It didn’t do much good. By the time it all wrapped up, Jo’s mind was a spiral of indecision. All she wanted to do was find an excuse to head back home, out of the cold and drafty church hall, but the situation had other plans. Beth had brought her new boyfriend to meet the family, and so the necessary introductions had to be made – not that that helped her mood; she might have been happy for her, but there was something faintly grating about seeing her younger sister with her life so together – and it wasn’t until her phone rang in her pocket that she had almost completely managed to lose track of time.
DAVID&MOLLY, the screen read.
Shit.
She checked the clock; she was already half an hour late. He’d probably be already pissed off at her. She winced. Well, there was no point delaying the inevitable. That would only make things worse.
‘Jo, where are you?’ he asked as soon as she accepted the call.
‘Hey,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry I’m late. I was just about to –’
David cut her off. ‘Forget that,’ he said. ‘It’s about Baxter. We’re on our way to the vet in South Riverton. You need to get out here as soon as you can.’
~~~
The harsh neon lights of the South Riverton Veterinary Centre and Animal Rescue caught the delicate snowflakes as they tumbled downwards, painting them an alarming shade of red for just an instant before they settled in flurries on the ground. The parking lot was empty, and there was no trace of human traffic at all; the snow spread out like an immense white sheet. If she hadn’t known better, she would have been sure she had come to the wrong place, but David had been clear: the out-of-hours clinic was the only place he could find to take Baxter in an emergency, and an emergency it surely was.
The inside of the centre had the same fluorescent glare as a hospital – the same clinical, unwelcoming feel of patients held at a distance. It was quiet inside; other than David and Molly, the place was entirely empty.
Just the two of them. No Baxter.
‘What happened?’ she said as soon as she saw them; pleasantries could wait.
David stood up. His face was gaunt with worry, his forehead ridged with concern. ‘I got him here as I could,’ he said. ‘I promise, I didn’t…’
‘David, what happened?’ she asked again. ‘Is Baxter OK?’
‘It was the cake,’ he said. ‘I’m so sorry. I left him with Molly, and they got into the fridge, and…’ David paused. ‘She just didn’t know, that’s all. She thought she was being nice by giving him a piece, but she dropped the plate and by the time she stopped him he’d eaten pretty much the whole damn thing.’
‘All of it?’
He nodded. ‘Everything that was left, but yeah. It was pretty much a whole cake.’
‘Jesus.’ That explained David’s panic, at least. She remembered it, top of the long list of things that you were absolutely, under no circumstances to allow dogs to eat: Mrs. Rodriguez had drilled it into her as she handed over his myriad toys and snacks for the holiday. No chocolate. No how, no way. Absolutely poisonous to dogs.
And how much chocolate would David have used in one of his cakes? She remembered how rich it was, how full of flavour. Half a pound? Maybe more? Would that be enough to cause permanent damage? Would that be enough to kill? Baxter wasn’t tiny, which was probably a good thing… but then again, he wasn’t huge either. How could she be expected to know what a lethal dose might be?
An unexpected fear gripped at her chest: how the hell would she explain this to Mrs. Rodriguez? Losing him was one thing, but poisoning him was quite another. What the hell was I thinking? I’m thirty years old and I can barely look after myself, let alone another living creature. It’s a miracle he lasted as long as he did.
‘As soon as I saw it, I called the vet and they told me to get him out here ASAP. He’s in with them now.’ David paused. ‘I don’t know how long it was, though.’
A small voice spoke up from his side. Molly lifted her face from where it was buried in David’s elbow. ‘Dad?’ Her eyes were wet with tears, and she sniffled loudly as he handed her a tissue.
‘Yeah?’
‘Is Baxter going to get better?’ she asked.
‘I… I don’t know, honey,’ he said. ‘Fingers crossed, OK?’
It might have been honest, but honesty seemed to be the last thing the little girl needed. As she took in her dad’s words, her faced seemed to crumple – the look of someone trying to hold back a full cry and not quite being sure what to do with this strange feeling of sadness building up inside her chest.
