Was it because she really wasn’t interested in pursuing relationships or was it because she was afraid? She’d had friendships with guys when she was younger, and look what it had gotten her. When she got this far along in her thoughts, she backtracked, and convinced herself she was content being by herself. Why did she need to fight off guys on the prowl and listen to her female friends plot and seek ways to snatch a guy from some unsuspecting friend only to lose both in the end? She liked her life just the way it was, thank you very much.
She looked down at her watch. If she wanted to, she could go to the SPCA and rescue a dog. She tried to talk herself out of doing it, unsure if her timing was right or wrong. What if the dog got sick in the car? What if the motels she stopped in wouldn’t allow a dog? What if…a lot of things. An animal lover friend of hers had once lectured about how many dogs and cats were destroyed every year because their owners had either lost them or just didn’t want them anymore.
She had never been one to spout ideals or get involved with causes. She had more or less skated through life after the accident, keeping to herself and doing her own thing. But the idea of saving a dog was suddenly very appealing.
Cadwell Sophia Jordan, named after her maternal and fraternal grandmothers, never made a decision until she talked it to death, made a blueprint, then ran it up an invisible flagpole to see if it was a decision worth saluting. It was always better to err on the side of caution. Predictability was her philosophy. It all came down to that one word again, fear.
Cadwell Sophia Jordan, a.k.a. Cady Jordan, ignored her own credo for the first time in her life and climbed into her four-by-four. Her destination, the SPCA.
Thirty-five minutes later she was staring into the dark eyes of a mangy, filthy, scrawny German shepherd named Atlas. “I’ll take him.”
“Good choice. He’s about three years old. He was picked up on the street. He was wearing a collar that was little more than a string, and his name tag was matted into his coat. That’s how we know his name is Atlas. He’s a good dog,” the young boy said. “Once he’s cleaned up and a vet checks him over, I’d say you got yourself a great dog. Give him a good life, and he’ll love you forever. That’s fifteen dollars for the leash and five dollars for the dog.”
Cady handed over a twenty-dollar bill. The dog cowered when she reached out to him. She dropped to her knees and whispered softly. “I know how you feel. If you trust me, we’ll be okay. I’m just going to put this leash on you, and we’re going to a vet I know. It’s okay, Atlas. I’ll never hurt you.”
“He has some scars on his back, miss. My thinking would be, somebody mistreated him along the way. Good food, some vitamins, and a lot of love will make him right as rain.”
“Okay.” Physical abuse, mental abuse, what was the difference? she thought. Abuse was abuse.
“I’m sorry he doesn’t have any gear. I can’t even give you any food. We’re short on rations here. I guess you know we depend on donations.” His voice sounded as hopeful as he looked.
“I see. I guess I’m not thinking clearly. I’d like to make a donation. How does two hundred dollars sound?”
“Two hundred dollars sounds great. We can buy a lot of dog food and a lot of Clorox with that much money.”
Cady wrote out the check and handed it over. She felt better than she’d felt in a long time. “Okay, Atlas, it’s time to start your new life. Maybe we can do it together. We’re going to Indigo Valley by way of Burger King, the vet, and a pet store.”
Atlas settled his bony frame in the passenger side of Cady’s Mercury Mountaineer. He looked tired and wary as he dropped his head onto his paws. He didn’t perk up until she swerved the four-by-four into the drive-through lane at Burger King. The smell of grilling hamburgers permeated the air. She ordered five double cheeseburgers, a large Coke, a bottle of water, and an empty cup.
“Okay, I’m going to pull into one of these parking spaces, and we’ll eat here.” For some reason she expected the dog to wolf down the food, but he didn’t. He ate slowly and methodically. He drank almost the entire bottle of water, then he whimpered. “I get it. I get it. You gotta go. Listen, Atlas, I’ve never had a dog before, so you’re going to have to help me here. You know, bark, whine, whatever. I know you’re going to have accidents, but we’ll work on that. Careful, careful, it’s a drop to the ground. Do your thing,” she said, letting go of the retractable leash to give him room to roam, which he did. When he was finished he walked to the door of the truck and waited until Cady opened it. He hopped in, settled down, and went to sleep.
