Cupid to the Rescue: A Tail-Wagging Valentine's Day Anthology

by Lisa Mondello

  She started her computer and logged on to her current project—determining life insurance charges for young parents. Hmm. She’d met a few young parents in Pilgrim Cove already. People just like Lila and Becca were in her mind as she continued her work to determine risk factors for this group, such as recreational activities. Rock climbing anyone?

  The sharp knock and Brandon’s voice came to her, breaking her concentration. “Come on down. We’ve got company.”

  I’m busy! But she rose, stretched, and turned her head left and right a few times, stretching her neck. She glanced at the clock. Good Lord. It was afternoon. “Sheba, let’s go for a walk.”

  A minute later, Kathy stood in front of Bart Quinn with his beaming smile and white thatch of thick hair uncovered.

  The man extended his hand. “Hello, Katarina Russo! I bring you greetings and love from your grandma, who says you should call more often.”

  In his Irish leprechaun mode. Definitely. Sheba pulled the leash. “Mr. Quinn—either come with me to the curb, or go inside. It’s cold out here.” She started walking but turned back. “And by the way, I call Nonna at least twice a week!”

  His hearty laughter followed as she waited for Sheba to finish up. Nice that young Katie didn’t have to keep a secret anymore.

  They congregated in Brandon’s kitchen. “Can’t stay too long,” said Bart. “A lot of happenings behind my back, so I’ve got visits to make.”

  Kathy would bet nothing escaped his knowledge in this town. He looked from her to Brandon. “Is Sea View House not what I promised? With the beach, the ocean…winter can be good, too.” He leaned down to pet Rocky. “And this young man’s come to join you. Good, good. Life is good.” He sat down at the table, and the others joined him.

  “You kept your promise, Bart Quinn,” said Brandon. “The house is perfect, the ocean is majestic, and my upstairs neighbor made sure Rocky found a home.”

  “Ach, there’s that. I hear you met by accident, I did.” His eyes twinkled as though he’d delivered the most unique joke. “Couldn’t even wait to arrive at this beauty here and feel the magic.”

  “I’m ignoring that,” said Brandon. “You can’t stay away from this town for long, can you? It’s only a month since you left, and now you’re back for Christmas, I was told.”

  “You bet. What’s a holiday without my family? But Honey stayed down south with Teresa right next door. They’ll be fine.” He leaned in. “We do FaceTime, you know,” he whispered, his eyelids closed for a moment. “Ahh…I should give credit. My Honeybelle figured it out, and now my young Katie and I can visit. She’s a marvel, she is.”

  He took out his wallet and addressed them both. “Have you kept the special ROMEO card? My pals will take care of you if you run into trouble. Call Ralph Bigelow if the lights go out.”

  Brandon chuckled.

  “I certainly hope they don’t,” said Kathy, “but my card is in the top kitchen drawer just in case. Thanks.”

  The man started to rise. “Almost forgot. I’ll see you tomorrow night at the Lobster Pot. Dinner at seven. The best food along the entire coast, and it’s on the house. My daughters own it, and Ralph and Linda will be there, too.”

  Totally bewildered, Kathy looked at Brandon. “Did you know…?”

  But her neighbor was laughing while shaking his head. “You look like you fell down the rabbit hole and landed on a toadstool. I probably looked exactly the same when I met the whole crew in the diner last month. A real experience.”

  He certainly seemed to be enjoying life in Pilgrim Cove. Well, she had other things to do. “I’m sorry, Mr. Quinn. Thanks for the invite, but I can’t make it.”

  “A Saturday night?” said Quinn. “Ohh—do you have a date?” He glanced at Brandon, his eyebrows squishing together.

  “With her latest book, most likely,” said Brandon.

  She took a breath. “Exactly right. Time is passing. Your quiet little town, Mr. Quinn, is not as quiet as you might think. I have only two more months on this lease, and almost nothing has been accomplished!”

  Quinn’s eyes almost popped from his head. “Lease? Who said anything about a lease?”

  “I signed one.”

  He waved that away. “Pooh. It’s flexible. I’m the one in charge, aren’t I? The William Adams Foundation gets the money no matter who’s renting. So problem solved. Stay longer.” He waved and walked toward his car. “See you tomorrow night at seven!”