Jo dropped down in front of her, her knees pressed against the linoleum floor of the waiting room. She tapped the little girl on the leg until she looked up.
‘Hey,’ she said. ‘It’s OK. Baxter’s going to be fine.’
‘But I made him sick.’
Jo shook her head. ‘No, you didn’t. It was his own fault for being so greedy. I mean, how would you feel if you ate a whole chocolate cake?’
Molly sniffed. ‘Not good.’
‘Exactly. But he’s going to be alright once they give him something to make him vomit, and then–’
‘They’re going to make him puke?’
‘Molly…’ David chided halfheartedly.
‘Sorry. They’re going to make him be sick?’
Jo nodded. ‘Yeah. Get all that nasty goop out of him, and then he’ll be fine.’ I hope so, anyway.
Molly paused for a second, thinking it over. ‘OK,’ she said at last, and then nuzzled herself up in the security of her father, safe in the knowledge that everything would, somehow, work out for the best.
Fingers crossed, OK?
‘Thanks for that,’ David said as Jo took a seat next to him.
‘For what?’
‘Calming her down. She wouldn’t listen to me at all. She was so upset, I don’t know what…’ He paused. ‘You’re really good with kids, you know that?’
‘What, me?’
‘Yeah.’
Jo didn’t know what to say to that. Frankly, she was surprised that Molly had even listened to her, let alone that it had actually helped. She had always assumed that children were strange, alien little beasts – not her sisters, obviously, but sisters were different; sisters didn’t really see you as an adult, as a source of comfort, no matter how much older than them you were – but helping to assuage Molly’s worries gave her a warm feeling inside her chest. No matter how concerned she was about Baxter’s wellbeing, she knew that Molly would be suffering tenfold. It was nice to make a difference, even briefly.
When David reached out and gently grasped her hand, she let him.
Sometimes it was nice to be comforted too.
~~~
‘Mr… Sanders, is it?’
The veterinarian was an older woman, in her fifties, with a face that was all but impossible to read. It must have spent so long cycling between giving good news and bad news that it had settled into a groove in the middle, a neutral default.
David rose to his feet immediately, gently lifting a sleeping Molly off his side. ‘That’s me,’ he said. There was little need for the clarification; the three of them had been the only ones in the waiting room for over an hour, the last of the emergency patients long since having gone home. When Molly had dozed off, David and Jo had sat in silence, mostly. On the surface it was just to avoid waking the sleeping child, but really there just didn’t seem to be all that much to say.
Behind her, on shaky legs but still standing – and with a look on his face that could have curdled milk – was Baxter. He padded along after her, then crossed the waiting room and gently licked the sleeping Molly’s hand.
Oh, thank God.
His natural boisterousness had been all but knocked out of him. The dog that was standing before them now seemed like a shadow of his former self.
‘Is he OK?’ Jo asked, but her voice had a strange echo: David asking the same question just a half-step behind her, his words tinged with a panic she hadn’t previously known h
im capable of. He always seemed so… confident, so in control. He really does care about that dog, she thought. A dog that isn’t even his. And why? Just because Molly is worried?
Or because I’m worried, maybe?
‘He should be fine,’ the vet said. ‘He’s going to have a bit of a dodgy tummy for a little while, so good luck with that, but he’ll be fine in day or two. Just no heavy foods tomorrow, OK?’ The nurse looked up to the clock on the wall; bright white letters shone out 00:04. ‘Well, today, I guess,’ she said. ‘Merry Christmas, folks.’
~~~
‘Everything OK, honey?’ George Marsh laid his hand gently on his daughter’s. ‘You’ve barely touched your food.’
‘Sorry. I’m just not hungry, I guess.’
‘Not hungry? On Christmas?’ George shook his head; she might as well have announced that she secretly had a second head lurking somewhere unseemly.
