Gingerly, she curled her fingers under the front of the lid and lifted up. A thick layer of dust puffed up and into Brydie’s face, causing her to cough and sneeze, but the lid didn’t budge. She gave it another, more forceful tug.
Still nothing.
Brydie stood back and blew a stray piece of hair out of her eyes. Pauline Neumann clearly didn’t want anyone riffling through her life. Not that Brydie blamed her—everybody had secrets. But she found herself frustrated that the trunk was locked, and she considered for a moment trying to force it open.
Scolding herself for having such a thought, she was interrupted by Teddy’s whining at the top of the stairs. “Hold on,” she said to him in mock aggravation. “I know it’s lunchtime.”
Giving the trunk one last longing look, she gathered up her cleaning supplies and headed back up the stairs. The mystery, at least for today, would simply have to wait.
CHAPTER 19
BY THE END OF HER WORKWEEK, BRYDIE WAS GLAD IT WAS payday at ShopCo. Brydie wasn’t used to regularly scheduled paydays, and she had to admit it was kind of nice. Since she worked Monday nights through Thursday nights, she got to pick up her paycheck on Friday morning before she left for her days off.
“I like it that way,” Rosa said, opening one of the ovens to insert a cake. “I can pick up my and Lillie’s checks, cash them at the service desk, and do our shopping before we go home. Then we have a few days off with a little money in our pockets.”
“I was too tired on the first payday to do much of anything,” Brydie replied. “But the second time around, I think I’ll be able to stay conscious long enough to do the same thing.”
“You’ve been here a month!” Rosa exclaimed, clapping Brydie on the back.
“It ain’t somethin’ to brag about,” Joe said, boxing a dozen cupcakes. “I’ve got milk in my fridge at home older than that.”
“Yeah,” Rosa replied, “but you probably shouldn’t.”
Brydie stifled a laugh. “I just hope I can make it through Christmas.”
“Joe scared three girls off last year,” Rosa said, giving Joe a sideways glance. “Two of them never even came back for their last check.”
“They were hacks,” Joe replied. “None of them had your eye, Bridget.”
Brydie was so surprised by the compliment that she didn’t even think to correct Joe on her name. “Thank you.”
Joe nodded. “Now get back to work. You’ve still got two hours before those checks are ready.”
BRYDIE PUSHED HER cart languidly down the aisles. She’d thought that she would be able to stay up to do grocery shopping, but now she just felt like crawling inside the cart and going to sleep. The only thing keeping her awake was her excitement about buying the ingredients for a few new recipes for dog treats as she browsed the Internet. In fact, she’d come up with one recipe all on her own—a doggie cupcake.
As she walked toward the front of the store, she saw that the little hair salon inside ShopCo had begun to open for the day. She’d never been there late enough in the morning to see it open. She thought it was a tad strange for a hair salon to be inside a grocery store, but Rosa told her that she and Lillian both got their hair done there. Of course, she’d always seen their hair inside a hairnet, or just out of a hairnet. Nobody’s hair looked good after wearing a hairnet for a full eight hours. Maybe that’s why Joe was bald.
Brydie was so preoccupied with thinking about hairnets and Joe’s big, bald head that she didn’t notice one of the women in the shop beckoning to her.
“Hey!” the woman said. “Hey, ma’am!”
“What?” Brydie looked around. “Me?”
“Yeah,” the woman replied. “You need a cut and color.”
“Oh, no,” Brydie said. “I’m all right.”
The woman held up her finger to Brydie and began fishing around in one of the drawers at her station. She pulled out a mirror and trotted toward her. “I wasn’t asking a question,” she said, holding up the mirror so Brydie could see her face.
Brydie had to force herself not to look away. Being up all night showed everywhere, especially around her eyes. And her hair. Oh, her hair. True, the hairnet hadn’t done her any favors, but her hair was a mess even before. “Is it that bad?” she asked.
