Luck of the Irish

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Luck of the Irish Page 6

by K. G. MacGregor


  She reached through the gap at the gate to pet the excited beagles. “You guys want to go live with Hank? He’s got three little kids and a great big yard.”

  Eager to share her news, she bounded up the steps and through the kitchen door. The sight that greeted her hit her like a spear in the heart. Three cardboard boxes sat in the kitchen, filled to overflowing with Abigail’s books, toiletries, and other personal items. Hanging clothes were draped over the kitchen chairs, and Abigail was coming from the bedroom with a trash bag filled with clothes from her drawers.

  “Abigail?” Tears rushed to Jackie’s eyes as she took in the scene. “What are you doing?”

  Abigail dropped the bag and rushed to her, holding up both hands. “It’s just for a little while, Jackie.”

  “But why?”

  “Because I need to.” She took both of Jackie’s hands and pulled her toward the couch. “Come sit with me.”

  “I don’t want to sit. I want you to put your stuff back where it belongs,” she pleaded.

  Abigail continued to guide her across the room, holding onto her until they sat face to face on the couch. “I’m going to go stay with Rosemary for a while. I just need to have a little time away so I can finish up the semester without having to worry about the dogs…or the house—all of that.”

  “I can do a better job with the dogs, I promise.” Jackie could hear the desperation in her own voice and tried to tamp it down. “It’s not so cold anymore, so there’s no reason they can’t stay outside during the day. And I can start feeding them out there so it won’t make such a mess.”

  “Jackie, we’ve had this talk before, almost word for word. And for a few days, maybe even for a couple of weeks, things will be better. But little by little, it eventually goes back to the way it was.” She tilted Jackie’s chin with her fingertips so they were looking into each other’s eyes. “I love you too much to keep fighting about everything. It’s not good for us.”

  “Can’t you stay?” Jackie begged, her tears streaming unchecked. “I’m sorry I didn’t do more. I didn’t know how much it bothered you.”

  “I’m not going to Rosemary’s to punish you. I’m going because I just need to concentrate on me for a while.” She patted her chest. “She and I talked last night and—”

  “I always knew Rosemary didn’t like me.”

  “She does like you, Jackie. But I’m her little sister and she’s looking out for me. That’s why she’s letting me stay with her, so I can focus on the things I have to do right now for school without having to worry about anything else.”

  “So…how long will you be gone?”

  Abigail sucked in a deep breath between her teeth as Jackie steeled for the worst. “I really want to finish school, like I was telling you the other night. It’s not just so I can get a job. It’s because I really want to work in radiology. It’s interesting and I’d get to work with a lot of smart people. Doing something like that is my dream, just like you buying the Ashby farm is your dream. But none of our dreams are going to come true all by themselves.”

  “I know that. That’s why we’re saving, so we can do those things.”

  “Get real, Jackie. We’re hardly saving anything. We have seven thousand dollars from your mother, and a meager thousand that we’ve added to it in three years. At that rate, we’ll be fifty years old before we can afford our own house, and it won’t be the Ashby farm. It’ll be some little shack like this one with holes in the porch.”

  Jackie sighed miserably, the truth of Abigail’s words hitting home.

  “If we’re going to do better than that, we’re both going to have to get better jobs. Rosemary says I can stay with her and help with AJ. That means I can have my degree in a year and when I get—”

  “A year!”

  “I probably won’t stay there the whole time—but I’m going to have to cut back on my work hours and I won’t be bringing home enough to pay half the bills.”

  “I can’t pay for all this on just my paycheck.”

  “But if you didn’t have all the animals, you wouldn’t need this house. You could live over in Mountain Village for half of what we pay here, and all the utilities are included.”

  “I can’t get rid of Wally. He’s all I have left of Mom. She told me to look after him.”

  “They’ll let you have one pet, Jackie.”

  “But we have a yard here.”

  “So you and Wally will have to take walks out to Sumter Point. He’ll like that, and so will you. Besides, it’s just for a while, a year at the most. Then we might be able to get our own house.”

  “So if I get rid of all the other dogs and cats, why can’t we move to Mountain Village together? You could save just as much money living with me as you could with Rosemary.”

  Abigail sighed, the frustration evident on her face. “Because I need some time away…to think about stuff.”

  Jackie’s stomach lurched. “Do you still love me?”

  “Yes, I love you with all my heart. And that’s why we have to do this now—because I want to love you forever, and I don’t want to keep fighting about everything. But we have to get our lives back on track, both of us, and start making our own luck. I can’t keep living hand to mouth like this.”

  “You know I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”

  “It’s what we need.” Abigail squeezed Jackie’s hands. “It’s for both of us, so we can be together someday and enjoy each other without worrying all the time.”

  Jackie pushed the tears from her cheeks and returned her hands to Abigail’s. “So you promise you’re not leaving me for good?”

  “No way. I’m not that easy to get rid of.”

  “You know I’m going to go crazy without you here.”

  “It’s all going to be okay, sweetie. I promise it’s just for a little while.” Abigail smiled at her, and stood up to grasp her trash bag full of clothes. “I need to get back to Rosemary’s before AJ goes to bed. Will you help me put all this in the car?”

