If the Fates Allow

by Annie Harper

  He looks heartbroken, then leans forward and directs his kind, twinkling eyes at Avery. “Now Avery, just because you’ve grown up doesn’t mean you shouldn’t celebrate. There’s still plenty of joy to be found.”

  Avery whirls to face him, releasing the ladder. “What did you just—”

  “Avery!”

  She snaps back to attention just in time to stop the ladder from leaning dangerously to one side. “Sorry, sorry.”

  Tracie fixes the garland and makes it safely down, then Avery helps her carry the ladder away. A long line of excited children and frazzled parents starts to gather, so they hurry as much as they can.

  “Where did you find that Santa?” Avery asks, stumbling backwards with the heavy ladder.

  “Why, at the North Pole of course!” Tracie says, much too loudly for Avery alone, then purposefully glances behind Avery and juts her chin. Avery looks; the line has curved all the way around to the back of Santa’s village, and little ears are listening to their conversation.

  “Right. Of course! Where else but the North Pole?” Avery says, just as loudly. These kids will grow up and grow jaded like everyone else soon enough, but not because of Avery, not today. Back at the register, she tries to inject a little more holiday cheer into her cashiering.

  Santa’s Village shuts down before the stores do, so the mall is still busy with holiday shoppers when Avery grabs a food court dinner to go and walks on aching feet toward parking deck H. She passes by a store advertising “gifts for your pet,” and, in the window, they have little fleece blankets on sale: two for the price of one.

  The shelter is only open for emergency drop-offs by the time she gets arrives there; Avery doesn’t think Grace works that late; she hopes Deb will at least be there.

  “Can I help you?”

  Avery squints at her. “It’s Avery. Puckett. I volunteer here. I was just here working with Grace.” Deb looks at her for a long, skeptical minute, then rummages in a drawer, and finally pushes Avery’s volunteer badge across the counter.

  Tino is in the back fixing a latch on one of the small kennels, but the shelter is hushed otherwise; most of the dogs are asleep on the cement floors of their cages or on those hard, bare cots. Avery stops by Pepper’s cage first. Pepper heaves herself off the cot as soon as Avery enters, wags her tail and snuffles Avery’s hands. When Avery squats to unfold one of the blankets, Pepper gently kisses her face. The blanket is blue with snowflakes; it matches Pepper’s snowman collar. Pepper sniffs the blanket, then looks up at Avery with her warm, brown eyes as if to say thank you. Avery, for a moment, thinks seriously about taking her home.

  “There you go,” Avery whispers when Pepper settles back onto the cot with a heaving sigh. Avery rubs her soft ears and silky tummy. “You’re a good girl. I’m sorry people suck.”

  Rudy cowers and shakes, as usual, and investigates the blanket only after Avery has moved back into the walkway. Then he sniffs it all over, climbs onto the cot, turns around in a circle five times, and settles in. “Two down,” Avery says. Two blankets for two dogs out of all the dogs here waiting for a home. It doesn’t seem like much; in fact, it doesn’t seem like anything. An infinite number of dogs could come through the doors of Halfway Home looking for another chance at happiness. That is, if the shelter can stay open at all.

  Chapter Eight

  Bright and early Sunday morning, Avery is back in Rudy’s kennel, working on attempt number thirty-seven or so of trying to wrangle Rudy onto a leash. When she does finally get it around his neck, he throws himself onto the floor and writhes in agony. “See? Demon.”

  Grace laughs and continues to wait outside Rudy’s kennel while he thrashes and flings himself around and yelps. “This is new for him, and it’s scary. Just do what you normally do, and he’ll be fine.”

  Avery observes the dog’s hysterics and frowns. “What do I normally do?”

  “You have a very calming presence. It’s a nice balancing energy for someone who’s more intense.” Grace’s eyes are soft and hold Avery’s gaze long enough that Rudy’s temper tantrum peters out. “Okay, now,” Grace, steady and commanding, instructs quietly. “Stay calm and relaxed, just like you were before. Walk forward and give the leash a tug and, if he panics again, just stop and wait. Repeat.”

  Rudy’s freak-outs get shorter and less violent with every attempt, and eventually he does walk with them to a wide outdoor pen that has a few toys scattered inside. “I’m hoping he’ll feel less threatened in a neutral environment,” Grace explains as she closes the gate behind her. Indeed, Rudy doesn't bark or charge at her. He does sit trembling in a corner.