“It’s not great,” the woman said. “I don’t have any appointments this morning. Why don’t you come in and let me give you a nice cut and color.”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m Mandy,” the woman said. She pointed to Brydie’s name tag, still hanging from her shirt. “Employees get a fifteen percent discount.”
Brydie thought about it. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten her hair cut, and it had been years since she’d had it colored. Allan liked her hair long, and so she’d kept it long, a fact that drove her mother crazy—that Brydie would keep her hair a certain way for a man. But really, it was because Brydie never really cared much about her hair. Now, looking in the mirror, she thought maybe she might consider giving caring about her hair a try. One step at a time, she told herself.
“Okay,” Brydie said to Mandy, pushing her basket to the side of the salon. “Let’s do it.”
CHAPTER 20
BRYDIE LOOKED INTO THE MIRROR, MOVING HER HEAD from side to side. She just couldn’t believe how different she looked.
“Do you like it?” Mandy asked, standing behind the chair where Brydie sat. “I told you an all-over chocolate with caramel highlights would do the trick.”
“You make my head sound like a cake,” Brydie replied.
“Sorry,” Mandy said. “I guess I’ve worked up an appetite.”
“That’s all right,” Brydie said. “I like cake.”
Mandy pulled out her straightening iron and smoothed a few unruly strands in the back. “What do you think of the cut?”
“I love it.” Brydie touched the back of her hair. It felt soft and sleek. “I especially like the way it’s swingy.”
Mandy laughed. “It’s a classic bob with a twist. It’s just a little shorter in the back than in the front. It does mean you’ll need to have a trim every few weeks.”
“Well, it’ll be hard to forget about with the salon in the same building where I work,” Brydie said. “Thank you so much. I had no idea that this was exactly what I needed today.”
“You look like a whole new woman!”
“I do,” Brydie replied. “And I think I like her.”
BRYDIE DROVE HOME, checking the clock every couple of minutes. She was two hours later than normal, and she was worried about Teddy. Their routine of breakfast and a nap had been disturbed, and as silly as she knew it sounded, she was worried he would be upset. At least once she got to the house all she’d have to do was put groceries away, fix breakfast, and take Teddy out for a short walk. Then the two of them could snooze the day away.
She blinked her eyes, hard, trying to keep them focused, when from out of nowhere a flash of feet and fur darted out in front of her and across the street. Brydie slammed on her brakes, sending her car careening to the side of the street and up onto the grassy median.
Brydie sat there for a second, stunned, trying to collect herself. After a few seconds, she looked down to see that she was still gripping the steering wheel as if her life depended upon it. Unfurling her fingers, she got out of the car to inspect the damage. She walked around her Fiat and breathed a sigh of relief that there didn’t seem to be a scratch or a dent or a popped tire or anything else. She was glad, too, that she hadn’t hit whatever it was that ran out in front of her.
But what had it been? She looked around the empty street and houses nearby. She didn’t see anything. Just as she was about to get back into her car and chalk the whole thing up to some kind of exhaustion-induced hallucination, she saw something large peeking out from behind one of the bushes in the yard of the house across the street. Brydie squinted and edged closer. Something about whatever it was looked oddly familiar. It took her just another second to realize she’d
seen the thing before.
It was a dog.
And not just any dog—it was Nathan’s huge Irish wolfhound, Sasha.
Panic began to fill Brydie’s throat. She couldn’t imagine Nathan ever letting Sasha outside to run around on her own. She must have escaped. Brydie abandoned her car and jogged across the street.
“Sasha!” she called. “Sasha! Come here!”
Sasha peeked out again from behind the bush and, realizing that it was Brydie, came lumbering toward her, full throttle.
“Wait!” Brydie shrieked. “Wait, wait! Sasha! No!”
But it was too late. Sasha was on top of Brydie, licking her face with her enormous, wet tongue. Brydie managed to push Sasha off her and grab hold of her collar. “Oh, you’re in so much trouble,” she said. “How did you get out?”
Sasha just panted and followed along, seemingly unbothered by Brydie dragging her back across the street and to Brydie’s car. Sasha was roughly half the size of her Fiat, Brydie surmised, and that was without all the groceries filling her backseat. “Get in,” she demanded, opening the front door.