  ♥ ♥ ♥

  At six thirty the next evening, Kathy searched her closet floor for the tall black leather boots she’d brought with her in case she’d have an occasion like this. A dinner out. Despite her initial nonchalance, she found a tad of excitement growing and chalked it up to a change of pace. She’d been living in grunge outfits for almost a month. Clean, for sure. But it was about time to change out of sweats and comfy jeans, at least for a little while.

  Brandon had insisted on picking her up at her apartment. “And don’t argue,” he’d said. So, she hadn’t, but thought it was silly when she could have just walked downstairs. It wasn’t a real date. It was a Bart Quinn command performance.

  She stood and adjusted the high-heeled boots, straightened her mid-calf-length black skirt, and pushed up the sleeves of her red turtleneck sweater. Hopefully, she was put together. The Crow’s Nest was definitely in need of a full-length mirror. But she paused in front of the small one in the bathroom to add a gold chain round her neck and gold button earrings. Her wavy hair hung loose past her shoulders. Probably needed a cut. She shrugged. Whatever. She’d have to do.

  She heard a knock followed by Brandon’s voice, and she rushed to the door. “I’m ready,” she said as she opened it.

  His eyes widened as his gaze roamed from her head to feet. “Wow. You’re always cute, but tonight…” He let his voice drift.

  “You mean I clean up pretty well?” she blustered while feeling heat creep up her neck. “I’d really prefer a run on the beach instead of being thrown into a crowd of people I don’t know.”

  His eyebrows rose, and a slow smile appeared. “You know me.”

  True. “You’re one person.”

  “Who won’t leave your side all night. I guarantee you’ll know everyone by the time the evening’s over.”

  It really made no difference to her if she did or didn’t. Brandon could have fit right into her family, drawing energy from being with others.

  They descended the stairs and walked to the SUV. “I wouldn’t have expected you to be a shy superhero,” he said when he opened the door and waited for her to get in.

  “Oh, I can fake it,” she said with a laugh. “I just take a deep breath, walk in, and count the minutes until I can leave.”

  “I don’t think you’re going to escape too quickly tonight. But if you relax, you can have some fun and enjoy a great meal.” He slammed her door shut.

  Enjoy a meal? If her stomach would unknot, maybe he’d be right. She leaned back as he got behind the wheel and threw a manila envelope onto the back seat.

  “A glass of wine might help,” she said.

  “You’ve got it,” he said as the car roared to life. “As many as you want.”

  “Just one glass gets my legs dancing, and that’s all I need.”

  She smiled at him, and his eyes darkened. Their gaze held like a pair of magnets unable to separate. A shiver of desire coursed through her. Totally unexpected, unlooked for. But also…exciting.

  “I-I think you’d better start driving,” she said, her voice unnaturally low.

  He checked behind him and backed up. “That killer smile,” he said, “can drop a man to his knees.”

  His words rang a bell. A killer smile. That’s how he saw her. That’s how he’d captured her alter ego on paper. A unique vision.

  “I’m not nervous about dinner anymore.”

  His laughter filled the car. “Glad I gave you something else to think about.”

  ♥ ♥ ♥

  As soon as they walked thr
ough the front doors of the Lobster Pot and inhaled the aroma of clam chowder, freshly baked fish, and a variety of seafood, Kathy’s stomach rumbled.

  The hostess flashed a grin. “I heard that! It happens all the time.”

  “Good to know, but it really does smell delicious in here. And look at that cute sign.” She pointed toward a wall behind the hostess stand, where a brightly colored poster proclaimed: Don’t Mussel Your Way In!

  “Cute,” said Brandon. “And sends a message. Graphic design at its best. I happen to enjoy puns.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Ahoy, my friends,” came a familiar voice. “Right on time.” Quinn waved them over. “Your aunt and uncle are already here. My friend Sam Parker and his family from the hardware store, too. And of course, my own clan. Follow me.” The man’s eyes softened as he looked ahead to a group of tables set up for them in an alcove of the main dining room. A bustling dining room.