  “Come sit with me,” Grace says, patting a spot next to her. “Let’s see what we can make happen.” She rakes her hair back into a half-ponytail; her back bows inward and the still-loose strands of her hair brush her neck. Avery swallows thickly and kneels. It’s a waiting game then, hoping that Rudy will approach one or both of them for treats, hoping that he can trust them. If he can, maybe he’ll find a home in time for Christmas.

  Avery’s usual laid-back demeanor is important, or so Grace says. Unfortunately, Avery’s finding it very challenging to be calm when she’s sitting close enough to feel the warmth emanating from Grace’s body and smell the hints of Grace’s citrus shampoo in the chilly breeze, and with the way Grace keeps glancing at her.

  “Can I ask you something?” Grace says after a stretch of quiet minutes.

  Avery heart thumps too hard. “Yes? I mean. Yes.” Grace flashes a beaming smile, and Avery is now barely clinging to the panicked edge of calm, cool, and composed.

  “You don’t have to answer if it’s too personal, but…” Grace pauses to form her question, tilts her head, and sucks in her bottom lip. Avery can’t tear her eyes away until Grace says, “Do you not like dogs?”

  Avery shudders out a breath; her shoulders sag. Oh. That. “I— Uh—” How to explain to this beautiful, kind woman who has dedicated her life to helping dogs that Avery finds them obnoxious? That the problem is really her, and not the dogs at all. “No, not really. Sorry.”

  Grace just smiles, though, a small, patient-seeming one. “Don’t be sorry. I mean, the fact is, you’re here to help him anyway.” She pauses, then her face morphs into delighted surprise. She nods to Avery’s left, then puts her finger against her lips. The only reason Avery can look away from Grace’s fingertip pressed into the bow of her top lip is the surprising press of something cold and wet on her hand.

  “Oh!”

  Rudy flinches and backs away from her. Avery turns her hand over, opening her palm slowly and offering a toy. He sniffs the air, creeps closer, slinks back, creeps closer. Then he takes the porcupine toy from her hand and trots off to play, wagging his tail and romping around like a normal dog and not a terrified goblin demon.

  Grace’s grin is so wide and jubilant, and Rudy seems so happy, that Avery gets swept up in the moment, clapping and cheering and taking Grace’s hand, forgetting all about her need to be cool and distant to save herself from disappointment.

  “We did it!” Avery says.

  Grace looks at their joined hands, and her cheeks bloom pink. Avery releases her hand immediately. They both speak at the same time.

  “Um.”

  “It’s o—”

  “Just got excited—”

  “I really don’t—”

  They stop speaking. Avery rubs at her neck, and Grace’s cheeks grow a deeper pink. Rudy squeaks and squeaks the purple porcupine toy. Then the alarm on Avery’s phone rings, startling them both out of the moment. “I have to get to work,” Avery says, grateful for the excuse to escape this awkward moment. She’s shocked at her own behavior; she never makes the first move—or any move. If that was even a move, which it wasn’t, because Grace doesn’t like her like that, Grace is just nice to everyone because she’s nice. Avery scrambles to stand up and yanks open the gate
.

  “Okay. Bye.”

  “Wait!”

  Avery pauses. Maybe Grace didn’t mind holding hands. Maybe she wants to hold hands again. Maybe she wants to do more than hold hands, and Avery can find out if her lips are as soft as they look. “Can you help me get him back to his kennel? If you don’t mind.”

  “Oh. Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,” Avery rambles, as if she’s trying to make things even more awkward. They get Rudy back to his cage with only a few hysterics, and he goes right to his bed, exhausted from the effort of being calm and reasonable.

  “Oh, hey,” Grace says. “Do you know where that blanket came from?”

  “Oh. I picked it up for him,” Avery says, “Pepper too. They were on sale.” It really was no big deal, but Grace gives her a warm look.

  “So this may be a weird proposition…” Grace bites her lip, then smiles, then asks, “Would you maybe want to come by my place sometime later this week—”

  “Yes,” Avery interrupts, not needing to hear anything else.

  “… and meet my dogs?” Grace finishes.