Brydie hurried around to the driver’s side and got in. Sasha was hunched over in the seat next to her as Brydie eased off the median and back onto the road. It didn’t take long for Sasha’s nose to begin to twitch, taking in the scent of the groceries. “Don’t even think about it,” Brydie said.
By the time Brydie pulled into Nathan’s driveway, Sasha had wiggled herself halfway into the backseat, happily sniffing her way through each bag. In the front yard was a woman, talking on her cell phone and waving her free arm about. When she saw Brydie get out of the car, she ran up to her.
“Oh my God,” she said, out of breath and wheezing slightly. “You found her! Oh my God, thank you!” She threw her arms around Brydie as Brydie tried to open the passenger’s-side door and pull Sasha out of whichever ShopCo bag she’d ravaged.
“Get her leash,” Brydie said.
“Oh yeah, her leash!” The woman ran inside and emerged a few seconds later, triumphant. “I found it!”
Brydie took it from her and clipped it to Sasha’s collar. “Come on,” she said to the dog, who had half a head of lettuce still in her mouth.
“Where did you find her?” the woman asked. “I’ve been looking all over.”
“She ran out in front of my car,” Brydie replied.
“I couldn’t catch her,” the woman said. “She got through the door before I got her leash on, and she ran off.”
Brydie studied the woman in front of her. She was young, maybe twenty-two, with long blond hair and a nice tan, despite it being November. She looked like she belonged on a college campus in Florida somewhere. “Well, she’s okay now,” Brydie said.
Just then, a black Range Rover pulled into the driveway, and out hopped Nathan. He looked confusedly between Brydie and the woman, his eyes finally settling on Sasha, who’d lain down between the women, casually licking the lettuce. “What happened, Myriah?”
“She’s back!” Myriah said. “I’m sorry I called you in such a panic, but this lady here found her.”
Brydie tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. All she wanted to do was get into her car and disappear back down the street, but they were both staring at her like they expected her to speak. “Well,” she said. “It was no big deal. I’m glad she’s all right. I’d better get home.”
“Hey, wait,” Nathan said. Then turning to Myriah said, “Take Sasha back inside. I’ll be there in a second.”
“I really need to get home,” Brydie said.
“Thanks for finding Sasha,” Nathan replied.
“She kind of found me,” Brydie replied. “She ran out in front of my car. I almost hit her.”
“She thinks it’s a game when she gets loose,” Nathan explained. “Myriah underestimates her, I think.”
“Yeah, well,” Brydie said with a shrug. “I’d better let you get back to them.” She turned around and pulled open the door to her car.
“Did I do something to upset you?” Nathan pressed.
“No.”
“Then why are you in such a big hurry to get away from me?”
“I’m not in a hurry,” Brydie said. “I’ve been at work all night, and I should have been home by now. Instead, I just wasted an hour corralling your dog and then watching her eat an entire head of lettuce.”
“I’ll pay you for the lettuce.”
Brydie rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “But you might want to tell your girlfriend to make sure she has Sasha’s leash on before opening the door to go outside.”
“Myriah?” Nathan glanced back at his house. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Brydie replied.
“It matters to me,” Nathan said. “I thought we were having a good time the other night, you know, until we suddenly weren’t.”
“We were,” Brydie said. “I mean we did. Look, I’m sorry about all of that. It wasn’t your fault. I didn’t mean to be so rude.”
“I didn’t like having to end our evening early,” Nathan replied. “What we were doing before that phone call, well, I thought it was pretty great.”
“It was,” Brydie said, biting the bottom of her lip. “It’s just been such a long time since I’ve, you know, dated anyone. I guess I got a little freaked out.”
This response seemed to placate him. “I haven’t dated anyone since I moved here,” he said. “I’m a little rusty myself.”
“You were doing a pretty good job.”
“You’ve got a leaf in your hair,” Nathan replied, reaching around to pluck the leaf from its resting spot.