  As they approached the group, and before Kathy had a chance to steel herself, young Katie Parker skipped over to greet them. Then she whirled to face the others in their party. “Hey, everybody. Here are the people who helped Sara and me save Mrs. Murray’s dogs while Ms. Becca had a baby. And Mr. Brandon adopted one of them.”

  “A dog, not a baby,” said Brandon, saluting the crowd.

  Before the girl could say another word, the group erupted into spontaneous applause.

  “Where’s my glass of wine?” whispered Kathy. “This is terrible.”

  “Soon, soon,” replied Brandon, leading her to the seats next to Linda and Ralph, who welcomed them warmly.

  “It’s such a treat that Brandon’s been living here, and now we’ve met his neighbor, too,” said Linda. “You’re welcome to our home anytime.”

  Kathy’s heart softened. The woman reminded her of her own mom. “Open-door policy, huh?”

  “Of course. In this town, there couldn’t be anything else, right, everyone?”

  A chorus responded. Their camaraderie reflected the comfort of longtime friends—of course a generation older than she—but Kathy recognized their sincerity. The real thing.

  Lila waved and came over to chat, revealing that all was well in the Fielding household now. “Sara is so thrilled with her new brother, she turned down our dinner invitation tonight.

  “I’m glad she’s happy,” said Kathy. “It was a rough couple of days for her.”

  “For you guys, too,” said Lila. “Well, we all know that Sea View House attracts great people, but you two really came through for our friends.” She raised a glass. “Hear, hear.”

  With all eyes on them, Kathy wanted to crawl under the table. She’d never sought the spotlight in her life. Brandon must have sensed her unease. His hand engulfed hers immediately. She wrapped her fingers around his. “Smile,” he whispered. “Wave. In ten seconds, it’ll be over. Your wine is waiting for you.”

  He was right about both.

  Brandon’s aunt had a sharp eye. “Sorry about all that attention, but their salute to you is honest and heartfelt.”

  Kathy smiled at her. “I know. I just prefer being behind the scenes, not starring in one…if you know what I mean.”

  “I do, indeed. I wasn’t born here, you know. But Ralph”—she reached for her husband’s hand—”he loved his hometown. It took a little convincing for this Boston girl, but everything worked out perfectly in the end.”

  Nice story, but not Kathy’s story. “Good. I like happy endings.”

  “There are a lot of those besides ours in this town. Lots of heartache, too. Not matter how Bart talks up this place like it’s paradise on earth, in the end, it’s real enough.”

  “No magic spells or fairy godmothers?” Kathy teased.

  Linda paused. “Well…I wouldn’t exactly say that. There’s always a little magic in the air.”

  “Uncle! I’m crying uncle,” said Kathy, appealing to Brandon, who was laughing and shaking his head.

  “I’m done with that topic. Here’s another.” He pointed toward a poster on a nearby wall. “Take a look. There are cartoons everywhere.”

  Kathy stared at a caricature of a little boy holding a fishing pole. The caption said: Wouldn’t you rudder be fishing?

  No comment.

  “Look at that one.” Brandon pointed toward a school of fish in the ocean. The caption: Our fish go to the best schools!

  “Okay, okay. I’ve had enough,” said Kathy. “Cute but corny. Who comes up with these things?”

  Ralph looked over toward them. “We get a kick out of them—usually. It’s Bart’s daughters who make them up, Thea and Maggie. They own the good ship Lobster Pot. Maggie’s Lila’s mom, little Katie’s grandma.”

  “You should all have been wearing name tags,” said Kathy.

  A blonde woman walked toward them at a fast clip, her resemblance to Lila striking. “Welcome, welcome. Sorry I wasn’t at the door to greet you. I’m Maggie Sullivan, and I hope you’ll enjoy every morsel.” She looked at Brandon. “Remember, it’s on the house.”

  “Oh, no,” said Kathy. “I couldn’t…I’d rather…”

  “Special for first timers living at Sea View House,” said Maggie. “It’s a tradition.”

  “I swear, sometimes I feel I’m in another dimension,” said Kathy.

  Brandon leaned over and whispered loud enough to be heard: “She wants to make sure you come back.”

  Maggie chuckled and extended her hand, palm up. “What do you have for me, Brandon Bigelow?”

