by Liz Dodwell
Tyler stood there in old Levis, boots and a down jacket. As the dogs rushed out he was ready for them and got down on one knee to scruff their necks. From that vantage point his gaze moved from my feet, slowly up my body ‘til he was looking directly into my eyes when he grinned mischievously.
“You might want to reconsider those shoes. There’s a chance of snow tonight….. You look really great, by the way.”
I didn’t know whether to be annoyed or flattered so I just pirouetted on my stilettos intending to flounce away and let him see how good I looked in tight jeans. Only I’d forgotten everything I ever learned at my childhood ballet classes and my graceful pirouette became a klutzy lurch as my heel caught on the doormat and down I went. The dogs, of course, loved this new game and this time I was the one to be slobbered over.
“Are you OK?” I swear he was trying not to laugh.
Pink with embarrassment I shoved Angel away, “Of course I’m fine.” Like I do this all the time?
Tyler leaned down, took hold of me under the arms and lifted me to my feet as if I weighed no more than a mouse. Wow, he must really work out. Then he picked something off the floor and held it out to me.
“My heel. It broke off. Now I’ll have to wear flats.”
“It’s probably safer that way.” And this time, there was no doubt he was laughing.
Four
Dinner was in a small Indian restaurant that had recently opened up in town. The aroma of warm spices was wonderful and the décor a sumptuous mix of dark woods, rich reds and golds. There were no chairs. Instead, the tables were low and flanked with even lower benches or surrounded with cushions. I was just thinking it was lucky I wasn’t in three-inch heels when we were instructed to leave our shoes in a cubby near the entrance. OK, then.
Only a handful of tables were occupied and we were seated in a quiet corner where the lights were low. I figured that was good because I looked better in soft lighting but not so good if we needed to read Tyler’s paperwork.
“Are you familiar with Indian cuisine?”
“Yes, well, no.” My first instinct was to appear to Tyler as worldly and sophisticated, then in almost the same instant I remembered a date when I was just 16. My soon-to-be-ex boyfriend took me to a Mexican restaurant. Without realizing it I ordered the hottest thing on the menu and, with my girlish figure in mind, declined the rice that was normally served with it. I sweated like a horse and it took me an hour to choke down my meal. By the time I was done my hair was limp, my mascara unknowingly had run from my watery eyes and my dress was sticking damply to my back. There went that romance.
Tyler was looking a little puzzled at my response. “Why don’t I order for both of us?”
“Good idea,” I said.
“Do you like beer?”
Obviously my looks didn’t shriek “Champagne.”
“Yes.”
“Then we’ll both have Kingfisher beer and a pot of your fennel tea,” he instructed the server. “We’ll start with lamb kabobs and the cucumber, tomato and cilantro salad. For the main dish we’ll have chicken biryani – medium heat. And please take your time. We don’t want to be rushed.”
Turning to me. “I hope you enjoy this. I spent six weeks traveling through India after college and I really came to love the food.”
“It must be wonderful to travel. I’ve hardly been out of Mallowapple and I never went to college either.” Since my attempt at dressing like someone that I’m not hadn’t worked I figured it was better that I just be me. No point in pretending to be worldly or well-educated when I wasn’t.
“College isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Do you know how many highly educated people there are who can’t find work in their field? I bet there are college grads who’d be glad to work for you right now.”
“As a matter fact, there already is one.” And next thing I knew I was telling Tyler how I’d always wanted to work with animals but hated school, so the idea of years of college just never appealed. I started as a dog walker, then people began to ask if I could help with other errands while they were at work or on vacation. Soon it was more than I could handle alone so I hired another person as an independent contractor. Now I had six contractors, all licensed, bonded and insured and operated a busy pet care and concierge service.
“What’s next?”
“Eventually the pet boarding facility I mentioned to you before. Business is great but I’ve still got a lot of saving to do before I can afford a property.”
“Well, I hope you’ll come to me when you’re ready.”
