“Okay. I know I can’t walk three more miles. Maybe you have a death wish, but I don’t. I’m not walking one mile, two miles, or three miles. Get that through your head.”
“Yes, you are. You said you weren’t a quitter.”
“I never said I wasn’t a quitter. I am a quitter. I want to take a bath and go to bed. I don’t care about dinner. Please.”
“Ready? Fall in.”
“I hate you. I hate your guts. No one in her right mind goes through torture like this. I don’t even know you. You moved into my house and took over. You have no right. Do you hear me? You have no right to make me do this.”
“Shut up and walk.”
Kristine clamped her lips shut and followed the banker out to the front of the house. Later she would think about why she was such a blind fool.
“Try to keep up this time. No lagging behind. I want to see some spirit in your movements. I want some enthusiasm.”
“When I kill you, I will be full of enthusiasm. Don’t talk to me. I’m plotting your death. While you sleep. You’ll never know what hit you.”
Woodie grinned. “I sleep with one eye open. C’mon, lift those feet. Put some muscle into those legs. You’re shuffling. Old people shuffle. People your age are supposed to be full of vim and vigor. Of course most people aren’t drunks. Move, move!”
“If you open your mouth one more time, I swear to God I will put my foot in it. Shut up. I don’t want to hear any more of your little ditties. I don’t want to hear your voice. Period.”
Seventy minutes later, Woodie said, “Good time. We actually did better this time than we did this morning. I guess that means you’re getting the hang of it. I’m going to make dinner, but first you have to wash the dishes. While you’re doing that I’ll make up a solution for you to soak your feet. You can watch me cook.”
In spite of herself, Kristine asked, “What are you cooking?”
“Chicken, salad, baked potato, fruit, and maybe some carrots. Why?”
“Because I’m hungry, that’s why.”
“I thought you said you were too tired to eat.”
“That was then, this is now. I like my potatoes twice baked with cheese and sour cream. Bacon bits are good.”
“I know a restaurant that serves them that way. Ours are going to be plain. Wash the dishes.”
It was simpler to wash the dishes than it was to argue. When Kristine finished, she sat down to lower her feet into a dishpan full of bubbling salts. Nothing in the world had ever felt so good. She sighed her relief, tears filling her eves.
“Tell me something, Kristine. In the past four hours how many times did you wish for a drink and how many times did you think about where you might have hidden bottles of liquor?”
Kristine jerked to full wakefulness. Her eyes wide with shock, she said, “I didn’t.”
“Good for you. Maybe I’ll let you have some butter on your potato.”
A moment later, Kristine was asleep at the kitchen table, her head resting on her arms.
“You just might make it after all, Kristine Kelly. What do you guys think?” Woodie asked as he cuddled the dogs.
“They think you’re as crazy as a bedbug,” Kristine muttered. “Don’t get attached to those dogs, they’re mine.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Woodie said smartly.
Kristine’s eyes widened in awe. “I didn’t think it was possible to restore this old barn to the way it was when my parents were in business. Everything is older, worn, but it’s good enough to get me started. I thought for sure when you suggested pressure-washing everything, the whole building would collapse. I love the smell of whitewash. Mom was always funny about that. She wouldn’t let Dad paint anything. She did all the whitewashing herself, on a ladder with a long-handled kind of squeegee thing. She said it was important for customers to see how clean and sanitary it was when they were paying top dollar for a pup. Sometimes I’d just come in here and lie in the sweet-smelling hay to cuddle with the pups and sniff to my heart’s content. Pretty silly, huh?”
“I like the idea that you aren’t going to keep the dogs in cages. There’s something in me that revolts at seeing anything in a cage,” Woodie said, looking around.
“Me too. Mom said they used the kennels in the beginning but got rid of them as soon as they could. The dogs that were caged weren’t well adjusted. She’s the one who came up with the bins with the straw. Yorkshire terriers are small, and the Teacups only weigh in at between three and seven pounds. They can’t get out, but they can see what’s going on. It makes them people-friendly, which is what this is all about. You did a good job constructing those little havens. The hay smells sweet, doesn’t it?”
