Serendipity

by Fern Michaels

  The dogs stirred at the same time the doorbell rang. Ross struggled to his feet, his heart pounding, certain when he opened the door he would see his father standing there with a sorrowful look on his face. He yanked at the door, his lips pulled back into a snarl.

  “Mr. Ryan?”

  “No.”

  “Oh. Is Mrs. Ryan here? I wanted to ask her if she wants me to plow out the driveway again. There’s a big car out there that’s pretty much snowed in. Driveway, carriage house, and digging out the car is twenty bucks.”

  “Did you say again?”

  “Yeah. I did it the day before yesterday. I do just about everybody around here. The road’s been plowed, so if you need to get into town, you’ll make it. They’ve been sanding the roads all night.”

  “Sure.” Ross handed the young man twenty dollars, and as he closed the door said to himself, “I knew she didn’t do it, but she sounded so damn believable.”

  Inside, he reached for a thick stack of papers and carried them to the far corner of the room, where it was still warm, spreading them in a wide circle. The dogs scampered over to their haven, dancing around the edge of the papers.

  “In the middle, in the middle,” Ross said sternly. They ignored him, squatted, and ran back to the fire, where they curled up in the nest of blankets. They were asleep when he made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth with Jory’s toothbrush. When he was finished, he threw the brush in the wastebasket. He made a mental note to buy her a new one.

  Back in the living room, he finished the lukewarm coffee that was left in the thermos. The caffeine gave him the surge he needed to pull on his boots and wool cap.

  The dogs continued to sleep. He poured the rest of the chicken soup into the saucer, wondering which dog would put his feet in the dish. He told himself they would be fine if he added two more logs to the fire, secured the fire screen, and extinguished the smoking candles. His chores completed, he pulled on his father’s jacket and closed the door quietly so the dogs wouldn’t wake. He could make it to town, check in with his father, go to the hospital, and be back here by early afternoon.

  Jasper opened the kitchen door for his son. The relief on his father’s face stunned Ross. He clapped Jasper on the back. “Hot coffee and some eggs would taste good right now. Any news?”

  “I called Lyle early, around seven. He was making rounds and called me back at seven-thirty. We can see Jory and Woo anytime you’re ready. I sent Henry over to your house for clothes and toilet articles. Everything is in the bedroom next to mine. Your breakfast will be ready by the time you get down here. How’d everything go?”

  “The house was so cold you could see your breath steam. The dogs were almost frozen. As the saying goes, I got there in the nick of time. I’m going back as soon as I see Jory and Woo. I’m going to need more food and a way to heat it in the fireplace if the power doesn’t come back on. Figure out something, Dad.”

  “Rossssa!”

  It was twelve o’clock when Ross was escorted to Jory’s room by a nurse in a uniform so stiff it crackled. Her white, serviceable oxfords made hard squashing sounds on the floor. Outside the door she whispered, “Five minutes, not one second longer. Miss Ryan is very groggy and still in a lot of pain. Do not, I repeat, do not say anything that will upset her.” Ross nodded as she looked pointedly at the watch on her wrist. He knew she would time him to the second. The white uniform crackled angrily as she squashed back down the hall to the duty station.

  Ross didn’t know what he expected, but the sight of Jory helpless in the sterile hospital bed wasn’t it. He swallowed hard, his tongue thick in his mouth. “Jory, are you awake? It’s Ross. Jesus, Jory, I’m so sorry. The nurse said I could only stay five minutes. She means it too.”

  “Ross, what happened to me? All I remember is the bright lights,” Jory said softly. “What time is it? The doctor was in here, but he wouldn’t tell me anything. The nurse is worse. What time is it, Ross? They won’t give me anything to drink.”

  “Shhh, it’s okay. You have a concussion, some broken ribs, some fractured ones. I think they fixed your hip and spleen in surgery. I’m not next of kin anymore so they wouldn’t tell me anything,” he lied. “The doctors said you would be okay, it will just take time.”

  “How much time, Ross? Please, don’t lie to me,” she whispered.