“That must have happened when your gigantic dog wrestled me to the ground.”
“Sasha only tackles people she really, really likes.”
“Is that so?” Brydie asked, trying not to grin.
“I like your hair, by the way. I almost didn’t recognize you.”
“Thanks,” Brydie replied.
“So,” Nathan said, letting the leaf in his hand fall to the ground. “Do you want to try it again?”
Brydie hesitated. She did want to try again. That was all she wanted, but she was afraid she would mess it up again. “I don’t know.”
“Let’s just start off slow,” Nathan replied. “Let’s meet up for coffee in the dog park tomorrow afternoon. I’ll buy.”
“I’ll buy,” Brydie said. “I owe you one.”
Nathan grinned. “Okay, how about four o’clock?”
“Teddy and I will be there.”
Nathan waved to her as he went back into his house, and Brydie got into her car, finally releasing the smile she’d been holding. She looked into the rearview mirror at herself, at her new hair. Maybe it was silly, but for the first time in a long time, she thought maybe she really could see the beginnings of a whole new person.
CHAPTER 21
SO YOU’RE TELLING ME THAT YOU BASICALLY STARTED A fight and then ran out of his house in the middle of a make-out session, and he still wants to see you again?” Elliott asked the next morning, resting her water bottle on her protruding stomach. “Look! No hands!”
“That’s what I’m telling you.” Brydie licked chocolate off the tip of her thumb and placed two chocolate bars in the center of the dough in front of her. “I can’t believe he even wanted to talk to me, let alone see me again.”
“He’s a keeper,” Elliott replied. She eyed the pastry Brydie was perfecting. “Please tell me you’re making enough of whatever that is to give some to me.”
“It’s a chocolate croissant braid,” Brydie said. “I thought it would go well with the coffee I’m taking to the dog park.”
“I’m so glad you’re baking again,” Elliott said. “Everyone in my house is glad you’re baking again.”
Brydie looked over at Mia, who was sitting in front of the television next to Teddy. “I’ll send one home with you.”
“She talks about Teddy all the time,” Elliott s
aid, nodding her head toward Mia. She wants a dog of her own.”
“So get her one,” Brydie replied.
“Do you have a fever?” Elliott asked. “Aren’t you the same person who called that pug over there an ‘it’ for the first two weeks you lived here?”
Brydie shrugged. “Things change.”
“Obviously.”
“I don’t know,” Brydie said. “He just makes me feel less alone.”
“I read a study once that said having a pet can reduce depression,” Elliott replied. “Do you think that’s true?”
Brydie thought about it. A doctor she’d seen just after the divorce suggested she get Prozac and a cat. At the time, it brought images to her mind of the crazy cat lady who lived down the street from her as a child. Brydie’s mother had hated the house. She said the whole neighborhood smelled like cats because of the woman who lived there, an aging German woman named Uta. When Uta died, the Humane Society had to come in and take the cats. Brydie begged her mother for one, but Ruth Benson said she would rather take Uta’s place in the grave than clean a litter box.
Uta had been old, yes, and maybe her house did smell a little bit like kitty litter. However, she always had the best candy at Halloween, and Uta had always been kind to Brydie. She thought maybe if her mother let her adopt a cat, everybody in her house might be a bit happier.
“I think that it’s probably true,” Brydie said finally. “Nathan said he’s training Sasha to be a therapy dog at the nursing home. I’m sure part of that therapy is to help with feelings of depression while living there.”
“You mean the huge dog that escaped from him and tackled you?” Elliott asked, a smirk appearing on her face. “Seems legit.”
“She didn’t escape from him,” Brydie corrected her. “She escaped from her dog sitter or something.”
“Or something?”
“I don’t know who the woman was.”
“Woman?”
Brydie sighed. She loved her friend, but she didn’t know when to stop asking questions. “I assume she was the dog sitter,” she said. “I made some crack about how Nathan could go back inside to his girlfriend, and he said she wasn’t his girlfriend.”
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