“I think we’re farm people. We like the same things. To me this is a slice of heaven. Are you going to hire a vet?”
“If I can get this all up and running, I am. And a handler, too, in case I decide to show some of the dogs. I always wanted to be a vet, but my parents said that was an unseemly profession for a woman. Back then I didn’t have any backbone. My parents said I had to go to the community college, so I did one year there and I was so miserable, they relented and allowed me to go to Old Dominion. I did one semester, and then they died. I always regretted not finishing and pursuing my dream. I guess it wasn’t meant to be. Do you really think I can pull this off, Woodie?”
“Yes, Kristine, I do. The day we started work in here, you committed one hundred percent. I guess the real question is, where are you going to get your dogs?”
“From a lady named Cher Hildebrand in Dayton, Ohio. She’s agreed to handle the dogs for the shows if I decide to go that route. It’s a bit intimidating at first. When you show dogs you earn points toward a championship and have to win over the other Yorkies by the judge of the day. You breed for perfection in the Yorkie, trying to create that perfect dog. It’s called a Standard for each breed, and as show people you are breeding toward that Standard to show. You show to make sure you are on target with the breeding program and producing an excellent dog that is good enough to become a champion. Sometimes you show two or three weekends a month. Our operative words here are going to be socializing our pups. The first pups arrive next month. Ms. Hildebrand is driving them here personally. I have a feeling she and I are going to become very good friends. She thinks like I do.
“My parents were considered ethical breeders. Their reputations were known all over the country. I want the same kind of reputation, and I know I’m going to have to earn it. Ms. Hildebrand is known for her ethical reputation and her Goldenray Yorkshire terriers. She’s the one I’ll be doing most of my business with, but I am getting two other pups from a breeder in Kansas. I’m starting small. I’m just so thankful my parents’ old records didn’t burn along with the barn. I’ve forgotten so many things, but I’m good to go, as they say. Let me give you the guided tour, Mr. Dunwoodie. That’s the first thing my mother always said when a customer came through the doors. She allowed me to do it a few times. I always felt important.
“These, Mr. Dunwoodie, are the bins or stalls where we keep the pups. The straw keeps them warm even though the barn is heated. Note the soft flannel sheets. New pups need warmth. No one is permitted to pick up or handle the dogs except me. We have twelve of these bins. At some point, Mr. Dunwoodie, I hope to have them all filled with gorgeous, beautiful dogs that will make each new owner very happy. As you can see, everything is whitewashed and clean. It’s always like this. Our dogs are healthy and happy. You will never notice an odor in here. We have fans overhead and cross-ventilation. We have outside runs for the dogs. Pups are kept separate during the first month. Everyone gets plenty of exercise. Our dog food is nutritionally balanced. At some point, I’ll sell the food along with a line of collars, leashes, and dog treats, but not just yet.
“This is our kitchen. As you can see, everything is stainless steel, the bathing tubs as well as the refrigerator. The washer and dryer are probably on their last legs but will serve the purpose for now. We use old towe
ls, sheets, and blankets and wash them daily. Each pup gets his or her own blanket and toy when they’re a month old. It makes it easier when they go off with a new owner and have to leave siblings and Mom behind. I used to cry my eyes out when it was time for one of them to leave. You get a feel for people when they arrive. My mother was like a hawk when it came to the owners. If she had the least suspicion that someone wasn’t up to her standards, she said no. Over the years I saw her turn away dozens of people. I want to match the right owner with the right dog. I want each dog to be loved, and I want the dog to love his new owner. It’s that simple. In later years, Mom started to breed Maltese and, before the accident, she and Dad were considering Jack Russells. Sometime down the road, I might do that, but Yorkies are my passion now.
“This is the office. It’s kind of spartan, with just a desk, chair, and file cabinets. I’ll bring in some green plants, a coffeemaker, and some stuff to make it a little homier.
“This last room is what Mom always called the clinic room. Examining table, stainless-steel sink, cabinet, chair. Lots and lots of disinfectant in the cabinets. That’s your tour, Woodie.”
