Meghan scraped the remnants of her leftover egg into Sox’s bowl, then headed for the Snip ’N’ Save office. Tracy followed close behind, still apologizing for having done the wrong thing.
“Let’s take a look at the ad you ran,” Meghan said. “I’m sure it’s not all that bad.”
She was hopeful the picture of Sox was like so many of the others she’d snapped: an image that caught only the edge of his profile or the tip of his tail as he turned away. Tracy sat at the computer, and a few clicks later the ad was on the screen.
The picture of Sox was adorable. He was looking straight into the lens with a glimmer of expectancy in his eyes.
“I d-don’t get it,” Meghan stammered. “How did you get him to sit still for such a good picture?”
“I said, ‘Where’s Meghan?’ and he looked up at me.”
Meghan stared at her, then looked back at the computer.
Tracy’s shoulders slumped as she stared at the screen.
“I’m so sorry,” she said mournfully. “I should have realized . . . ”
Sheldon was the one who did the final layout. Meghan sent him the ad files, and he paginated them, placing the individual ads so competitors were not side by side. He put the filler ads in wherever they were needed, so there was no telling where the Sox ad would be. She’d never before asked to see a prepress proof and wasn’t going to make Tracy feel even worse by calling for it now.
Although the Snip ’N’ Save wouldn’t arrive in the mailboxes of the Magnolia Grove residents until Monday morning, a worrisome look was already etched on Meghan’s face.
Late Saturday afternoon, the delivery service dropped a package on the front porch. It was the same thing they delivered every Saturday: thirty proof copies of the latest Snip ’N’ Save. Meghan usually carried the package into the office and left it to be opened on Monday, but this time she tore into it immediately.
She pulled out a copy of the magazine and leafed through it page by page, searching for the ad. When she got to the last page without seeing it, she breathed a sigh of relief. But then she flipped the magazine over, and there was Sox, looking back at her and cuter than ever.
Thinking he was doing her a favor, Sheldon had placed the ad on the back cover directly above the address box. People couldn’t miss it if they tried.
Meghan felt an icy tremor slide through her heart and spiral into her stomach. The only thing she could do now was wait.
Determined to make the most of what could be their last days together, Meghan took Sox for a long walk on Saturday evening. She skipped dinner, then stopped for a cup of ice cream and sat on the bench in front of Friendly’s. Sox waited until she was nearly finished, then looked up and swiped his tongue across his lips. Meghan set the cup on the sidewalk and watched as he lapped up the last of their summertime treat.
On the way home, they walked past the lake. Something drew her to the spot where she had been sitting the day she saw him in the water. Meghan lowered herself onto the grass, and the dog squatted beside her. For a long while there was only the faint chirp of crickets and the occasional splash of a bass jumping in the water.
As Meghan tried to remember that afternoon, darkness settled into the late-evening sky. She could recall the storm, how it had come up so suddenly, and how, as she tried to reach Sox, he disappeared from view, then bobbed to the surface again. Her heart began to pound as she recalled the blinding rain and the desperation of those last few minutes. Even now she could not remember climbing out of the lake. She searched her thoughts but could find only snatches of fear and the sting of rain against her skin.
Almost as if he, too, could sense the memory, Sox scooted closer and began licking her arm.
They sat that way for a long while, Meghan trying to remember the moment she stepped from the lake and Sox reminding her of how he’d been there when she opened her eyes. When she could find no other answers, she looked into the sky and saw one star blinking brighter than the others.
“Daddy,” she said, “were you there for me that day?”
The star blinked again, but there was no answer, just the rustle of a breeze stirring the oaks and the far-off call of a cricket.
By Monday, Meghan’s nerves were worn to a frazzle. She startled at the slightest sound and found it impossible to focus on a simple task. Three times she tried to line up the text for the Tots ’n’ Tykes ad and mistakenly hit “Delete.”
When Bruce Prendergast called to ask if she’d like to attend the upcoming Chamber of Commerce meeting, she asked why, forgetting the project they’d discussed.