  “Probably a very long time, a month, maybe two. That’s just a guess on my part. Don’t worry about anything, just get well.”

  Jory cried. “What about my dogs, Ross?” Jory said, alarmed. “They only know me and Woo, and Woo works all day. I didn’t think there was this much pain in the world.” Tears trickled down her cheeks. Ross wanted to wipe away the tears, to hug her, to tell her he’d make everything right.

  “I went to your house last night and took care of the dogs. I’m going back after I stop and see . . . later. The power is off and the phone is still out. I don’t want to leave the dogs too long. We got along real well. I know how to put down papers. They ate a lot. They like sleeping by the fire. I’ll stay there, if you don’t mind, and come in once a day to see you and give you a progress report. Now, what about your job?”

  After they talked, Jory quickly fell asleep, her face ashen.

  “Mister Landers, your time is up,” the nurse hissed from the doorway. “Did I just hear you cough?” Ross shook his head, his eyes cloudy with unshed tears.

  The nurse on Woo’s floor was friendlier. “He’s in pain,” she told Ross, “but holding his own. He’s groggy. Try not to let him talk.”

  Ross pushed the door open and immediately reached for the jamb to support himself. He could barely see Woo for all the wires, tubes, pulleys, and monitors attached to the big man. His eyes filled. He swiped at them with the back of his hand. Woo’s eyes were closed. “Woo, it’s Ross. Can you hear me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Listen, you’re going to be fine. It’s going to take time, but the end result is what counts. I’m only allowed five minutes, so I have to talk fast. I’m going to have my father call the police commissioner and the mayor to make sure the D.A. lets me take over your caseload. This way you stay on the payroll. I’ll try your murder case after New Year’s. By the time I win that one for you, you’ll be able to go on disability.

  “Jory is okay, Woo, but it’s going to take her a long time to recover. I don’t know how long either one of you will be in here, so I’ve decided to . . . take over for you both. I’ll do my best. I think I can count on my father to help out. The dogs kind of like me. They probably like anyone who feeds them and cleans up their messes. They take a lot of work.

  “I need to know something, Woo. Why’d you do it?”

  Woo worked his tongue around the thickness in his mouth. “You’re my friend,” he whispered.

  “You dumb son of a bitch. Look what you got for your efforts. I’m walking around and you’re . . . you’re here,” Ross growled, tears gathering on his lashes.

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” the big man whispered. “Ross, remember your promise, don’t scare my parents.”

  “I’ve never broken a promise in my life. I think you’re wrong, but then you always were bullheaded. I wish there was something I could do for you. I’d cut off my arm, you know that. When you’re feeling better, I’ll think of something.”

  Woo reached for Ross’s hand. “Just say a prayer I don’t end up in a wheelchair. I don’t think I could . . . besides, they don’t make them for big people like me.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Sure.” Pray? He didn’t know how. He couldn’t ever remember praying. Praying meant you came out in the open where God could look at you and hear you. It meant calling attention to yourself. He’d had no religious upbringing. No one ever told him to say prayers at night, and he never went to church. You had to know a particular prayer to pray, didn’t you? Once when he was at summer camp his bunkmate, a skinny little kid two years younger than himself, always kneeled down by his bed and said a prayer that started out, “Now I lay m
e down to sleep . . .” At the time, he remembered thinking the kid was saying the prayer to protect himself while he slept from the bigger kids who loved to torment the younger ones.

  “Your five minutes are up, Ross,” said a voice from the doorway.

  “Yeah, I guess they are. I’ll be back tomorrow.” He wanted to lean over and kiss the big guy, to hug him, to tell him what his friendship meant to him, but there were too many things in the way. He had to say something meaningful, something he felt, something from his heart. He felt his lip start to quiver. Another minute and he’d be yowling like a baby. “Woo, that God you pray to, I . . . do you think he pays attention to us Protestants?”

  “Probably, though Protestants are second-class religious citizens. . . . That’s a joke, Ross. Of course he does.”