“I’m impressed. I brought you something, Kristine.”
“A present? What is it?”
“It’s in the car. Do you have a ladder?”
“Silly question. You spent the past three weeks on it. It’s on the back porch.”
“I need a screwdriver and some pliers? I’ll put the ladder in the car and we’ll drive out to the main road. What do you think?” Woodie asked, lifting a sign out of the backseat of his car.
Kristine’s vision blurred. “Woodie, this is wonderful. I thought about getting a new sign but decided to wait. Who painted it? We need a celebration of some kind. But, not now.”
“I love celebrations. Aren’t we backlogged on our celebrations? One of these days we’re really going to have a big one and combine everything in one. Actually, one of the girls at the bank painted the sign. Her father cut the sign into the pattern of a Yorkie, and she did the painting and the lettering. I think it looks professional.”
Kristine’s index finger traced the raised lettering: SUMMERS KENNELS. Owned and operated by Kristine Summers. “Oh, Woodie, this is just perfect. Thank you so much.”
“What do you want to do with the old one?” Woodie asked as he tightened the last screw on the cheerful-looking sign.
“Throw it away.”
“Do you think your parents would approve of this one or is it too ... cutesy?”
Kristine’s lips tightened. “They probably wouldn’t approve. They rarely approved of anything I did. My mother was a master at finding fault. I think I tried all my life to win their approval. There was never a pat on the head or a smile or words of encouragement. I never knew why that was. I was dutiful. All I wanted was a smile or a word of praise. Sometimes, now, when I think back, I think I turned myself inside out trying to please them. I did the same thing with Logan. Then when the fire happened, I wigged out. All this guilt came crashing down on me. Maybe I should have tried harder, done more. Sometimes I still have nightmares over that.”
“It doesn’t pay to think about the past. It’s gone. Tomorrow isn’t here yet, so all you have is today. And today, Kristine, is, in a manner of speaking, the first day of your new business life. Congratulations!”
Kristine could feel her throat start to tighten up. Hot tears pricked her eyelids. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Woodie. I will be forever grateful. If you hadn’t come along when you did, my snoot would still be in the bottle. How do I thank you for that?”
“You just did. I think you would have done it for me if the situation were reversed.”
“Not the old Kristine. Maybe this new improved model.”
“I’d like a cup of coffee before I head back home. I might even be able to eat a ham and cheese sandwich,” Woodie said as he tossed the old sign into the backseat of his car.
“Mr. Dunwoodie, it will be my pleasure to offer you lunch.” Kristine offered up a snappy salute in the general direction of the sign as Woodie turned the car around in the middle of the road.
Things were definitely looking up.
“I think we should go out on the town and celebrate,” Woodie said.
“Six weeks of torture and you want to celebrate. No thanks. I have to admit, I think it’s going to be a little strange around here with you gone. The dogs are used to you. I guess I need to thank you for getting me the loan.” Kristine wondered why her voice was so stiff and defensive-sounding.
“You qualified for the loan. This house and acreage are great collateral. I’d like to come out to visit from time to time if that’s all right with you. You know, keeping tabs on the dogs and our business investment. The bank likes its officers to do things like that. It’s nothing personal.”
“To check on me?”
“Yes. Promise me that if you have the urge to drink, you’ll call me. AA has a chapter in town you can go to any time of the day or night.”
“I know, Woodie. Don’t worry about me. I’m sorry I put you through so much misery. It was such a bad time for me. My head’s on straight now. I have a few fences to mend, then I’ll get on with the business of living. Don’t be a stranger.”
“See you around.”
“Yeah. See you around,” Kristine said. “Hey, wait a minute.” She ran down the steps Woodie had repaired to wrap her arms around him. She kissed him soundly, her eyes widening in shock at the electricity running through her body. “Ah, I didn’t mean to do that. It was . . . you know, spur of the moment, serendipity, that kind of thing. Thanks, Woodie, for everything.”
A strange look on his face, the banker tried for a smile. “It was my pleasure. Call me if you have any problems.”
