Thursday Afternoon

by Beth Rinyu

  Chapter 8

  I was mentally drained by the time I arrived back at my apartment. After showering and scarfing down some leftover Chinese food for dinner, I had some unwanted time to be alone with my thoughts. The grief in Thursday Afternoon’s eyes when he told me about his wife really struck a chord with me. He was far too young to be a widower, and every time I thought of little Jack without a mother, my heart ached some more. I turned on the television and flicked through the channels about a half a dozen times, turning it off when nothing seemed to interest me. Reaching for my phone on the end table, I brought up my contacts, stopping when I got to the letter P and hitting his name before I could chicken out. After the third ring and no answer, I was fairly certain he was screening his calls and wasn’t going to answer—like usual. A sense of excitement overcame me when I heard a rushed “hello” just as I was about to hang up and save myself the disappointment of hearing the familiar voicemail message that always played when I called him.

  “Hey, Paul? How are you?”

  “What’s up, Aubree?” His excitement didn’t match mine in any way.

  “Not much. I haven’t talked to you in a while and just wanted to see how things were going?”

  “Busy with work. I was just on my way into a deposition.”

  I looked down at my watch, thinking it was kind of late for him to still be working, and then quickly remembered the time difference. “Oh, I won’t keep you. I was just calling to see how you were and how—how…Dad was doing.”

  “It’s all good.” He was short and to the point.

  “Trey was telling me you guys are going to Paris in the spring. I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

  The background noises became louder. “Yeah, well listen, I really have to go.”

  “Oh—okay, give my love to Trey and I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Will do.”

  “Love—”

  He hung up before I could even finish telling him I loved him. I threw my head back on the couch, fighting the burn in my eyes. As much as I wanted to believe he was really too busy that he couldn’t even give his sister five minutes of his time, I knew better. He was ashamed of me the same way my father was. Pulling my legs up on the couch, I wrapped my arms around them and buried my face into my knees, letting all of my emotions come to the surface. Like it or not, I was alone. My career choice had alienated me from everyone in my life who mattered to me. My dad was right: I was selfish. And maybe I was even selfish before I decided to sell my soul to the devil. Perhaps what I’d always believed was true, and I was the reason why the one and only boy I’d ever loved was dead. I wanted to jump out of my skin, needing to do something—anything—to keep my thoughts from wandering back to that dark period of my life. I dug through my purse looking for a pen, hoping that a little journaling would be the cure, but instead pulled out the business card from the animal shelter. If I remembered correctly, Hannah had said she volunteered there on Thursday nights, which meant she should be there at the very moment. I threw my hair back in a ponytail and grabbed my coat, hoping that some four-legged furry creatures would break me from my self-pity mode.

  ***

  “Can I help you?” a heavyset woman sitting behind the main desk at the animal shelter asked in a gruff voice.

  “Oh, yes. Is Hann—I mean Sister—?”

  “Bree!” Hannah shouted, coming from the back.

  “That answers your question,” the woman behind the desk replied without ever looking up. “I’m out of here,” she muttered as she began to gather her things.

  “Okay, Shelia, I’ll make sure I lock up,” Hannah remarked in her usual sweet tone.

  “Yup,” she mumbled. My eyes followed her as she walked out the door, astounded by her rudeness.

  “She’s pleasant!” I said once she was out of earshot.

  “She means well. I think she relates better to animals than people.” Hannah defended her, but I could tell even she was having trouble believing her words. “I’m so glad you decided to come and help out.”

  “It beats sitting around feeling sorry for myself.”

  “Oh?” Hannah raised an eyebrow. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, it’s fine.” I brushed it off, not wanting to invite anyone else to my pity party. “So where are all the animals?” I forced a smile.

  “Oh, follow me.” She waved her hand, leading me back through the set of double doors that she had just come from.

  My ears rang at the sound of a few dozen dogs barking in unison as I made my way down a narrow row with concrete kennels on each side of me. I was immediately brought back to my younger days and all of the time spent at the shelter, overcome with the same sadness from way back when at the sight of them pawing at their cages, jumping up and down and causing a commotion. What saddened me even more were the ones who cowered in the corner, afraid to be seen.

  “Wow! So many!” I shouted.

  “Yeah, it’s really sad,” Hannah shouted back.

  I followed behind Hannah, examining them closely as we walked by each kennel, stopping at the sight of a beautiful golden retriever hovering in the corner of her cage, afraid to make eye contact. Hannah turned around and walked back to where I was standing. “That’s Macy. She was dropped off here by a so-called breeder who didn’t have any more use for her.”

  “Why not? She’s beautiful.”

  “She wasn’t able to produce any more pups, so they just dumped her off here.”

  Her sad dark brown eyes penetrated mine when she finally lifted her head. “Why hasn’t anyone adopted her yet?”

  Hannah shrugged. “Why hasn’t anyone adopted any of them yet? There’s just too many. Macy won’t let anyone get near her. She snaps and growls anytime one of us tries.”

  “She’s probably scared and just needs a little work. I’m sure she’s a great dog who needs someone to love her.”

  “Do you want to give her a try?”

  “Sure.”