  Jasper was sitting in the waiting room when Ross was through talking with Woo. He was reading a tattered magazine, a paper cup of coffee in one hand. Jasper set both aside when he saw his son. “How is he?”

  “He’s . . . worried about ending up in a wheelchair. He still doesn’t want me to tell his parents. Another thing, he wants me to pray for him. So he won’t end up in a wheelchair. Stupid, right? Like God is going to listen to me. I don’t even know any goddamn prayers. You never took me to church. Do you know any prayers?”

  “A few,” Jasper said quietly. “I’ve been thinking, Ross . . . I’m going back to Chestnut Hill with you. I don’t know what good I’m going to be, but I’m certainly willing to do whatever is necessary to get you three young people over this crisis. Can I do that for you?”

  Ross was touched, and didn’t trust himself to speak. He merely nodded.

  “Come along then, son,” Jasper said, getting to his feet, “we have our work cut out for us. By the way, I called the power company and the phone company. Both utilities are on as of an hour ago.”

  Ross blew his nose, a gusty sound in the quiet waiting room. “I’m ready,” he said, standing up and squaring his shoulders, his head inching higher. I’m going to give it my best and if that isn’t good enough, I’ll try harder, he thought as he walked outside with his father.

  It was mid-afternoon when Ross opened the door to Jory’s house again. He whistled. Four streaks of fur circled his feet. He watched, a smile on his face, when the four dogs sniffed his father’s feet, growling fiercely. “Scratch them behind the ears,” Ross said. “They love that. I’ll carry in our stuff. Could you go around and collect all the poop papers and put down clean ones? Check their water bowls. They stick their feet in them. Look at that tree, Dad! I helped to decorate it,” Ross said proudly.

  “It’s magnificent,” Jasper said sincerely. “Christmas must be very special to Jory.”

  “Yes. She might be able to come home by Christmas, maybe New Year’s. Woo’s mother says you have to keep water in the stand. And we have to keep the fire burning all the time. This house is drafty as hell, and the dogs are low to the ground. There’s a lot of wood in the garage. We have to carry it to the porch, okay?”

  “Okay,” Jasper said, nodding.

  “I’ll cook breakfast, because that’s the only thing I know how to cook. Dinner is your responsibility. I’m not fussy. If you are, you’re going to have to change your eating habits. You can always call Rosa for hints. Tomorrow I want to call around to get some estimates for replacing the windows in this house. I’ll call someone to look at the roof too, and I’ll get an estimate on the roof for the Landers Building. It’s leaking on the south side. Jory was going to do it, but . . . it has to be done soon. Jory will have a fit over this because she can’t afford it, so I’ll need to strike a hard bargain. She can pay me back in installments.”

  “Ross, you’re interfering in her life,” Jasper said. “I’m not sure you have a right to do that. You aren’t married now. Even when you were, I don’t think you would have had a right. I’m not opposed to doing any of this. I just don’t want Jory to be angry with you.”

  “I’m prepared for her to snarl and sputter, but if it’s done, what can she do? She didn’t like that business with you giving her the Landers Building, but she’s living with it, Dad, if not profiting from it.” Abruptly, Ross, observing the dogs, changed the subject: “Aren’t they something?”

  “They certainly are,” Jasper replied as one of them peed on a piece of soggy paper. “Where do all these . . . papers with their . . . poop go?”

  Ross laughed. “There’s a barrel on the back porch. I don’t know when the garbage is picked up. We’ll have to call and find out. I have to tell you, it stinks.”

  Jasper chuckled. “Duly noted.” Damn, he was enjoying himself. Ross was counting on him. This was his second chance, he couldn’t afford to foul things up. God, he liked this young man. No, he loved this young man who was his son. “What now, Ross?”

  “Now we settle in. There are four bedrooms. Jory’s room is the first one on the right. Take any of the other three. There’s only one bathroom upstairs, but there’s a second one off the kitchen. I’ll replenish the fire and bring in more wood. After that it’s your job. If you don’t let it go out, you won’t have a problem. Put the food away, and I’ll make us some coffee. We need to talk about something else that’s a little more . . . involved, and I think we should be sitting down when we discuss it. I think it might be a good idea to start with the papers,” Ross said, wrinkling his nose.