  “Oh,” Avery says. Right. “Sure that sounds… Sure.” Or maybe she could get in her car, drive down I-40 until she runs out of gas, and start a new life, in which she doesn’t keep embarrassing herself in front of Grace. “It’s a not-date,” Avery adds as she walks away, just to keep the awkward streak going.

  Chapter Nine

  Rudy, enticed by treats and the porcupine toy, makes slow and steady progress the rest of the week and grows braver bit by bit. Meanwhile, Avery has made progress in accepting her hopeless crush on Grace and sometimes even manages to be slightly normal around her.

  “A shelter is tough for any dog,” Grace says as she leads Avery and Rudy outside and opens the gate to the wooded property surrounding the shelter. “We do what we can to keep them comfortable. A dog belongs in a home, though.” She shrugs, then glances down Avery’s body and moves closer. “Here. Like this.” Grace sidles up behind Avery and slides one palm up the curve of Avery’s spine to straighten it. She takes Avery’s arm in her other hand—the one holding the leash—and tugs it to hang loose at her side instead of clenched anxiously against her chest. “Calm and confident. He’s insecure, so he’s looking to you for assurance. If you feel safe, he’ll feel safe.”

  Avery struggles to release a calm breath. Grace’s close presence makes her feel many things: Heart-fluttering nervousness, yes, but the more time they spend together, the less that’s true. She does feel safe with Grace. Still, being around her is exciting and exhilarating for Avery in a way that being with Mary Anne—or anyone—never was.

  “That’s good,” Grace says, low and warm in Avery’s ear. “Just like that.”

  Avery shivers. Step by step, they move forward into the quiet grove of pine trees. Rudy relaxes, freed from the kennel. He trots beside Avery; his giant, goofy-looking ears bounce. He’s kind of cute, now that Avery is used to him.

  “I just love taking walks in the woods.” Grace sighs. In the chilly afternoon her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are bright. She’s beautiful, achingly so. Avery wants so badly to kiss her. Avery can’t be imagining the chemistry between them, what if she makes the first move, just once? Avery stops, faces Grace, and steps forward. Rudy sprawls, content in a patch of sunlight. Grace smiles her brilliant smile. It’s a moment of joy. This feeling, this warmth and brightness, this is what Avery’s been missing.

  “Grace, I—”

  Grace’s phone trills, shattering the silence of the woods. “Shoot, I have to go out on a call. Can you get him back by yourself?”

  Avery feigns being unbothered. “No problemo.”

  Grace hustles off. Avery mentally kicks herself for saying no problemo, because it’s not only a dumb thing to say, it’s also her not being honest about her feelings, again.

  Avery deposits Rudy in his cage and stops by Pepper’s kennel to say hello. She’s sleeping, as she so often is, but drags her weary, old body, tail wagging, to greet Avery. She may be “pen-palling” Rudy, but if there was ever a dog that could capture her heart, it would be sweet, gentle, gray-muzzled Pepper.

  “‘Sup, Avery.”

  “Oh. Hi, Tino.” He’s dragging a long folding table behind him. The horrible scraping noise of metal on cement causes a chain reaction of equally loud barking from the kennels. “Need some help?” Avery takes the dragging end, and they waddle it to the office and set it against one bare wall.

  “Thanks.” Tino rubs a spot on his arm that took the brunt of the table’s weight. “Trying to get an adopt-a-thon going.”

  Avery remembers the one that had been going on when she first started coming by and how chaotic it was. “How often do you do those?” Rudy isn’t ready for adoption yet. He hates everyone but Avery and Grace, and even Grace sometimes—soon though, maybe.

  “Usually once a month, outside of the shelter as much as we can.” Tino opens a drawer in the gray metal desk. “We have these pop-up events, adopt-a-thons in a box sorta. Just need a location and we’re good to go. If we don’t make our budget by the end of the year, we’re toast. So we’ve been trying to do those more often.” He pulls a stack of adoption forms from the filing cabinet. Avery glances at the poster chart keeping track of the funds needed with the very small amount of funds raised filled in. She nods at it. “That budget?”

  “Yup.” Tino’s expression is not optimistic. “Toast.”

