“Can I see her?”
The owner looked at me like I’d lost my mind, which I supposed I had. I knelt down. “What’s her name?”
“Muffy.”
“Come here, Muffy,” I beckoned, patting the ground. “Come here, sweet girl.”
The dog crept toward me, her head hunkered down and her tail between her legs. She stopped at the opening of the cage. I stroked her neck and behind her ears. She cautiously left the cage and sat next to me while I continued to pet her.
“She’s a good dog,” the owner said. “She’s scared of other dogs, which don’t work out so well on my farm. In fact, she’s pretty much scared of everythin’. I'm surprised she came out of the cage to you. She don't normally take to strangers.”
Muffy’s sad eyes looked up at me. My tummy tightened with empathy. We were a lot alike, Muffy and I, both afraid of the world and what was in it.
“How much is she?” I asked, taking the sides of her face into my hands.
“I ain’t gonna charge you nothin’, you can just have her. Like I said, I was gonna take her to the pound, although, honestly, I didn’t want to do that. She just showed up at my farm one day and had a litter of pups a couple days later. I kept her and the pups until they was ready to go.”
“What do you say, Muffy? Wanna come home with me?” I could have sworn she wagged her tail, or she may have moved it to pass gas, which was highly probable from the stench suddenly filling the air. I decided to go with the wag.
I tried coaxing her into the car without much success. Finally, I scooped her up, surprised to find her lighter than she looked, and plopped her into the driver’s seat. She peered up at me.
“You gonna drive? That’d be a sight. A driving dog. What? No? Then scoot over.” But she didn't budge, so I sat on the edge of the seat and pushed her over to the passenger side with my hip.
The farmer loaded up the cage, laughing.
“We’re puttin’ on a show, Muffy. Let’s go home and get some dinner.”
I drove with the windows halfway down. Muffy stuck her face over the top of the glass, her tongue hanging out. I prayed she didn’t get carsick.
When I pulled up, I noticed Joe’s car in his driveway. Why’re you even looking? That man was a confusing mess. I only had five days left. Instinct told me that wasn’t nearly enough time to figure out Joe McAllister.
I carried Muffy into the house. After I set her down on the kitchen floor, she began sniffing everything while I rummaged through the refrigerator for dinner. I couldn’t remember the last time I went to the grocery store.
“Whatcha want for dinner, Muffy? There’s not much here.”
Muffy didn’t answer. She turned around in circles, then sat in the corner of the kitchen behind the table. She laid her head on her front paws and stared up at me. I’d never seen such a pathetic sight in all my life.
I made scrambled eggs and fed half to Muffy, half to me. Afterward, Muffy got a really strange look on her face. Uncle Earl had made a face like that after eating a batch of bad pickles once and that didn’t turn out so well. I ran to my bedroom and found a belt, which I strapped around Muffy’s middle section. I was afraid I’d choke her if I put it around her neck.
We barely made it outside before Muffy squatted next to a bush and made the nastiest mess I had ever seen. Talk about false advertising. They forget to mention that part of pet ownership in the dog food commercials.
“Feel better?” I asked Muffy in a baby voice. “I promise to take good care of you in the five days I have left.” It was then I realized in five days I wouldn't be around to take care of her. I’d been a pet owner for less than an hour and I was already failing miserably.
“What do you mean you only have five days left?”
I whipped my head around to see Joe a few feet away.
Crappy doodles.
He looked angry. Not just angry, menacing.
“Where you goin’ in five days, Rose?”
“Nowhere. Not that it’s any of your business, Joe McAllister.”
He heaved a sigh and kicked a piece of gravel. “You’re right, of course. What you do is none of my business.” Then he stood next to me, whispering in my ear. “You seem like a nice girl, Rose, I hate to see you mixed up in something really messy.”
His breath sent chills down my back, all the way to my toes. How could this man do this to me? What on earth was he talking about? Then I realized he was looking toward the dog and the huge pile she just made.
“I admit it was kind of impulsive to get into such a commitment, but I think I can handle it.”