“Why?” Bruce echoed with an air of annoyance. “Well, I would have thought the holiday festival was as important to you as it is to the chamber.”
Meghan quickly came to her senses.
“It absolutely is,” she said, then brushed the issue aside, claiming she’d been distracted by a family problem.
“I certainly hope nothing is wrong with your mama,” Bruce replied. “She’s a fine woman. A sweetheart if ever there was one.” After a brief moment of hesitation, he added, “You tell Lila that if she needs help of any sort to give me a call. You be sure to do that now. Tell her Bruce Prendergast was asking for her.”
Ignoring the way Bruce seemed to have more than a passing interest in her mama, Meghan said, “I’ll do that,” and hung up.
Although he’d not mentioned it, earlier in the week Bruce had run into Lila as she was taking Sox for his afternoon walk. They’d stood and talked for a good thirty minutes, and the whole time he kept remembering how it was when they’d dated back in high school. All those years ago, he’d thought they might one day marry, but then George happened along, and that was the end of their relationship. The sweetness of Lila’s kisses was something he had never quite forgotten.
All day long whenever the Snip ’N’ Save phone rang, Meghan’s heart rose up into her throat. She answered in a voice so emotionally charged, customers assumed they had reached a wrong number. Eloise Hempstead hung up and called back twice before she realized it was Meghan, and Jack Campbell apologized, saying, “Sorry, wrong number. I was calling the Snip ’N’ Save.”
By dinnertime Meghan’s stomach was twisted into a knot. When Lila set a plate of meatloaf smothered in gravy in front of her, she just sat and stared at it. Lila, worried that they would go through months of turmoil like they had with Clancy, insisted Meghan eat.
“I won’t have you getting sick again,” she said.
“I’m not getting sick,” Meghan replied, but after a spoonful of mashed potatoes, she pushed her plate back. “I need some air,” she said, and stood.
With Sox at her heels, she grabbed the yellow tennis ball and headed for the backyard. Sitting on the steps, she tossed the ball across the yard. Sox eagerly chased it, then carried it back and dropped it at her feet. They did this over and over again until the ball rolled under the mulberry bush. By then Sox had wearied of the game anyway.
The moon was high in the sky when Meghan finally came inside. One last time she checked both the phone and website for messages. There were a few, but not one of them mentioned the dog. She had made it through the day, and Sox was still hers to keep.
The knot in her stomach loosened, and she grabbed a chocolate chip cookie on her way upstairs.
That night when Meghan climbed into bed with Sox snuggled next to her, she allowed herself to believe their finding one another was something that was meant to be.
“It’s possible Daddy did send you to me,” she whispered affectionately.
As she drifted off to sleep, Meghan could have sworn she heard a voice say, “Probably.”
The call came in shortly after ten on Tuesday morning.
“I’m calling about the dog you found,” the man said.
Meghan’s breath caught in her lungs, and several seconds ticked by before she could answer.
“Did you see the picture in the Snip ’N’ Save?” she finally asked. It seemed obvious that he did, but she couldn’t bring her
self to ask if Sox were actually his dog.
“Yes, I did,” he answered. “It looks a lot like Missy but not exactly. Missy is a border collie pup. She’s wearing a pink collar and—”
“Missy?” Meghan cut in. “The dog you’re looking for is a female?”
“Yes. She got out of the yard on Saturday—”
“This past Saturday? Three days ago?”
“Yes. The boys were playing, and they left the gate open.”
Meghan’s heart started to beat again.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “but this dog isn’t Missy. This one’s a male, and I fished him out of the lake almost three weeks ago.”
The man gave a sigh of disappointment. “Darn. I thought maybe you’d found her.”
“Have you checked with the ASPCA?”
“Yes. No luck there, either. She’s got a microchip, and we’re offering a one-hundred-dollar reward. I take it the dog you found didn’t have a chip, huh?”