I smiled wryly.
By the time our food arrived I’d learned that Tyler had taken over the family business when his dad took early retirement. He’d successfully expanded into commercial real estate and had more than 20 agents in his office. I wondered why he was bothering with our sale when he could easily hand it off to one of those other agents.
When I’d asked what he did for down time he’d looked puzzled. “Hobbies, sports, you know,” I’d persisted.
“There’s no time for play,” was his response, and there I’d left it, thinking that explained his invitation to combine business with the necessary function of eating.
The meal was marvelous. Fragrant, moist and just spicy enough. While we ate Tyler told me he thought we could market the house for $300,000 to $350,000.
“That’s terrific!”
“Before you get too excited, let me explain a couple of things. A house that large is actually harder to sell. You have more than 4000 square feet. Most people who are looking for something that size can afford a home that’s new or completely modernized. And the outbuildings could be a plus – or not. They’re not in bad shape but they do need some work and, again, a lot of people simply don’t want to do that.”
My elation was swiftly plummeting. “What do you suggest?”
“Stick with the original plan. Clean, paint and refinish the hardwood floors. That’s still going to cost you about $15,000 but I can recommend people to do the work. On the other hand, if your mother would be happy in a condo then there are some newer properties, well under $100,000 and wheelchair accessible, that I can show you.”
“OK, but what if the house doesn’t sell?”
“It will sell. I’m giving you the worst-case scenario in the interests of full disclosure.”
After that I felt rather deflated and Tyler obviously had no interest in me other than as a business prospect. Why did I care? I hadn’t even liked him at first. But I did care. I was finding myself drawn more and more to him and I didn’t like thinking of myself as the unrequited lover.
My mood picked up when we got dessert though. Something called Kulfi ice cream; amazingly light and sweet with my favorite pistachios and a hint of rose water. Yum!
Five
We were the last to leave the restaurant even though it was only nine. As we stepped outside, we realized why. Snow was falling heavily and it wouldn’t be long before the roads were covered.
Tyler drove a Subaru Outback. It was turbocharged, all-wheel-drive and a smart choice for the sometimes rugged terrain where we lived and the bad weather we sometimes endured. We were parked a couple of blocks away in a covered area.
“I’ll get the car and pick you up here,” Tyler offered.
“No need. I can walk with you.” After all, I was wearing boots.
As we neared the parking lot we heard raised voices coming from a nearby alley. Then very distinctly someone said, “Control that dog or I’ll shoot him!”
That was enough for me. Without thinking I bolted round the corner yelling, “Don’t shoot. Don’t shoot.”
Startled faces turned my way. A cop, legs wide with his gun in a two-fisted hold pointed toward an old man who had his arms round a large dog that was growling warningly at the cop.
The cop recovered first. “Get back, lady. This is police business.”
I planted myself between the policeman and the dog. “Don’t shoot. I can help.”
; “Lower that weapon!” It was Tyler, who’d followed me into the alley. His voice was so commanding that the officer looked confused. In a calmer tone Tyler continued, “I suggest you call for back-up and let’s all behave reasonably about this.”
“I don’t know who the hell you think you are but you’re interfering in a police matter.” Waving his weapon at Tyler he ordered him to move over so that we were all bunched together. Then he did use his radio to call for help.
Behind me the old man was sobbing while still hugging his dog. He looked in his 70s though my guess was a hard life on the streets had aged him and he was probably closer to 60. And his dog was a she; a pitbull, more stocky than my Angel and not young, either. I hunkered down. “What happened?”
“He wants to take Elaine from me.” Elaine? Wonder who she was named after. “She’s all I’ve got. We’ve never been apart,” and, in fits and starts, part of the story came out.