  He reached for the manila envelope he’d placed on the floor and pulled out two sheets of stock drawing paper with photos of the rescued dogs lined across the center in two rows. Three above and four below.

  “Add them to your wall collection, Ms. Maggie,” said Brandon, “but I suggest hanging one in the entryway.”

  Maggie studied the poster for a moment, her eyebrows raised. “Take a look, everyone. These pups will find a home soon.” She held up one poster in each hand, facing the crowd.

  Kathy stretched to see. Across the top were beautifully hand-printed words that said: Get a New Leash on Life! Beneath the rescues, Brandon had written: See our vet to adopt your pet! (Adam Fielding)

  “Oh, Brandon. This is beautiful. You took those shots from your cell phone and turned them into…into, I don’t know, works of art, I guess.”

  His neck turned ruddy. “The computer did all the work. I’ve got a few more at the house to distribute down Main Street. Want to help me?”

  The town was sucking her in again, but she couldn’t refuse him. Such a good guy. “Sure.”

  Bart Quinn stood up with his glass in hand. “I’m saluting our new tenants once more, and I’m cheering for myself. Bart Quinn still goes with his gut and knows how to pick winners.”

  The servers came with clam chowder for everyone. The aroma had Kathy salivating. She dipped her spoon in and brought it to her mouth. “Ambrosia,” she muttered. “Delicious.”

  “And now you can finally relax and enjoy yourself,” said Brandon. “Everyone’s focused on feeding their bellies.”

  She smiled at him. “I hope so.”

  “They’re good people, Katarina, and you are, too. You fit right in.”

  She gazed around the room, the tables full of folks enjoying themselves, the walls dotted with homegrown corny posters penned by fabulous chefs, and Brandon, who now leaned back in his chair, totally relaxed and looking as if he’d confirmed for himself their prior conversation at the vet’s office.

  He was the one who fit right in. He had found his new home.

  Her Roadside Rescues: Chapter 8

  Holding hands seemed natural as they walked back to the car after dinner. Kathy was the first to speak. “Okay. I admit I had a good time—in the end.”

  “Wasn’t worried for a second.” Brandon’s deep laughter sent a tingle through her.

  “You don’t really know me very well,” she protested. “How could you be so sure?”

  They’d reached his SUV and Brandon un
locked the passenger door, then turned toward her. “Because you always step up to the plate when the going gets tough. I know you better than you think, and I believe in you more than you do yourself. I’ll stop now, but I guess that’s enough for the moment.” He opened her door. “Get in before you freeze.”

  Between the warmth, curiosity, and a wee frisson of anger he’d ignited, freezing was out of the question. She sat down and looked ahead, recognizing a few diners leaving the restaurant. Brandon would know them all in a little while. A new beginning for a confident guy, even after his recent upheavals.

  As soon as he got behind the wheel, she said, “If I didn’t believe in myself, Brandon, I’d walk away from the writing in a heartbeat. I’ve conjured up enough plots for a lifetime, but do you have any idea of the effort I’ve put in? The seminars, workshops, and classes I’ve attended to hone the craft? All while working full-time at my day job? It hasn’t been easy, but I love it.”

  He started the engine and let the car warm up. “I really got to you, huh?”

  “Don’t start playing shrink with me…” she warned.

  “Not guilty,” he said as he began to drive. “Only one psych course in my life. But I understand this—nothing worthwhile is easy. You know the old joke about overnight success taking only twenty years to achieve? That’s the story of most artists and writers.”

  She paused to think. “Yeah, I’ve actually heard that joke many times. Unfortunately, it can knock the wind out of a writer just getting started.”

  He turned from Main Street onto Outlook Drive. “And then you get over it. I’ll bet when you held that first published book in your hand—what was it again? Oh, A Foul Day on Campus—all the aggravation disappeared.” He glanced over at her. “Other authors have told me finishing a book is like giving birth. Even the men agreed, although how they’d know what that’s like, I can’t say.”

  She twisted in her seat belt, excited. “But they’re all exactly right. I ordered a dozen copies of the print version, and when they arrived…reality hit so hard I almost keeled over. And then I danced. I danced around my apartment for a long time. It really was like having a baby.”