Meghan swallowed down the lump rising in her throat. “I hadn’t thought of having him checked for that.”
“Please do,” the man said. “If a family goes to the expense of having a microchip implanted, that means they love the dog. It’s almost guaranteed there’ll be a reward for returning him. Why, I’d pay anything to get Missy back. Our boys are sick over losing her, and my wife is beside herself.”
“I know what you mean,” Meghan said grimly. “I lost a dog I loved, too.”
“Well, then, you understand.”
Feeling his pain tug at her own heart, Meghan offered to run a free ad with Missy’s picture in the Snip ’N’ Save.
“Maybe that will help you find her,” she said.
He thanked her and promised to send Missy’s picture that afternoon.
You might think Meghan would be happy after dodging another bullet, but she wasn’t. The thought of Sox possibly having a microchip implanted by a family who loved him settled in her brain and refused to let go.
She looked down at the dog lying beside her desk and said, “This isn’t something I want to do, but I won’t be able to live with myself if I don’t.”
The dog whined and dropped his head down between his paws.
Meghan
There is an almost invisible line between doing what is right and doing what is right for you. At this moment, I’m standing with one foot on each side of that line. I figured my conscience would force me to do what’s right, but doing so means risking the one thing I love more than I can possibly say. The thought of having Sox checked for a microchip has become a battle of wills between my conscience and my heart.
I thought if I didn’t give him a real name I wouldn’t be so likely to fall in love with him, but I was only fooling myself. The truth is I started loving him that day at the lake. We survived the storm together. I needed him as much as he needed me. He was my reason to keep swimming.
I think about that, and it’s easy to rationalize that my having him was meant to be. I console myself with the thought that at least I tried to find his owner; I made an effort. Then when I’m just about convinced it would be okay to stop looking, I remember how I felt when Clancy disappeared.
Night after night I cried myself to sleep wondering where he was. Every night I got down on my knees and prayed somebody with a kind heart had found Clancy, somebody who would love him and take good care of him.
That’s what love is—wanting something good for somebody else more than what you want for yourself. Yes, the thought of doing this tears my heart apart, but I love Sox too much to leave this last stone unturned. Tomorrow I am taking him to the vet and having him scanned for a microchip.
It’ll take every ounce of resolve I have to go through with this, but I’ve got to do it whether I want to or not.
The Vet Visit
On Wednesday morning, Meghan dressed in a way that reflected her mood: gray T-shirt and jeans frayed at the bottom. She twisted her hair back in a hair claw and dabbed on a bit of lip gloss, but that was it. Her only thought was to get this ordeal over with as quickly as possible.
She fed Sox and filled his water bowl, then sat down at the table with nothing but a cup of black coffee. In the center of the table there was a platter of pancakes and sausages, but Meghan made no move toward them.
Lila looked at her with a disapproving frown. “Is that all you’re having?”
Meghan nodded. “I don’t have much of an appetite this morning. I’ll grab something at lunchtime.”
“Starving yourself is not going to solve anything,” Lila grumbled. “Since last Saturday you’ve barely picked at your food because of that dog! If you’re so set on having a pet, go buy one you don’t have to worry about losing.”
“Sox is special, Mama. He reminds me of—”
“I know, Clancy.” Lila took a plate from the cupboard, plopped a single pancake on it, and set it in front of Meghan. “You’re not leaving this house until you eat!”
Without bothering to pour syrup over it as she usually did, Meghan dutifully cut off a bite of pancake and stuffed it into her mouth. “If I get an all clear from Dr. Anderson, I’ll treat everybody to a celebratory lunch. How’s that?”
Lila couldn’t shake loose the thoughts of what had happened when Clancy went missing. “And what if the dog does have a chip? What if he belongs to somebody else?”
Meghan narrowed her eyes. In an embittered voice, she replied, “Then I’ll have to give him back.” Leaving most of the pancake on the plate, she pushed back from the table and clicked the leash onto Sox’s collar.