Joe stepped away, his eyes wide open, like he’d stepped into a pit of rattlesnakes. “So you admit you’re involved?”
“Well, yeah. The evidence is right in front of you.” I tugged on Muffy’s belt. “Come on, Muffy. Let’s go in the back.” I yanked and pulled and ended up dragging her to the backyard. Unfortunately, Joe followed me.
“What are you thinking, Rose? Do you realize what kind of trouble you’ve got yourself into?”
“Joe, seriously, it’s not that big of a deal. Lots of people do it.”
He raised his hands to his head and groaned, spinning around in frustration. He stopped and looked more serious than I had ever seen him, even more than the night Momma was murdered. “I’ve got to get you out of this. Maybe it’s not too late.”
I huffed and stamped my foot. “You seriously think I can’t handle a dog? Do I appear that irresponsible?”
Joe turned as pale as a ghost and I expected him to fold up and float away any minute. “A dog?” he choked out. “You’re talking about a dog?”
“I know dogs are lots of trouble but I’ve always wanted one and I figured, why not? I’m a grown woman.”
Joe looked torn between guilt and relief.
I cocked my head to the side and studied him. “Wait, what were you talkin’ about?”
An ornery grin lifted one corner of his mouth as he lifted an eyebrow and darted his eyes toward Muffy. “You call that thing a dog? Looks like a ginormous rat to me.” And what on earth do you have around that poor creature’s gut?”
I took offense to him insulting my dog and put my hand on my hip, glaring. “First of all, she is not a rat; she is a dog. Granted she’s not some pedigreed foofoo dog, but she’s my dog. And second, it all happened so fast, I didn't have time to get her any supplies, so I put a belt around her to bring her out. I was afraid she’s run away.”
“Why’s it around her stomach and not her neck?”
“I was worried I’d choke her.”
Joe snickered. “That is the ugliest dog I have ever seen.”
“You hush! Muffy can hear you!”
“Muffy?”
“Yes, Muffy. And quit insulting her. She has a very delicate temperament.” I lifted my chin to show my distain. At that moment, Muffy squatted and let out the loudest fart I had ever heard, accompanied by the nastiest and worst smelling pile I had ever experienced. The reek of it filled the space around us and I couldn’t help fanning in front of my nose. Traitor.
Joe started belly laughing, leaning over his legs.
I was getting angrier by the minute. “What’s so funny?”
“Your delicate dog.” He said in bursts of laughter.
“Come on, Muffy, we don’t have to take this.” I gave the belt a tug and Muffy farted again.
I thought Joe was going to fall over. I wished he would so I could kick him. Afraid to pull on her again, I gave her a tug anyway and the air filled with stench.
Joe gasped for breath. “You should put her on one of those shows like World’s Amazing Pets. Muffy will make you a fortune.”
I couldn’t help but smile. It was kind of funny. “So Muffy has a flatulence problem. I’ll just put her on a high fiber diet.”
I started giggling then, and we sat on the lawn, both of us laughing together in my backyard. It felt so good to share something funny with someone. I wanted lots of laughter to fill my last five day
s, but the thought of it suddenly sobered me.
There was always the chance it wouldn't come true, like the last vision of my death. But I knew that was a fluke. The majority of my visions came true. And since I had no idea how to change it, I had to accept it for what it was.
“Hey, ” I said, realizing Joe had distracted me. “If you weren’t talkin’ about Muffy earlier, what were you talkin’ about?”
His smile disappeared. He hesitated before he asked, “Who said I wasn’t talkin’ about Muffy?”
I shot him a nasty look. “I’m not an idiot, Joe.”
He leaned toward me and whispered into my ear. “No, but you are beautiful.” His head stayed there, his breath warming my cheek and neck. Every nerve of my body jumped to full alert.
“I like your dog. I think she’s full of potential.” His voice was low and husky in my ear.
I had a hard time concentrating. “Why did you leave last night?” I asked, the words tumbling out in a rush.
“Because I was a fool. What man could leave you?” He put his finger on my chin and turned my face toward his.