Two hours later a disgruntled Atlas climbed back into the truck. This time he was exhausted from being bathed and groomed and his trip to the pet store, where Cady bought everything the salesgirl said she would need. She even bought a seat belt harness that Atlas did not like at all. He settled down when she scratched his belly and spoke soothingly to him. At one point, he licked her hand in appreciation. Tears blurred her vision as she slipped the Mountaineer into gear.
Getting Atlas was the first unorthodox, serendipitous thing she’d done since she was a little kid back in Indigo Valley. She decided she liked what she was feeling. Maybe it was time for her to do more unorthodox, serendipitous things.
“I think we can drive for about five hours, then we’ll stop. I’ll turn on the radio for company since you’re going to sleep.” The dog opened one sleepy eye, then closed it, knowing he was in safe hands.
Six days later, Cady stopped the car along the side of the road and pulled out her map. She should know the area. After all, she had lived there for ten years when she was growing up, but it all looked so different, with little clusters of housing developments, fast-food outlets, and new roads. She’d looked for familiar landmarks on the drive in, but the only thing she’d recognized was the town square and St. Paul’s Church. She looked up from the map to see Atlas slapping at the car window with his paws. “Twenty years ago this was my hometown. I don’t know if I love this place or hate it. I should be feeling something, but I’m not,” she muttered to herself.
Where was her grandmother’s house? Her mother had told her it was the only house on a street called Indigo Place. A street that her grandmother had named when she had had her house built. She wondered how that could be. She saw it then, a curlicue of a street that appeared to be tucked behind what looked like some high-end real estate. The sign said it was a gated community. She slipped the Mountaineer into gear and drove slowly, paying careful attention to the street signs.
Cady sucked in her breath. It wasn’t a house. It was probably called an estate. Or, maybe, a creation would be a better word. Whatever it was, it was certainly befitting of Lola Jor Dan.
“This is it, Atlas. Our new home. I told you all about Lola on the long drive here. She used to be a famous movie star. She was wild and wicked during her heyday. They called her a sex symbol even back then. She had six husbands and buried them all. My father was so ashamed of her, he would never tell anyone she was his mother. Mom pretended she didn’t exist, but that was because of my dad. I think she secretly admired Lola. Dad said she was a disgrace to the name Jordan, and that’s why she changed it to Jor Dan. I loved her. Still do.” Atlas barked to show he understood.
Cady reached across the console to tickle the shepherd behind the ears. She’d only had the big dog a little more than six days, but they had bonded that first night when they’d slept together in the cargo hold. He’d put on a few pounds, and his eyes were now bright and alert. She loved him as much as he loved her.
She stopped the car in front of a pair of huge, green, wrought-iron gates. “I guess we’re supposed to press this buzzer, and maybe someone will open those huge gates. Boy, if this place is as big as it looks, you are going to have some playground to romp around in.”
“Yes?” a woman’s hollow voice sounded through a grille in the stone wall next to the gate.
“I’m Cady Jordan. I’m here to see my grandmother.”
Inside the house, Mand
y Ebersole, retired stunt-woman and lifelong companion to Lola Jor Dan, looked at Anthony Borellie, another lifelong friend of Lola’s, and grinned. “She’s here! That should perk Herself up a bit, don’t you think?”
The retired film director grinned and nodded. “Some young blood around here is just what we need. Let’s see what she’s made of.”
“Do you have an appointment?” the faceless voice asked.
“No. Do I need one?”
“Yes, you need an appointment. Miss Jor Dan does not receive callers. She’s retired and likes her privacy.” Cady thought she could hear the woman sniff.
“She’ll see me. Tell her if you don’t open these gates, I’ll plow them down. Now, hop to it. My dog is getting antsy,” Cady said with more bravado than she felt. It was the second most unorthodox, serendipitous thing she’d ever done.
“Dog?” Inside the house the two conspirators looked at one another. “She’s got some spit to her. Lola’s going to love this. She is, isn’t she, Anthony?” The director nodded uneasily.
“D-o-g! Dog. It rhymes with log or bog or hog. Take your pick. Please tell my grandmother I’m here. I’ll give you five minutes, or these gates are going to go down.”