“I’ll do that.”
“Even with the dogs.”
“Okay.”
“Day or night.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“Bye, Kristine.”
“Bye, Woodie.”
“Kristine?”
Kristine whirled around. “Yes.”
“Georgia isn’t that far away. You could drive it in a day. Or you could fly. The weekend is coming up. I bet the kids would love to see you. If you don’t want to go to Georgia, mark your calendar to go see them when the fall semester starts.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“You could take a few more days and stop at that vet hospital in Atlanta. You said you wanted to look into taking some courses. It’s just a thought.”
“It’s a good thought, though. I’ll think about it.”
Kristine stood on the porch with both dogs in her arms until Woodie’s minibus was out of sight. She felt like crying and didn’t know why.
“I think Aaron Dunwoodie is going to be a good friend to us. I miss him already. And, what are you guys going to do when you find out he took all his shoes with him?”
Gracie stared up at her mistress with adoring eyes. Slick wiggled in the crook of her arm to get more comfortable.
“You know something. He is a nice man. A very nice man. I thought he was a stuffed shirt, you know, one of those nerds the kids always talk about. I liked him. The kids liked him. Kids, like you guys, are very good judges of character. I wish I had paid more attention to their opinions. C’mon, let’s go out to the barn and do some paperwork. You guys can play in the straw.”
The puppies were like greased lightning as they streaked through the house and out to the kitchen, where they waited patiently for Kristine to open the door.
“I miss him already,” she murmured.
PART II
Leesburg, Virginia 1991
6
“You’re sure now, Pete, that you can handle things while I’m gone. I’ll check in at least twice a day. I don’t foresee any problems, but you never know.”
The young vet grimaced. “I might be young, but I think I can handle things. And, I’ve been here working side by side with you for two years. Like you said, th
ere don’t appear to be any problems. Two days is not an eternity. Go to Georgia, be proud of your children, take them all out to a nice dinner and celebrate. If there’s any time left over, shower Woodie with affection. He’s in love with you. You do know that, don’t you, Kristine?”
“I don’t know any such thing, Pete. He’s a good friend. Do I need to remind you, I am still married. I would never be unfaithful to my husband. You also need to mind your own business.”
Two years of working side by side allowed Pete Calloway to speak openly. Normally, Kristine didn’t take offense, but today was different. He wished now he had kept quiet, but as long as his foot was in his mouth he might as well run with his thoughts. “You can only be unfaithful when you have a husband. You don’t seem to have one, Kristine. You haven’t had one for years. You’re too young to wither on the vine.”
Kristine forced a laugh. “What do you know about women withering on the vine? Never mind. I don’t want to know. For your information, I have a very full, active life. For me, it’s more than satisfactory. I work hard, I’m actually turning a profit, and I love the animals. Not to mention the fact that I am able to pay you a decent salary. I go out one night a week for dinner. I sleep well. I haven’t had a drink in three years. I’d say I’m doing okay. And before you can say it, I am not being testy. I am a little anxious. I haven’t seen the kids in over three years. By their choice, not mine. Talking to them isn’t the same as seeing them. They don’t like me, Pete, and I don’t think they are ever going to forgive me. I understand that, and, while I may not like it, I have to respect their feelings. When Logan didn’t come back, I couldn’t clutch at them. I tried, but they were smarter than me. They didn’t let it happen. I had to learn to stand on my own two feet. I’m getting there. I’ll be the proud mother tomorrow. I won’t weep or grope at them. They’re young adults now. I still can’t believe all three of them are graduating from the same school on the same day. The twins took a semester off to work full-time, but I think it was so they could graduate with Tyler. They certainly don’t get their brains from me. Woodie helped a lot. Georgia Tech was his alma mater. I think he privately and publicly donates handsomely to the school. He never said he did. It’s an assumption on my part. The kids like and respect him. He’s the one they call when they have a problem. They might be calling Sadie, too, but I’m not sure of that. What I am sure of is they only call me to let me know they’re alive and well.”
Celebration Page 10