“Why do you keep changin’ the subject?” I whispered.
His eyes watched my mouth, then raised. “Why do you keep askin’ questions?” His head lowered slowly until his lips were on mine. I forgot about questions. I even forgot about Muffy until she howled.
I jerked away, startled. “What? What’s wrong?” I asked her.
Joe laughed. “I don’t think she likes me kissin’ you.”
I reached over and rubbed her head. “It’s okay, baby. The big bad man isn’t kissin’ me anymore.”
Joe leaned back, his hands braced behind him. “I take back what I said about your dog havin’ potential.”
“So what were you talkin’ about earlier?”
“Your dog.”
I turned to him and raised my eyebrows. “I’m experiencin’ déjà vu.”
“Why did you tell your dog you’d be leavin’ in five days?”
We sat in silence for a few moments while I rubbed Muffy behind her ears.
“Where are you going, Rose? I thought you weren’t supposed to leave the county.”
“Who said I was leavin’ the county? Last time I checked, county lockup was in Fenton County.”
Joe sat up. “What are you talkin’ about?”
“The police think I staged the break-in to take the focus of Momma’s murder off of me. My attorney expects them to arrest me by next week.” It was all true, even if it wasn’t what the five days meant. “But if you went to the police and told them you saw someone, it might get me off the hook.” And give me one less thing to worry about.
Joe leaned his elbows on his knees, grasping his head in his hands. Then he let loose a string of obscenities. “I can’t.” His head still hung between his arms, muffling his words.
It didn't matter, the meaning was clear enough to pierce my heart. I got up and started to walk away, but he grabbed my wrist. I stood there, neither one of us saying anything. I kept waiting for him to say he changed his mind or let me go, but he did neither. He couldn't have it both ways.
“I thought you were my friend, Joe.” Tears burned my eyes and made my words scratchy. “You’re just going to sit here and let them arrest me.”
“Why didn’t you tell them about me?” He sounded like he was in pain.
“Because you asked me not to.”
He looked up, his eyes full of guilt and anguish. “Why didn’t you tell them anyway?”
“Because I’m gonna leave it up to you and hope you pick me over your silly pride.” He didn’t say anything, his face begging my forgiveness and I knew I lost again. I always lost. Why did I think it would ever turn out differently?
“Stupid me.” I jerked my arm away and picked up Muffy’s belt.
“Go home, Joe. You just keep hurtin’ me and I keep lettin’ you. Please, just go home.” I started crying and I didn't care, I had no pride left. I’d left that behind the minute I let him kiss me after finding out about Hilary.
But Joe didn't get up. He sat there in the grass having the nerve to look all tortured and angsty when I was the one about to get arrested.
When I settled into bed that night, I told Muffy it was her job to protect me if someone broke in again. It was then, as I drifted off to sleep, that I realized I’d never told Joe I wasn’t allowed to leave the county.
Chapter Thirteen
Early the next day, I vowed I was done with Joe McAllister. If I didn't know I was going to die in four days, I might tell the police anyway. But this way I could die and let Joe suffer in his own guilt. He could spend the rest of his life wishing he’d done the right thing.
But I began to wonder if he’d feel guilty at all. How did he know I couldn’t leave the county? Why wouldn’t he go to the police? The night of Momma’s murder, why did he tell me he was “just the neighbor” as though he could actually be something more? What if Joe McAllister, the man who helped me paint my living room, who gave me my first kiss and made me laugh until I cried, played a part in Momma’s murder? What if he was the intruder who broke into my house?
It seemed inconceivable. But there was no refuting he had information I hadn’t given him and that he wouldn't talk to the police even though he knew my arrest was inevitable. Everything pointed to him being involved.
But why would he do all those nice things for me including putting new locks on my door, if he wanted to kill me? I closed my eyes, and sank into the big chair in the living room, remembering Joe’s breath on my neck and his lips on mine. How could the same man want to hurt me?