  “Go slowly, and if—”

  “I’ll be fine.” I cut Hannah off in anticipation.

  She unlocked the kennel and I warily stepped inside, ignoring the faint growls coming from Macy. Hannah kept a close eye as I bent down, getting on Macy’s level.

  “Do you have any treats?” I looked up at Hannah and whispered.

  She reached into her pocket and pulled out some biscuits.

  “Hi, Macy.” My tone was soft and gentle as I inched a little closer and was greeted by more grumbling. “Do you want this?”

  I placed the biscuit just a few inches from her, watching as she hesitantly took a few steps, creeping ever so slightly until she was able to scoop up the treat in her mouth.

  “You want some more?”

  I placed another biscuit down, this time a little closer to me. Her wary demeanor cracked ever so slightly as she took a step closer, a little more eagerly. Once she was finished, I held the last biscuit in the palm of my hand, hoping she would trust me enough to take it from me.

  “Come get this last one, Macy.”

  I stretched out my arm and she took a step closer, sniffing around.

  “Careful,” Hannah whispered as Macy came closer.

  Macy cautiously took the biscuit from my hand and gobbled it down. I kept my arm outstretched, allowing her to pick up my scent. She sniffed around and didn’t react when my hand patted the top of her head and rubbed behind her ears. She moved closer and took a seat, titling her head and closing her eyes while I continued to shower her with affection.

  “Wow!” Hannah’s smile was a mile wide when I looked up at her. “She wouldn’t even let Doctor Springer near her, and he always has a way of getting them to melt.”

  I shrugged, turning my attention back to Macy who was now rolled over on her back for a belly rub. Hannah and I laughed in unison, and my solemn mood from earlier was lifted, thanks to that beautiful dog whose life mirrored mine in a strange way. I rubbed her belly and smiled down at her, wishing it were as easy for me as it was for
her to trust and love again.

  ***

  After finishing up at the shelter, I still wasn’t ready to go home and be alone, so I immediately accepted Hannah’s suggestion that we hit the little café next door for some hot cocoa. “You were like the dog whisperer in there. I can’t believe how much Macy came around.”

  “She’s a really sweet girl. I could tell just by looking in her eyes.”

  “Doctor Springer will be happy. He was thinking that maybe she was going to be unadoptable.”

  “What do they do with those dogs…the ones that aren’t adoptable?”

  She sighed heavily, giving me the answer to that question without even saying a word.

  “So how’s the book coming along?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Good—I got another thousand words written.”

  “That’s great.” I played along, not having a clue as to what a thousand words equated to in a book. “So I was thinking, one of your main characters needs to have a stormy past.”

  “You think?”

  I took a sip of my hot cocoa and nodded. “It makes for a more interesting story. It can’t be just all sex.”

  That familiar shade of red adorned her face, the same way it always did when we got on the topic of anything sexual.

  “For example, maybe your heroine is escaping an abusive husband and her Prince Charming ends up being one of her counselors at the shelter—or maybe the hero has some type of issue he’s dealing with. You know, like maybe his wife passed away and he’s trying to get over her.” God, I need to stop relating everything in her book back to him!

  “Oh...I see what you’re saying.” She pulled a little notebook from her purse and jotted down what I had just told her, focusing her attention back to me when she was done. “So did Macy help to brighten your spirits?”

  I creased my eyebrows in confusion.

  “Earlier you said you were feeling sorry for yourself,” she clarified.

  “Oh, yes. She really did.”

  “Good.” She smiled.

  “Just family drama, or lack of family drama,” I offered.

  “Does your family know about your line of work?”

  I nodded. Normally my family, my job, my feelings—all of it would be off limits. But there was something about Hannah that was comfortable, allowing me to uncork the feelings that I had bottled up for so long and let them flow. “I decided to come clean with them a few years ago, and our relationship hasn’t been the same. My father won’t even speak to me, and my brother does a really good job of ignoring me.” I sighed, blinking away the tears.

  “I’m so sorry, Bree.”

  I always hated when people said they were sorry. To me, it was an insincere way of saying “I don’t know what else to say,” but when Hannah said it, I sensed that she truly did mean it.

  “What about your mother?”

  “I never knew my mom. She died when I was only a few days old.”

  She bit her bottom lip and reached over the table for my hand. “Well, not everyone is going to agree with your choice, but the love of a family should be unconditional, so I can totally understand why you’re so upset with their behavior.”

  “Yeah. I suppose, but it’s not like I’m daughter of the year. My dad has every right in the world to hate me.”

  “Anger and hate are two different things, Bree, and I truly don’t believe he hates you. He’s angry with you because he loves you, and it’s usually the ones we love the most that we become the angriest with when they do something that isn’t to our liking.”

  I was dumbfounded. How did she know all this stuff? She had never been in a relationship and she separated herself from a normal family life to live in the convent, yet she knew exactly what to say and exactly how I was feeling.

  We sat sipping our cocoa in comfortable silence. My thoughts had calmed ever so slightly, seeking refuge in Hannah’s words. Maybe my father really did still love me, even if he wasn’t able to show it, and hopefully one day we’d be able to mend our relationship. My mind was doubtful, my heart clinging to a small thread of hope that maybe one day that would become a reality.