“We’ll be back in an hour or so,” she said, and hurried out the door.
The drive to the Anderson Animal Clinic was seven miles, but with morning traffic it took almost twenty minutes. By the time they arrived, the parking lot was already crowded.
Meghan could still remember the last time she was here. It was with Clancy, eight, maybe nine years ago. Dr. Walter Anderson was the family vet. He took care of both Clancy and Beulah, Lila’s cat. If bad news were coming, Dr. Anderson was the kind of man who could break it gently. He not only cared for pets but also cared about their owners.
When Meghan opened the car door, Sox jumped out and trotted toward the front of the clinic, almost as if it were a place he was familiar with.
“You act like you’ve been here before,” Meghan said.
Sox put his nose to the ground and followed a scent along the walkway.
She reined in his leash, and they entered the clinic together. Everything was exactly the same as she remembered. The row of leatherette chairs, the jar of treats on the counter—even Emily, the receptionist she’d known for years, was still there. The only difference seemed to be that Emily had gained a few pounds, and her hair was now streaked with silver.
She looked up. “Well, goodness gracious, we haven’t seen you for years.” She smiled, then came from behind the counter, hugged Meghan, and bent to pet Sox. “Now who is this cute little fellow?”
“I’m calling him Sox for now,” Meghan replied. “He’s a rescue I found at the lake. I wanted to check and see if maybe he has a microchip.”
“No problem. I know you usually see Dr. Anderson, but he’s in surgery this morning. Would it be okay if I put you in with Dr. Whitely?”
Meghan gave a reluctant nod. “Sure.”
“Have a seat. I’ll take you back as soon as there’s a room available.”
After a twenty-minute wait, Meghan and Sox were led back to one of the small examination rooms.
“Make yourself comfy,” Emily said. “Dr. Whitely will be with you shortly.”
Another five minutes ticked by before the door swung open and the most gorgeous man Meghan had ever seen stepped into the room. He was tall like her daddy, with light-brown hair that had streaks of sunlit gold running through it.
He stuck out his hand. “Good morning. I’m Dr. Tom Whitely.”
Meghan automatically extended her arm, but when they shook hands she held on to his for a time that was l
onger than necessary. He had bright hazel-colored eyes, the kind that captured her gaze and wouldn’t allow her to look anywhere else. She found it almost impossible to tear hers away from them.
“I’m Meghan Briggs,” she finally said, “and this, Dr. Whitely, is Sox.”
A faint smile played at his mouth when she used the formal version of his name. “Please, call me Tom.” He squatted in front of Sox and scratched behind the dog’s ear.
Tom Whitely’s touch was gentle, and Sox responded by licking his arm. The dog quite obviously liked him. So did Meghan.
As if it were expected to be a shared examination, she squatted alongside the dog. “Sox is a rescue I found at the lake. I need to know if he has a microchip with his owner’s name.”
Feeling good about the ear scratching, Sox rolled over on his back. Tom Whitely laughed, gave the dog’s belly a rub, then stood. Meghan rose when he did.
“Are you working with Dr. Anderson now?”
“For the next month I will be,” he said. “Dr. Anderson is retiring, and I’ve bought the practice.” He allowed his eyes to meet Meghan’s. “I hope I can continue to keep your business.”
Suddenly Meghan regretted she hadn’t taken more time with her makeup or worn something with an edgier look. Designer jeans maybe, or boots and her short black skirt with a top more colorful than the faded gray T-shirt.
“Of course you will,” she said. “Definitely.” Sputtering and trying to pull her thoughts together, she casually swished back a curl that had fallen loose of the clip, then added, “I can see Sox already likes you. And you seem to have a wonderful way with animals.”
He smiled, and there was a certain shyness in the smile that made it all the more appealing. Lifting Sox onto the examination table, he pulled a small handheld scanner from the drawer.
“Okay, now, let’s see what we have here.”
The Summer of New Beginnings: A Magnolia Grove Novel Page 11