He’d rescued Elaine as a pup. Some kids had tied cans to her tail and were throwing fire crackers at her. Another pup was dead nearby with burns and cuts over its body. Rooster – that’s the name he gave – chased the kids off. When he turned back to the pup, instead of trying to run off she came to him, cans and all dragging behind her. That kind of bond is not something that’s ever shaken and, since then, Rooster and Elaine had wandered the country together, Rooster looking for work where he could, sometimes eating at soup kitchens and sneaking a few bites out to his friend. At night, sleeping wherever they could lay down together.
Apparently, the police officer, who looked like he’d be in his mid to late twenties and, I thought, was overly officious, had seen Rooster with Elaine checking dumpsters. He’d demanded Rooster’s ID and address as well as Elaine’s proof of ownership and rabies vaccination. When Rooster produced his identification and Elaine’s vaccination record, the young cop told him he was still going to arrest him for vagrancy because he had no permanent address and Elaine would have to go to the pound. Rooster pleaded to be allowed to go on his way with his dog but the cop grabbed him to put him in handcuffs, at which point Elaine growled and the cop threatened to shoot her. Enter Tyler and myself.
At that moment the animal control vehicle pulled into the street. Tyler was standing in stony silence, his expression dark.
Rooster began to sob again. “Don’t let them take her….please,” he pleaded.
“I’m going to do everything I can to help,” I promised him.
Five minutes later a heated argument was in force and I was at the center of it.
“Nobody has to go to jail and the dog doesn’t have to go to the pound. How many times do I need to tell you, they can come home with me?”
“Lady, the old guy resisted arrest. He’s going to jail and we’re not leaving a dangerous dog on the streets.”
“She’s not dangerous,” Rooster yelled and to prove it Elaine yawned, a dog’s way of saying, “OK, time to lower the intensity level.”
“There, you see,” I shrieked, “How is that dangerous? Elaine is the sweetest thing ever.” At which moment there was a loud blast on a horn.
“Who the hell is Elaine? Nobody told me another woman was involved.”
We all turned. In our ire we hadn’t even noticed that a second cruiser had arrived with the Animal Control vehicle. The man who spoke obviously had a few years’ experience on the other cops and a good few pounds. Maybe it was true about cops and doughnuts.
“Rooney, explain!”
The first officer began to speak. When I tried to inject a few words the older cop glared at me. “Miss…?”
“Uh, Polly Parrett, and as I was saying…”
“You won’t be saying anything unless you want to be arrested for obstruction. You’ll get your turn later.”
My jaw dropped. Then it dropped further when he turned to Tyler. “And what’s your part in this, Breslin?” They know each other?
“We just happened on the scene, Sheriff,” and briefly Tyler summed up the situation.
“Is that about right, Rooney?”
“Uh, yes sir, but …..”
“No buts. Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re all coming down to the station to file a report. The dog is going to Animal Control.”
“Noooo,” wailed Rooster. “Run, Elaine. Go, go away.” But the dog just cocked her head and looked confused.
“Rooster!” I said. “I promise I’ll get her out and take care of her. She won’t survive on the streets in this weather without you. It’s better you let them take her for now.”
“You promise you’ll keep her safe?”
“I promise.”
And with tears streaming down his face, Rooster lifted Elaine into the Animal Control van, whispering to her to be good, but as the van drove away we all heard Elaine’s desperate howls.
Rooster was bundled into the back of a squad car while Tyler and I were instructed to follow them to the station. Once I was settled in the seat of the Subaru my righteous anger overcame me again. “I can’t believe that Rooney was actually going to shoot Elaine.”
Tyler hit the brakes and we skidded across the snow-slicked street almost hitting a fire hydrant ‘til we ground to a stop against the curb.
“You can’t believe he would shoot a dog? You nearly got shot yourself. What kind of a damn fool stunt was that to put yourself between a cop with an armed pistol – a nervous, inexperienced cop at that – and a snarling pitbull. Of all the stupid, dangerous ideas…… It’s a damn good thing I called Sheriff Wisniewski.”
“You called him?” I gasped. “Then you’re responsible for Rooster and Elaine being split up.”