  Avery works that afternoon and evening. She’s warmed up to the job, even finds it fun. It’s hard not to get caught up in the exuberance of the kids, in the magic they can still see. Tonight, though, she’s distracted. Tomorrow is her maybe-a-date, no, not-a-date, definitely not-a-date, but maybe it could be, at Grace’s house.

  During a lull, Avery plucks a candy cane from the oversized stocking hanging next to Santa’s throne. “What do you want for Christmas, Avery?” Santa asks as she snaps off a pepperminty bite. What does she want? A couch. A permanent job she actually enjoys, love, happiness, peace on earth, a lifetime supply of vanilla ice cream. But mostly… What will happen to all the dogs at the shelter if they aren’t adopted? What will happen to Rudy? To Grace?

  “Is a miracle too much to ask for?”

  Chapter Ten

  Avery has one date outfit and, much like her one beige work blazer, it has a stain: spaghetti sauce on the elbow of her off-white blouse and the knee of her jeans that are too skinny for normal wear. This date with Grace is not a date. Even still, Grace deserves better than Avery’s one spaghetti-stained date outfit. So she stands at her closet until she annoys herself enough to just pick already and finally puts on nicely fitted red jeans and a polka-dotted button-down she’d shoved in the back of her closet and forgotten about— too bright, too peppy. But tonight the outfit is perfect. Tonight Avery wants to be bright.

  Moving on to the second stage of her pre-date, not-a-date prepping, Avery stands in front of the mirror staring hopelessly at her hair. If she stands there long enough, perhaps it will transform into glossy, tumbling waves. Stage three of her pathetic routine is trying and failing to put on makeup. Mercifully, her phone rings with an unfamiliar number.

  “Hi, Avery. It’s Tracie from Santa’s Village.”

  “Yeah. Hey, Tracie.” Avery scrutinizes herself in the bathroom mirror and frowns; maybe she should start over. “I hate to do this,” Tracie says, “but I’ve got three of my Santa’s elves out with the flu today. Do you think you can come in and cover a shift?”

  She isn’t going to Grace’s until later tonight; work will be a welcome distraction from hours of aimless waffling. “Yeah, I can come in.”

  Tracie sighs. “Thank you. See you in a bit. Oh, and please do not make out with anyone on staff, I can’t afford to lose more people.”

  Avery pulls a face at that, making out with the college-aged Santa’s elves was not high on her list. “Uh, won’t be a problem
.”

  It’s getting closer to Christmas, and the mall and Santa’s Village are hopping. Avery soon finds that helping kids get to and from Santa Claus’ lap is quite a bit more exhausting than running the cash register, even more so today with the smaller-than-usual staff. By the time she’s off for the evening, she’s dead on her feet and is running late to her date, not-a-date at Grace’s house. Still, when she passes by the upscale store where she bought the dog blankets, Avery is drawn in by the promise of a forty-percent-off-everything, one-day-only sale. She buys as many dog blankets as she can afford, and, at two-for-one and forty percent off, it’s a decent number, though still not enough. “You must know some cold puppies!” The woman at the cash register says, in exactly the sort of cheery, booming voice Avery expects of an upscale gift boutique worker in a suburban mall.

  “It’s for an animal shelter,” Avery mutters, struggling to get her wallet out from beneath the drape of her ugly Christmas sweater. “I’m volunteering there.” She hands her card over the counter.

  “Well.” The boutique lady sets both hands over her heart and shakes her head. Avery works as a cashier, she doesn’t mean to be annoying, but she’s already running late, come on. She flicks the card with subtle impatience.

  “Hold on.” The lady strides into the storage room behind the checkout, and Avery grunts in frustration. She’s officially standing up Grace now, her feet are killing her, and the lady behind Avery is making irritated noises, as if Avery is the one holding everything up. She just wanted to buy some dumb dog blankets.

  “Okay. No charge.” The manager bursts back into the store. “We’re always looking for ways to give back to the community here at Sweet Chics Boutique.” She places more blankets on the counter in front of Avery. “Happy holidays!”

  “Oh.” Avery blinks, overwhelmed with the store’s generosity and her own guilt at being annoyed. “Wow! Thank you.”

  When Avery finally gets to the front door of the cute little house that’s fully decked out in Christmas lights, she braces herself for Grace to be upset, and rightfully so. Grace answers the door beaming that bright, wide grin.