She reached down and stroked Baxter’s head gently. He hadn’t moved more than about three feet from her since they had arrived back from the vet the night before, but he had lost a lot of his joie de vivre. Perhaps it was just the fact that the vet had given him an emetic strong enough that even his usual voracious appetite had all but disappeared, but somehow she doubted it. There was just something in his look, a literal hangdog expression that she recognised.
Yeah, buddy, she thought. I know the feeling. I miss them too.
By the time the payments had been made and the final paperwork signed, exhaustion had long since set in – and not just for Molly. Their parting had been a lot more strained than she would have liked; David had bundled his daughter into his car and then helped a tender Baxter into the back seat of Jo’s little Ford, but the stress of it all seemed to have taken a toll. They parted with a chaste hug, and drove back to North Riverton separately.
Well, she thought, that’s that, I guess. She couldn’t really blame him. Baxter had upended his life almost as much as he had changed hers. He had said it himself, that first time they properly spoke: he was a busy man. He had his work, a daughter to look after all by himself… and then was Jo on his doorstep: messed-up, broken, divorced Jo, with a scraggly (but increasingly endearing) dog to turn his life upside down for a couple of weeks before she went back to her own mundane life. Surely that was the last thing he needed, especially over the Christmas season.
Except that was never going to be enough. Not for her.
She needed more. Perhaps she wouldn’t have, before Baxter. Perhaps she would have been fine with writing it all off as a might-have-been, never knowing what could have happened. Perhaps the old Jo would even have tried to convince herself that she was better off not knowing… but that had never worked out all that well for her. That had never made her happy. It had never got her what she wanted.
And if you couldn’t get what you wished for on Christmas Day, when could you?
She waited until the last course had been cleared away and her family were half-asleep in a food coma before she pulled on her coat and headed for the door.
~~~
The wind whipped around her as she walked, half the time spurring her on and half the time trying to convince her to turn around. Jo pushed on, her hands bundled into fists inside of her gloves. By the time she arrived at David’s hour, she was chilled to the bone.
He might not even be in, she told herself. I mean, it is Christmas Day, after all. He could be visiting relatives, or out volunteering. He might even just be busy with dinner still. You could be interrupting him. He might even be mad about yesterday. You should probably just –
The door opened. David was standing in front of her, wearing a paper crown and the most hideous jumper she had ever seen in her life: a large, lopsided reindeer that covered almost the entirety of his chest, with knitted brown epaulets that seemed to stand in for antlers. Immediately, despite her worry, she burst out laughing. The look of relief on his face was palpable as he watched her expression shift from concern to joy.
‘Merry Christmas to you too,’ he said.
‘What are you wearing?’
He smiled. ‘I’ll have you know this was a present from my mother,’ he said. ‘And I’m very fond of her. And if you keep on laughing I’ll have no choice but to ask her to knit one for you too.’
She straightened her face, with considerable effort. ‘Sorry,’ she said.
‘What’s up?’ He paused. ‘Come on in. You must be freezing.’ And then, the real question: ‘Is Baxter OK?’
Jo nodded. ‘Yeah, he’s doing fine. I mean, he’s sulking because the house is full of food and he can’t have any, but other than that there’s nothing to worry about.’
‘Good. I’m glad.’ He paused. ‘I’m sorry, you know. About everything.’
‘I know.’
‘And Molly feels terrible too.’
‘She shouldn’t.’
He shrugged. ‘I know. I keep telling her that it was an accident, but she won’t listen. I should have been watching them more closely. It’s my fault.’
‘Well, maybe this will help.’ Jo reached into her bag and pulled out the small wrapped parcel. ‘I got this for her,’ she said.
‘Jo, really. You shouldn’t have.’
‘Maybe. I got it a week ago. It’s just a little thing, that’s all.’
David seemed genuinely touched. ‘Molly?’ he called down the hallway. ‘Come see who’s here, would you?’
A small brunette head poked out of the doorway to the living room. ‘Jo!’ Molly yelled when she saw her. She barrelled down the hallway, still in her pyjamas. ‘Is Baxter here?’