Atlas woofed his agreement. “I sounded tough, didn’t I? I didn’t mean it, though,” Cady whispered. Atlas woofed again just as the gates swung open.
Cady drove a mile up a long winding road that was lined with poplar trees. The grounds were lush and well tended with what looked like acres of flowers and carefully pruned topiary. Her jaw dropped. Outside of a movie set, she’d never seen anything so beautiful. Off to her right she could see a tennis court and a grottolike swimming pool. Did her eighty-two-year-old grandmother play tennis and swim? Maybe in her younger years. So, who availed themselves of these sumptuous surroundings? Why did her grandmother need a six-car garage? Who lived in the two Hansel-and-Gretel-looking cottages in the back? So many questions.
The car came to a grinding halt in front of the house. She craned her neck to stare at the imposing white columns and was reminded of pictures of Tara. Lola had a soft spot in her heart for anything concerning Gone With the Wind. She remembered her grandmother telling her how she’d missed out on playing Scarlett because her studio wouldn’t let her out of her contract. Lola had a story for everything.
Cady’s heartbeat quickened as she got out of the car. Surely her mother had notified Lola that she was on her way. On the other hand, Agnes Jordan might have felt it was her husband’s place to tell his mother she was on her way. If it had been left up to Asa Jordan, then this visit was going to come as a total surprise to her grandmother.
Lola did love surprises. Cady hoped she was going to like this one. She’d played with the idea of calling her grandmother and always ended up saying, no, she’ll try to talk me out of making the trip. Cady figured that if she sold her house, packed her stuff, and just came, Lola would have to let her stay and take care of her. If there was one thing she knew about her grandmother, it was that she liked being independent. Thus, the element of surprise. Lola would never turn her away. Never.
She wished she knew more about her grandmother’s health. All she had to go on was her mother’s phone call. That in itself was reason enough for alarm because her mother never called her. When she’d asked what was wrong with Lola, her mother had said, she’s old, things go wrong when you get old. Her voice had been so controlled, so onimous-sounding, Cady had felt fear race up her arms. She knew in that one split second that she had to go to her grandmother. If it turned out to be a hangnail, so be it.
Cady opened the door for Atlas. She attached the leash to his collar and walked up the four steps that led to the wide verandah. The huge double doors opened just as she reached the fourth step. She stopped and pulled Atlas to her side. “I’m Cady Jordan, Lola’s granddaughter.”
“Yes, you did say that back at the gate. Come in. You should have called ahead, Cady. Miss Lola doesn’t like surprises.”
“I thought my mother or father called. I guess they forgot,” Cady said lamely. “Is my grandmother all right?”
“Now that depends on what you mean by all right. Well, don’t stand there, come into the house. That’s a sorry-looking excuse for a dog. Don’t let him mess in the house.”
“Just a minute, whoever you are. You can say what you want about me, but leave my dog out of it. He was beaten and starved before I got him. He’s doing fine now, thanks to me. My grandmother likes dogs. Who are you?”
“I’m Mandy. I’m the housekeeper, the companion, and the secretary, plus a lot of other things. You’re just a visitor, so you shouldn’t be asking questions. Do you have a problem with all of this?” A round butterball of a man stood behind the housekeeper, his eyes sparkling as he listened to the verbal exchange.
The housekeeper had to be as old or almost as old as her grandmother. She had a mouth on her just like her grandmother’s. “I remember now. You were Lola’s double. She used to tell me about you. She said you were the greatest stuntwoman to come out of Hollywood, and she would never have been the actress she was without your help.” Cady’s hand shot out. “I’m very pleased to see you again. And you must be Anthony, Lola’s director. She said no one but you were fit to direct her. It’s a pleasure meeting you, too.” Not to be outdone, Atlas barked and held up his paw.
“Herself said that now, did she?” The woman and man seemed evidently pleased with Cady’s compliment. Mandy seemed to be debating something with herself before she finally spoke. “You haven’t seen Lola in over a year. She’s not doing all that well. She lies and says she’s fit as a fiddle. She can walk, but mostly she stays in her wheelchair. Part of it is pure stubbornness and to some extent laziness. She has osteoporosis. I saw her X rays. And she has a heart condition. Neither is life-threatening at this time. She claims to be ready to die, but that’s a lie, too. What’s the dog’s name?”