  Jackie nodded dismally and picked up one of the boxes. After two more trips to the car, they had everything packed.

  “I think that’s everything,” Abigail said.

  Jackie stood by the car door with her hands in her pockets, shivering in the night breeze. The dogs clamored for attention at the gate. “Don’t get too comfortable over there. Mo and Molly will be gone before the weekend. That’s two down, five to go.” Jackie gave her a meager smile, the best she could manage under the circumstances. “Please don’t go, Abigail.”

  Abigail answered with a soft kiss to Jackie’s lips, and then got into the car. “I love you. Don’t forget that.”

  Once again, Jackie found herself hoping the car wouldn’t start.

  But once again, it did.

  ***

  By the dusty clock on the dash of the pickup, it was seven thirty, an hour earlier than Jackie usually started work. Abigail had called her for a jump at six-fifteen, and after driving over to Rosemary’s, she decided she would try to get an early start on her day. She figured Oscar would let her leave at four so she could run by the bank for funds. She wanted to give Abigail money for her lab book before class at six, and pick up a battery for the Escort.

  Jackie yawned and rolled her neck to loosen up. She had tossed and turned all night, waking herself from a fitful sleep each time she reached to the empty side of the bed. Whatever it took, she would find homes for all the dogs and cats, and even get a second job if she had to. Nothing was worth losing Abigail.

  “Hey! You’re in early.”

  “G’morning, Oscar.” She collected the litter pan and food bowls and set them aside so she could wipe out the crate. “I had to get up and jump that old Escort again this morning so I figured I might as well come on in to work.”

  “So Abigail came back home, I take it?”

  Jackie shook her head. “Not unless you want to count coming by to get her stuff.”

  “What?”

  “She’s staying with he
r sister for a while. Says she needs to be away from everything so she can concentrate on finishing up her school stuff. Did you know they dissected cats in that lab of hers?”

  Oscar looked away too late, his face not hiding his guilt.

  “You knew?”

  “Edgar takes a few out there at the first of the semester. They say it helps the students understand all the organs better when they can see them up close.”

  “Hmmpff! You can learn a lot more useful stuff from a cat that’s living and breathing.”

  “So what’s up with Abigail? Y’all aren’t going to break up, are you?”

  “No! She just needs a little time away. I’ve been…kind of a jerk lately.”

  “Now that’s hard to imagine. I know we all have our bad days, but the only time I ever see you get riled up is when somebody mistreats one of these animals.”

  “No, she’s right, Oscar. I haven’t been paying attention to things at home like I should. You know it must be bad if she has to leave to get me to notice.”

  “But she’s coming back?”

  “She says she is. But I don’t know what to think.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Something’s been really eating at her lately. She thinks it’s because we don’t ever have enough money, but I don’t know if that’s really the problem. I’m worried that it might be something more serious than that.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know, Oscar. What if she’s not in love with me anymore?” Jackie’s lower lip quivered as she said the dreaded words aloud.

  “Aw, you don’t really think that, do you?”

  “I don’t know what to think. But all I’ve got to go on is what she says.”

  “So what happens now?”

  “The first thing is I have to find new homes for two more dogs and three cats.”

  “Well at least it’s something you’re pretty good at.”

  “Yeah, I figure it’s a good chance to try out some of the things I’d want to do if we had a no-kill shelter.” She pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket. “I wrote down some ideas last night for how to get the word out. The first thing I want to do is take pictures of Danny Boy and Sweet Pea and all the cats. Can I borrow your digital camera?”

  “Sure, I’ll bring it in tomorrow. You hear any more about Hank and them beagles?”

  “He should have his fence up by this afternoon, so Mo and Molly are practically out the door. The cats are going to be tougher to place because everybody wants kittens.”

  “That little black one’s not very old, is he? He’s like a kitten.”

  Jackie scratched her chin as she thought about it. “Tao’s about two. Maybe I should take a picture of him playing with stuff.”

  “And make sure when you take that Persian’s picture, you don’t get that ugly eye.”

  She thought about his advice, but it just didn’t sit right. “No, you know what I need to do, Oscar?” Jackie turned her paper over and started to write down her new ideas. “I need to tell people what happened to Clementine, how a bunch of boys playing around with a BB gun shot her eye out and left her for dead. And I need to tell them what a fighter Mango was, how all the other kittens in his litter died when they were pitched out on the side of the road.”

  “That’s it, tell their stories.”

  “All these animals have stories, Oscar. That’s what we can do to get folks to connect.” She walked out to the customer counter and rummaged in the file drawer.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Looking for the phone book. I need to call the radio station.”

  After thirty minutes of hammering out the details with the station manager, it was all set. Starting next week, she and Oscar would do two-minute interviews over the phone three times a week to tell the stories of some of the animals available for adoption.

  “You’re not getting me on the radio,” Oscar whined.

  “But I’m not going to be here on Mondays anymore, not unless you can figure out how to get Roy Lee to pay me overtime.”

  “Pfft! Fat chance of that.”