  Jasper bent to his task, the dogs trotting alongside him as he crunched their papers into tight balls. He felt the cross drafts immediately. He wasn’t sure, but he thought the dogs were shivering. The papers deposited according to Ross’s instruction, Jasper headed for the bathroom and the linen closet. He returned to the living room and stuffed hand towels and washcloths around the base of the window and a large dark brown towel at the bottom of the door. He dropped to his knees and he smiled with satisfaction. He’d eliminated the draft. He did the same in the dining room and kitchen.

  Ross was poking at the fire, the logs burning brightly.

  “A wood fire is a bit different from a gas one,” Jasper said.

  “Quite a bit different. You have to work at it. The flames are kind of mesmerizing, don’t you think?”

  Jasper thought of all the lonely evenings he’d spent over the years in front of his gas fireplace watching the flames. “More than you know, Ross,” he said sadly.

  At six o’clock Ross pronounced their situation under control. Rosa’s contribution of roast chicken, scalloped potatoes, and a bean and onion casserole was warming in the oven. The dogs were fed, papered, and snoozing. The fire burned bright and steady. A pile of logs rested on the hearth. Jasper had turned the couch so they could look at the tree and the fire. Both men were silent as they sipped their coffee.

  “It’s kind of nice, isn’t it?” Ross said.

  “Very nice,” Jasper conceded.

  “Why wasn’t it ever like this at home?” Ross asked.

  “I don’t know, Ross. It would be easy for me to blame your mother for everything, but I didn’t want to be bothered either. For a long time now I’ve regretted those early years. Tell me, what is it you wanted to talk about that’s involved and required us to sit down? You’re feeling better, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I guess I am,” Ross replied with surprise. “With everything that’s gone on, I didn’t have time to think about myself. I took the pills and kept moving, hoping for the best. More coffee?”

  “To the top. This is good coffee, Ross.”

  Their cups refilled, Ross reached behind the couch to pull the sack of mail onto his lap. He looked at his father for several seconds before he undid the drawstring.

  “In here, Dad, is Jory’s job. She writes a column for the Democrat. She’s Auntie Ann. You get the Democrat, you must have seen it. She can’t afford to lose the job. I’m going to take over Woo’s caseload at the D.A.’s office providing you can pull some strings to get me reinstated. Woo will still get his salary for now, something he needs as desperately as Jory needs her job. I can’t tr
y two criminal cases that Woo has prepared and write Jory’s column too, so you’re going to have to do it.”

  “Me?” Jasper gasped. “Ross, I can’t type. I don’t know the first thing about . . . good Lord, I could get her fired. Ross, you’re asking the impossible!”

  “I know, but there’s no one else I’d trust to do it. Auntie Ann’s identity is supposed to be a secret. Even Woo doesn’t know. I found out by accident and gave Jory my word I wouldn’t tell anyone. In this instance I think she’ll forgive me. Will you at least try? I can type, the hunt-peck method. You can write the column in longhand, and if I have time I can type it up for you at night. I know it’s a lot to ask of you.”

  “All right, Ross, I’ll do my best.”

  “You have to read all these letters and pick out the ones you want to answer. Jory keeps a file in her father’s office. You’ll probably have to go through it and read the older columns to see how she does it. You know, get a feel for it. She has a style of her own, so you’ll have to follow it. I think you should know, one of the reporters at TIF mentioned Auntie Ann to Mother and her nose started to twitch. I didn’t know at the time Jory was the columnist. No one outside the paper knows.”

  “I’m forewarned. Ross, there are hundreds of letters here.” Jasper groaned. “Do I have a schedule?”

  “I’ll have to find out. Dad, I know nothing about this. I told you, I found out by accident. Let’s get our dinner ready, and after the dishes, you can start to work.”

  “Did you say dishes?”

  Ross grinned. “Someone has to do them.”

  “Can’t we get a temporary domestic?” Jasper pleaded.