“Atlas. They have medicine for osteoporosis. The wife of one of my professors had it, and I remember him mentioning it to me.”
“You’ll have to talk to Herself about that. She’s in the sunroom. I told her you were here, and she’s excited. I haven’t seen her this excited since we moved here ten years ago. Please try to be cheerful, and don’t be shocked by her appearance.”
A feeling of dread settled over Cady as she led Atlas forward.
She knew the sunroom was beautiful because Lola liked beautiful things. Later, when she wasn’t in such shock, she would peruse the entire house. Right now, all she could see was her once-beautiful grandmother huddled in her wheelchair, an outlandish Dolly Parton wig on her small head. She was made-up, but then she was always made-up, and often boasted that none of her six husbands had ever seen her without her makeup. Now, though, the expensive, theatrical makeup only made her look more gaunt and haggard. Her green eyes were bright and alert when she smiled at her granddaughter. “What a lovely surprise! How are you, precious? If you had called to tell me you were coming, I would have rolled out the red carpet for you. It’s wonderful to see you, Cady.”
“I’m fine, Lola,” Cady said, hugging her grandmother. “Are you saying you didn’t know I was coming? Mom told me someone from the hospital called her and said you needed your family. Dad’s not well, and Mom has her hands full with him. I decided to come instead. I up and sold my house, got myself this dog, then drove cross-country. I still can’t believe I did that. But I’m here, and that’s all that matters.”
“What you’re saying is Asa couldn’t be bothered to come or even call me, is that it?”
Cady shrugged. The bad blood between her father and her grandmother was legendary.
“I cut him out of my will. He doesn’t deserve to have me as a mother. That poor excuse of a mother of yours isn’t much better. I still can’t figure out how you turned out so well. If you discount that little episode when you were a child. I’m delighted that you’re here, child. I truly am, but to answer your question, no, I did not know you were coming. Hospitals call
family because they feel…well, whatever it is they feel. I told them not to call, but obviously they didn’t listen to me.”
“I can get an apartment in town. I have Atlas now.”
“Nonsense. This house has seventeen rooms, and the two cottages in the rear have five rooms each. We have plenty of room. If I seem less than enthusiastic, it’s because I’m shocked to see you. I missed my trips to Los Angeles last year because I opted to go to Europe to see if they could help me. Aside from an entire bone transplant, there was nothing they could do for me.”
“I should have come here. I didn’t know there was anything wrong, Lola. I thought you were just too busy to visit. Why didn’t you say something? I would have come sooner.”
“You’re a young woman, Cady. You don’t need to be saddled with an old woman. I don’t want to be a burden on anyone. You have your own life to live. You are living it, aren’t you? Oh, don’t tell me you’re still hibernating and living in that little community because it’s safe and oh-so-boring. Is there a young man in your life?”
“Absolutely.” Cady grinned as she pointed to Atlas.
“So you aren’t over it. Cady, Cady, when are you going to start to live? Ever since that accident, you haven’t been the same. I think you might have had a chance if your parents had allowed me to keep you. But no, they came and got you and took you to all those different towns—in how many different states?—before they settled in that backwoods place in Vermont. I was good enough for them for the three years it took for your rehabilitation, but after that, I was just a glitzy movie star who’d had one face-lift too many and shamed them. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t begrudge one minute of those three years. I thought I was going to die when they took you away. You cried so hard my heart broke.”
“Let’s not talk about Mom and Dad or…that time. Let’s talk about you. I want to know how this all happened, and I want to know what I can do for you.”
Lola grimaced. “Years of decadent living, I guess. The condition is irreversible, so let’s not waste our time talking about it. I had a great life, and if I had it to do all over again, I’d do it all the same way. I lived every single minute of my life. As to what you can do, well, you can help me with my memoirs. Mandy said she has many capabilities, but writing isn’t one of them. I had previously thought about talking into a recorder and sending you the tapes. That was on my good days. On my bad days I decided no one would be interested enough in an old film star to buy the book. I’ve outlived all the people I would include in the book, so there isn’t anyone left to sue me if I go ahead and decide to write it. What do you think, Cady?”
No Place Like Home (Holiday Classics) Page 13