  “That’s what I thought. Besides, you’ll be good at this because you sound like a grandpa on the phone. Folks will like that.”

  “But what’ll I say? That’s less than a week away.” Oscar was clearly panicked.

  “Why don’t you start with this one right here?” She picked up the feral cat and grinned. “Tell about how Edgar found him eating out of the dumpster by the grocery, and that he looked like one great big set of eyes before we fattened him up. Say that he’ll set a good example for people’s kids because he likes vegetables.” As she talked about the cat and stroked his slender neck, he nipped at her twice before turning his head so that she scratched him just right. “And then say that with just a little attention, he could be somebody’s sweetheart.”

  “You’re serious!”

  “Damn right I am! So don’t forget come next Monday to wear your best shirt, and maybe a tie.”

  Mindlessly, Oscar nodded. “Right, I’ll get a—wait a minute. People won’t be able to see me on the radio.”

  Jackie shook her head and smiled. “Boy, nothing gets by you, Oscar.”

  The front door creaked and then slammed with the force of the wind, depositing a bearded young man in a flannel shirt and down vest at their counter. They rarely got walk-ins during the week, especially first thing in the morning, and Jackie noted right off that the man looked haggard and worn out. “Can I help you with something?”

  “I’m looking for a dog…my dog. He was in my car when it got stolen a month ago in Atlanta. The cops found it last week up in Bowling Green but there was no sign of Casey.” His story was rote, as if he had told it dozens of times. “I’ve hit nearly every shelter in Tennessee looking for him, thinking maybe they put him out on the side of the road or something. He’s an—”

  “Irish setter?” Jackie finished hopefully.

  His eyes suddenly came to life. “You have him? You have Casey?”

  Oscar slapped his hand on the young man’s back. “Talk about the luck of the Irish!”

  Jackie figured she probably had some Irish blood running through her veins too, because this man might have just saved her love life.

  ***

  Abigail’s tires bounced through the potholes as she rolled along the dirt driveway, their last load of gravel long since ground into the earth. All day she’d been thinking about Jackie, how she’d come out at the crack of dawn in her flannel PJs and sweatshirt to jumpstart her car, shivering and bleary-eyed. Without one word of complaint, she’d gone about her business and sent her off on her way, calling after her that she wouldn’t pick up that battery after all if it meant they’d get to see each other every morning. It was typical Jackie, always finding a silver lining even in the worst of circumstances. It just wasn’t in her nature to get bent out of shape over things like unpaid bills, cat fur on the furniture or dirty paw prints on her pillowcase. The only time Jackie ever lost it was when she hurt, like the day her mother died or the other night when Abigail had packed her things and gone to her sister’s house.

  She never wanted to see that look on Jackie’s face again, especially not when she was the cause. It was clear her words of reason about getting away just for a while hadn’t been much comfort, and she wanted to try again to set Jackie’s mind to rest.

  It was odd to find the house dark at eight o’clock, with no sign of the pickup. Her headlights caught Wally and Sweet Pea behind the chain link fence, but no Mo or Molly, and no gorgeous Irish setter. She parked off to the side in case Jackie returned, and left the engine running, not wanting to push her luck on getting the Escort to start twice in a row.

  The moment she entered the side door she knew things were different. For one thing, the kitchen was tidy, with dishes stacked in the drainer and a fresh trash bag in the can. A large tray of dry cat chow sat in the corner alongside a water bowl, which could only mean one thing—the dogs no longer had th
e run of the house. Her wonder continued in the living room, which was neat as a pin. Tao looked down from his perch and swished his tail, but Mango never stirred from his nest on the couch. A quick look under the kitchen table left Abigail baffled. Where was Clementine?

  And where was Jackie? She hardly ever missed Jeopardy! at seven.

  More surprises awaited her in the bedroom, where the laundry sat folded in a basket on the made-up bed. If she hadn’t known better, she’d have sworn someone else had moved in. Or maybe Jackie really was serious about turning over a new leaf.

  She locked the door behind her and drove out the winding state road to her mother’s home, taking her chances this time by turning off the ignition. The wooden porch, which Antoine had built the summer before shipping out with his unit for a third tour in Afghanistan, was sturdier than the tin can to which it was attached. Every time the wind picked up, she imagined the doublewide living up its name as a mobile home.

  After two short raps on the aluminum door she let herself in, bracing as always for the stench of stale cigarette smoke. “Mama?”

  Raynelle emerged from the hallway, already wearing her bathrobe and slippers, her all-day attire on her only day off. “What are you doing out? Rosemary run you off with one of her lectures on bettering yourself?”

  Abigail snorted. Their mother knew them both so well. “I haven’t been home yet. I went over to the college library to work on putting my lab book back together.”

  “Yeah, I heard about that.”

  “You did?”

  Raynelle lit a long thin cigarette, drew a deep breath and exhaled a plume of fine white smoke. “Jackie came by this afternoon to do laundry and I fixed her a big plate of chicken ’n dumplings. We sat down to watch the news and she ate like she was starving to death. Then all of a sudden she jumped up and said she had to go, jabbering something about the luck of the Irish.”

 

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