“I’m responsible for preventing a bad situation from getting worse and maybe even for saving Rooster’s and Elaine’s lives.”
Tyler’s mood was beyond black by now and my own fury was redirected from Rooney to him.
“Saving their lives,” I scoffed. “What are you? God?”
“Do you honestly think either of them could have survived outside tonight? Neither dog nor man are exactly young, and the temperature is going to drop into the teens.”
“There are shelters!” I shot back.
“The shelters won’t accept dogs and Rooster won’t go if he can’t take Elaine.”
“Well, they could have come home with me.”
Tyler sighed heavily and seemed to exhale his rage for he looked at me almost sadly. “You know it was already too late for that. And let’s not get into the fact that you’d be taking in a total stranger, a vagrant you know nothing about, and a potentially dangerous animal.”
My own anger had not yet deflated. “I’m not an idiot and I’m a good judge of character. Rooster is just a sad, old man who’s been abandoned and ignored by cold-hearted people like you and Elaine is a sweet, loyal girl. They deserve better than this.”
Tyler’s lips tightened into a thin line and his jaw muscles clenched but he didn’t respond. Instead, he rammed the car into gear and we fishtailed back onto the street and continued our way to the police station.
It took a couple of hours to give our statements and I wasn’t allowed to see Rooster again. I wanted to reassure him about Elaine but was told I’d have to wait ‘til the next day.
I was still mad as hell.
“Look young lady, I know you won’t believe this right now, but I do sympathize. Thing is, I’d rather put a man behind bars for the night than be scraping up his dead body in the morning.”
We were standing at the front entrance when Sheriff Wisniewski made this statement.
“My advice is to get home, get some rest and you’ll see things differently in the morning.”
Home? Rats! How was I going to get home?
“Do you have a number for a taxi?”
Wisniewski guffawed. “There aren’t any taxis on a night like this.”
“Well, what about a ride home in a squad car?”
He just looked at me.
“I’m taking you home.” Tyler!
“I’d r
ather lie on a bed of nails and eat glass,” I said in my best haughty dowager voice. To which Tyler responded by grabbing my elbow, dragging me out to the car and shoving me into the passenger’s seat.
“Put your seat belt on,” he hissed. “This is going to be a rough ride.”
And it was. The road at times was completely hidden beneath the snow, which was rapidly freezing. A drive that normally took 20 minutes lasted well over an hour and it was only because of Tyler’s skill at the wheel that we made it safely. Not that I would ever admit that.
Neither of us spoke the whole time. Not even when Tyler deposited me at my house then sped away, racing the wheels, the moment I closed the car door. And in that same moment I realized I’d left all the real estate paperwork in the file on the back seat.
Drat!
Six
Inside my head The Chipmunks were singing ‘Pretty Woman.’ It was really annoying and I couldn’t get them to shut up. Then I opened my eyes. Oh, right – the alarm.
I’d set it early; I was on a mission today. I wanted to be at the county shelter when they opened at nine to spring Elaine from her prison and I had to stop on the way to check on Laurel and Hardy, a chatty pair of cockatiels whose pet parents were sunning themselves down in Florida.
My head felt like a bowling ball - I’d slept badly because I was so wired. As soon as I’d got in last night I’d called my mother to make sure she was OK. Thankfully the power was still on and she said everything was fine. I was keeping my fingers crossed that her aide would make it out there this morning.
With some difficulty I extricated myself from the bed. Ditto and the girls, Amber and Taz, my cats, didn’t budge. Vinny and Coco looked up to see what the disturbance was then grunted and put their heads back down. Angel had her own bed – I rather envied her.
After a quick shower I dressed and headed outside to assess the situation. In the dark I could see that my van was iced-stuck to the driveway and the roads looked slippery as wet soap. In Maine we’re used to rough weather and I figured with a little kitty litter I could rock the van out of the ice but I was concerned about the roads. The van is great for pets but not the most practical vehicle in this type of weather.