Muffy began to whine and set her chin on my knees. I opened my eyes and smiled at her forlorn face. I had no idea dogs could look so sad. I rubbed her head, surprised I’d become so attached to her already. “What’s wrong, Muffy?”
She set her paw on my lap, whining.
“Do you need to go outside? I need to get you some dog food. And a leash.” Muffy’s butt made an odd noise and a stink filled the room. I waved my hand, trying to move the smell. “And perhaps some diapers. Whew!”
The cable man arrived at nine, and left an hour later since I only had him put in one line. When I signed the ticket, I mentioned my surprise that he came out the day after I called.
He chuckled. “I’ve never seen that happen. It must be your lucky day.”
My lucky day. I liked the sound of that.
I'd studied my list while I waited for him to finish. To my amazement, I had checked off nine items already. Of course, there was the empty number twenty-nine to deal with, but I decided not to worry about that one. I’d already had enough new experiences, any of which I could plug in the space.
I needed a plan. I had four days left. To get them all accomplished, I needed to complete five a day. Which five would I do today?
I decided to pick out the items that looked the hardest. Maybe I could do one of those a day. Those were: the Seven Deadly Sins in one week, ride in a convertible, do more with a man, go to Italy, ride a motorcycle, fly in an airplane, play in the rain. That was seven and only four days. The sins needed to be spread out anyway. I just needed to make sure I did two a day and I’d be done with time to spare. The two that worried me the most were going to Italy, which seemed out of the question, and play in the rain. What if it didn't rain between now and Sunday?
I decided to worry about those two later. Today, I’d just wing it with the sins. And for the other wishes, it seemed logical to start at the top. Buy some makeup, visit a beauty salon, get a pedicure. The next item: ride in a convertible. How could I do that?
I’d rent one. I got out the phone book and looked up a car rental agency. “I’d like to rent a convertible.”
“How long? A day? A week?”
Shoot, why not a week? I told him I’d be there within an hour.
When it came time for me to leave, Muffy followed me around, hanging her head and tucking her tail between her legs. “Don’t be doin’ that.” I said, rubb
ing her head. “I can’t take you with me, but I’ll bring you back a surprise when I come home, okay?”
Muffy seemed unconvinced.
With all the farting she’d done, I decided it would be safer to keep her in the bathroom. Definitely an easier clean up if she made a mess.
I started out the door and saw the wooden box on the kitchen table, where I left it days ago, still in the paper bag. As an afterthought, I grabbed the bag and threw it in the car.
I was ready to see what was inside.
The rental agency was the first stop. I’d never rented a car before, but it proved easy enough, and I left with a white Sebring convertible. I climbed into the front seat and studied the buttons until I figured out how to put the top down. The heat had risen to a nearly intolerable level, the high humidity causing steam to rise from the pavement, but the whole point of having a convertible was to put the top down.
I drove toward downtown and realized why I always saw people who drove convertibles wearing sunglasses. The blinding sun made it difficult to see. Necessity instigated my next stop. Wal-Mart had a multitude of sunglasses on display. After trying on multiple pairs, I finally decided on one with black plastic frames and large, dark lenses.
As I walked toward the pharmacy section, the lingerie department caught my eye. I blushed thinking about Joe seeing me in my nighty. Further down my list wear a lacy bra and panties lingered. I forced myself to ignore the utilitarian underwear I usually wore, and focused on the lacy, pretty things.
They were beautiful and came in so many colors and styles. Wickedness took hold of me. Why wear lingerie only one day? Why not every day for the next four days? I picked out white, black, lavender and red, the evilest of all. No one would ever see them, so why not? I took them into the fitting room and tried on the black set first, amazed the woman returning my gaze in the mirror was me. I looked like a Victoria’s Secret model.
I was buying all four.
I’d just have to make sure to wear the white lingerie on Sunday. When they found my body.
For the first time, the seriousness of it hit me. I was going to die. My breath caught in my chest, and I gasped for air, sitting down on the dressing room bench.
Rose Gardner 01 - Twenty-Eight and a Half Wishes Page 14
