throes of the scandal that had nearly cost her mom her twenty-year job at Carla’s diner. She’d been selling customers honey for over a year after the hive she invested in failed to thrive. Someone caught her buying honey in bulk at the local Walmart, and within a couple of days, everyone in a hundred-mile radius had figured out that the cute jars of local honey she’d been selling were fraudulent.

  Because she was the best server in the place, she’d managed to keep her serving job, but it was a long time before anyone forgot what she’d been doing.

  Probably remembering just the same as Olivia that this subject was tough for them to navigate, Ava turned up the volume to her speakers and passed her phone. “Pick something to play, will you? Something fun.”

  Olivia flipped through the “fun and upbeat” playlist in her sister’s Spotify account. In the spirit of what her sister was going through with Wes, Olivia chose Sara Bareilles’s “King of Anything.”

  After figuring out what it was and letting out a happy snort, Ava joined her in belting out the song into the sunny afternoon. By the time Ava merged onto the highway, they were both laughing and the tension that had spiked so abruptly was ebbing.

  After a pit stop for a late-afternoon sn
ack of fries and chocolate shakes, they made good time. Before Olivia knew it, they’d reached the service station where she’d towed her car.

  Avoiding the lusty-eyed mechanic who had his head just as turned by Ava as it had been by her, Olivia paid for her car and was happy to find that it was driving smoothly.

  Rather than drive around in a second car, she left it parked in a nearby commuter lot and would pick it up on the way home tonight.

  It was just after six thirty when Ava pulled into the entrance of the feed store. Olivia’s pulse burst into a sprint. It made no sense to hope for sight of Gabe’s truck around the corner in front of the shed where the rescue efforts were taking place. Certainly, he was somewhere in St. Louis wrapping up a day of work. Even knowing this, her heart sank in disappointment at not spotting his truck. What would she give to see him here with Samson trotting along at his side? An awful lot, that was certain.

  Being here, her lips tingled fresh from the memory of his mouth against hers. It seemed like only seconds rather than days since she’d experienced the striking and unexpected pleasure of his strong torso pressing against her. He was sexy, yes. It radiated from his persona and was so clearly visible in his heroics. But he was so damn sweet too.

  Please, phone, be here.

  After a quick scan of the area, she headed inside. She’d give the area a closer look once she checked in.

  Rhonda was alone in the big shed, resting on a folding chair over at the side. “Boy, am I glad to see you two!” She stood up, pressing both hands into the small of her back. “A couple of the pups we’ve got in here are about as wound up as they can get, and that pointer of yours is one of them. He was a bit punky Sunday, but as of yesterday afternoon, he’s been acting more like a racehorse at the starting gate than an underweight dog.”

  “Is he? That’s a good sign, right? I’ve been counting the minutes till he was cleared.” Olivia scanned the crates. “And you never heard anything from his owner?”