  Chapter 9

  Margo tapped her pen against her temple, rolling her eyes at the person she was talking to on the phone. Her light blond hair, slicked back into a ponytail, was looking even lighter with the late morning sun, peering through her office window. She was the epitome of sophistication. On the verge of sixty, she had more style than women half her age. After catching bits of the conversation, I put the pieces together and realized she was talking to Jess. By the sounds of her somewhat heated words, I was going to be there for a while, so I pulled my phone out and checked my email.

  “Well, Jess, if you think you can do a better job on your own, then far be it from me to stop you.” Margo’s tone was short and to the point. She was a tough-as-nails business woman who you didn’t want to cross, and Jess was crazy for doing so. “Very well.” She hung up the phone, seeming a little rattled but trying not to let it show.

  “Everything okay with Jess?” I asked.

  “She’s a foolish girl if she thinks she can manage her clients on her own. She will fail, and when she does, she’s not coming back here. I’m done with her.”

  “Maybe you should just give her time to come to her senses.”

  “Bree, sweetheart, how long have you known me?” She raised an eyebrow and continued, not giving me a chance to answer. “I don’t give second chances.”

  I sighed heavily, knowing Jess had just committed career suicide. Margo had an inside track to most of the clients. They would without a doubt be more loyal to her than Jess—meaning Jess would need to start all over and find new clients on her own, which wouldn’t be an easy task.

  “So, what’s going on with you?” She switched gears.

  “Not much.”

  “Did Darren speak with you last week?”

  “He did. I don’t know why he found it necessary to break it to me gently. Like I told him, no hard feelings. Business is business.”

  She let out her characteristic boisterous laugh. “Oh, darling, I taught you well.”

  I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

  A quick smile spread across my face when I peered at my watch—almost my favorite time of the week. “I really need to get going. I have to meet a client.” I stood up.

  “Oh yes, Mr. Grace.” Margo raised an eyebrow. “How are things going with him?”

  “Fine. We’ve only met two times so far, but it seems to be going good.”

  She nodded. “Handsome, isn’t he?”

  “Umm…yeah, I guess, but so are most of my clients.” I played it off, but I could tell she was seeing right through my phony persona. She knew me too well.

  “Good. Keep that attitude. I don’t need you falling in love on me.”

  I shook my head and laughed it off. “I’ll see you later, Margo.” I turned around to make my exit.

  “And, Bree,” Margo called just as I reached the door. “I’m going to need you to take on a few more clients, now that Darren is off your schedule and Jess is no longer with us, but we’ll discuss this later.”

  I hesitated for a moment. I knew it was a test to see how far my loyalty lay. “Yeah, okay,” I muttered, walking out of her office and onto the street. I was so angry at myself. Why didn’t I put my foot down and tell her no—I didn’t want any more clients. Margo loved to play her games, even with me. It didn’t matter that she and I had a relationship that went beyond her business. She didn’t make exceptions when it came to working. I had known that going in, but lately her little power struggle wasn’t sitting well with me. I didn’t like being manipulated into doing something I didn’t want, but if I wanted to continue to pay my rent and eat, I had no other choice but to bow down to her requests. I’d delay it for as long as I could, but sooner or later Margo always got her way.

  I tried calling Jess on my way to the hotel and got her voicemail. Opting to not leave a mess
age, I decided I’d try her back later and lecture her on her decision. My attention was buried in my phone, checking my emails when I stepped out of the cab, causing me to literally walk into Thursday Afternoon.

  “Oh god, I’m so sorry.” My stomach flipped ever so slightly as I looked up into those expressive green eyes.

  He laughed it off, staring at me a little while longer.

  “So, did you want me to go in first?” I asked, pulling it together.

  “Uh...no.”

  “Oh, okay. So, did you want to go—”

  He shook his head, leaving me totally baffled. “Let’s go get lunch.”

  “Oh, umm.”

  “Assuming you’re hungry, that is,” he continued.

  “Yeah, sure. That’s fine.”

  He flagged down a cab and opened the door, allowing me to get in first. “Sixty-Seventh Street and Central Park West,” he said to the driver when he hopped in.

  “Tavern On The Green?” I raised an eyebrow.

  “Are you okay with that?” he asked.

  “Perfectly okay.”

  His gaze penetrated through me. Every time he looked at me, it was as if he was searching for someone else in my eyes. I averted my gaze and stared out the window. Oddly enough, the silence that loomed between us wasn’t awkward; in fact it was welcoming. I’d always hated the need for small talk just to have something to say.

  The cab pulled up to the restaurant and we both got out and walked inside. I smiled when he confirmed his reservation with the maître d’.

  “You were awful sure of yourself that I’d agree to lunch, weren’t you?” I teased as we were shown to our table.

  “I took a chance,” he replied.

  After a few drinks, we were both loosening up a bit.

  “Can I ask you a question?” he inquired.

  “Depends on what it is.”

  “Which kid is yours?”

  I nearly choked on the sip of wine I had just taken. “Excuse me?” I expelled a nervous laugh.

  “At Sunday school.”

  “Oh…that!” I grinned. “None of them.”