‘Sorry, honey,’ Jo said. ‘He’s still feeling a little bit rough after yesterday. But I did bring you something.’ She held out the gift. Molly looked up at her dad, waiting for permission to take it from her.
‘Go ahead, kiddo,’ he said.
In a second, the wrapping paper was lying in a shredded heap on the floor. Molly took one look at the toy and immediately hugged it to her chest. The stuffed dog she had picked out from the store in town looked as though it was going to pop, she was squeezing it so hard.
‘I remembered what you said about wanting a dog,’ she said, ‘and I figured that even if you couldn’t have a real one, this might do in the meantime.’
The little girl beamed.
‘What do you say, honey?’ David said.
Molly released the dog a little way, still keeping her little hand wrapped around its paw. She ran to Jo and wrapped her arms around her instead, giving her an equally heartfelt hug. ‘Thanks, Jo!’ she said. It was a long way from the suspicion she’d had the first time they met – but then again, wasn’t everything? That day seemed like it was centuries in the past now.
Molly ran off back down the hallway, leaving the two of them alone again.
‘That was nice of you,’ he said. ‘Really nice.’
Jo shrugged. ‘I just thought she’d like it, that’s all. No big deal. I’m sure she would have preferred it if I’d brought Baxter around for a playdate.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘She’s crazy about Baxter.’
‘She’s crazy about both of you.’
‘What?’
David nodded. ‘Oh, sure. She never stops talking about either of you. It’s always Jo-this and Jo-that, and “When’s Jo coming around again?”’ He smiled. ‘You’ve got yourself a bit of a fan club in this house, you know. Molly’s not the only one. I’m glad there are no hard feelings about everything.’
‘What do you mean, about everything?’
‘I was kind of worried that was the last we’d see of you,’ he said. ‘You know… you really haven’t had the best luck with us over the past week or so. What with you hitting your head, and the whole accidentally-poisoning-your-dog thing. It’s not exactly the best first impression.’
‘And let’s not forget you making me eat broccoli that one time.’
He smiled. ‘Oh, of course. Absolutely unforgiveable, that. The rest pales in comparis
on.’
It had been a day, and she already missed his smile. When she had seen the worry on his face after Baxter had fallen ill, she was worried that she might never see it again, that she wouldn’t be able to find another excuse for them to cross paths once she left her parents’ place and went back home.
Do it, she thought. Do it. Ask him. Tell him.
If not now, then when? When she’d gone back home to her empty apartment, wondering what would have happened if she’d just spoken up?
‘I need to talk to you,’ she said. ‘To ask you something, I mean.’
‘Shoot.’
She cast her eyes down the hallway. ‘Maybe outside would be better?’
‘Sounds serious.’ He gestured for her to leave, and then pulled the door gently closed behind them. The cold was thick, oppressive around them. ‘Is everything OK?’
‘Yeah, it’s just…’
‘Look,’ she said. ‘I know you’ve got a lot going on, with Molly and work and everything, but I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you over the last couple of weeks. I was wondering if you want to maybe, sometime, go out to…’
Her words disintegrated at the touch of his lips on her: a soft, sensuous kiss that she could feel had been building up for quite some time.
‘Jeez, I hope that was you asking me out on a date,’ he said. ‘Or I’m going to feel like a real asshole.’
‘I take it that’s a yes, then?’
He leaned in and took her hand in his. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Yes, it’s a yes. I’d love to.’
They stood there together for a moment, just savouring each other’s company. The sky had opened, and chunky flakes of white danced their way downwards. Jo shivered; standing so close, David felt it, and put a warm arm around her waist.
‘It’s getting cold out here,’ he said. ‘Why don’t you come in? Properly, I mean. Join us for a bit?’
She shook her head. ‘I shouldn’t, really. You guys have probably got your own thing going on. I just came by to drop off Molly’s present, and then…’
‘Jo, it’s Christmas,’ he said. ‘There’s always room for one more, and it would mean a lot to Molly.’ He paused. ‘And it would mean even more to me. What do you say?’
Not Just For Christmas: A Holiday Romance (Love at Christmas) Page 5
