“See, that’s just one more reason why it’s not time to sell right now, Mom. You need to resolve those issues first.”
“Maybe so.”
Then Susan changed the subject by talking about the grandsons. Seth was still on a church missions trip, where they were putting in wells and septic systems in Africa.
“He just loves what he’s doing there,” Susan said, “and he loves the people. In fact, he’s extended his stay until March now.”
“And what about Marcus?” Betty asked. “How’s school?”
“School is going fine. I think this is finals week. And, oh yeah, he has a girlfriend.”
“A girlfriend? Have you met her?”
“No. But it sounds like he may be going to her house for Christmas.”
“So you and Tim will be alone for Christmas?” Betty had booked her flight to Florida months ago, but now she considered changing the dates so that she could be with her daughter during the holidays too. Why hadn’t she thought of that sooner? Oh yes, she remembered—her commitment to help with the Deerwood anniversary party just days before Christmas.
“Not exactly alone . . .” Susan explained how Tim had put together a plan to share the expenses of a small yacht with some other couples while they toured the Florida Keys together during the holidays.
“That sounds like fun.” Betty frowned out the back window. Jack’s dog was in her backyard again!
“I wasn’t sure at first, but I’m getting excited now.”
“Well, I’m excited too,” Betty said in an angry voice. “That mongrel dog has sneaked into my backyard again!” The mutt was making a doggy deposit right next to her beloved dogwood tree! Did the mongrel think that because it was a dogwood tree, it was open season for dogs? “That horrible animal! I think I’ll take a broom to him.”
“Oh, Mom!” Susan sounded disappointed. “That’s so mean. You’ve never been mean like that before.”
“Are you suggesting it’s not mean for Jack to force me to clean up after his dog? To remove nasty dog piles from my own backyard?”
“That’s not the dog’s fault, Mom. You said yourself that the fence is falling apart. What do you expect?”
“I expect the owner to take some responsibility for his animal. Maybe I should go throw something at the nasty dog.”
“What happened to the sweet Christian woman I used to know?” Susan asked.
“Jack Jones is making her lose her mind.”
“Oh, Mother, you can do better than that. Remember what you used to tell me when I was young and I’d get so angry that I’d feel like killing someone?”
“What?” Betty felt a headache coming on.
“You’d say, ‘Why don’t you kill them with kindness, Susan?’”
Betty rubbed her forehead as she remembered her own words.
“So, why don’t you do that now, Mom? Why don’t you kill Jack Jones with kindness?”
“And his little dog too?”
“Yes. And his little dog too.”
Betty promised her daughter that she’d consider the challenge, and she was just about to say good-bye when Susan said quickly, “Hey, I almost forgot to tell you.”
“What’s that?”
“Have you heard from Gary lately?”
Suddenly Betty felt worried. She could tell by Susan’s voice that something was wrong. Surely no harm had come to her son. “No . . . I haven’t spoken to him since Thanksgiving. Is everything okay?”
“Well, I wasn’t supposed to say anything to you . . .”
“Anything about what?” Betty was really concerned now.
“It’s Avery.”
“Oh.” Avery was Gary’s stepdaughter. She was in her mid-twenties and still acted like an adolescent. “What’s happened with Avery?”
“She’s gone missing.”
“Missing?”
“Gary called awhile back and told me they haven’t heard from her since October.”
“October?” Betty considered this. “Gary didn’t mention this when he called me at Thanksgiving.”
“He probably didn’t want to worry you.”
“I see.”
“But they’re starting to get concerned. I mean, Avery’s been known to take off and do some irresponsible things before, but not for this long. And she usually checks in from time to time.”
“And she hasn’t checked in?”
“No.” Susan sighed. “Apparently Avery got into a big fight with Stephanie.”
Stephanie was Avery’s mom, Gary’s second wife. She was an intelligent woman and very beautiful, but her temper was a little volatile, and this sometimes worried Betty. “When was the fight?” Betty asked.
“Mid-October.”
“Naturally, Avery’s been missing since then?”
“Pretty much so.”
“Oh dear, that’s quite a while. I hope she’s okay.”
“I’m sure she’s fine. Avery probably just wants to teach her mom a lesson. Anyway, I’ve really been praying for her, and I thought you might want to also.”
“Yes, of course I’ll be praying for her.”
“And I’ll assume you’re praying for your neighbor too?” Susan’s voice sounded a tiny bit sarcastic now.
“I’m trying to pray for him,” Betty said. “But it’s not easy.”
“Well, I’ll start praying for him too, Mom. Keep me posted.”
“And you keep me posted on Avery.”
“Sure, just don’t let Gary know that I mentioned it. And in the meantime, remember what I told you.”
“What’s that?” Now Betty felt confused. They’d talked of so much—to sell or not to sell the house, Avery’s disappearance.
“You know, take your own advice—kill him with kindness.”
Betty looked out at her backyard only to see that the stupid dog was now digging in her favorite tulip bed. “I’ll kill him, all right,” she snapped.
“Mom!”
“Yes, yes, like you said, with kindness. I have to go now, dear.” But after she hung up and went outside, Betty did not have kindness in her heart. And when she saw that someone—and it could only be Jack—had hammered a board over the opening in the fence, on his side of the fence, she felt outraged. Had he allowed his dog to pass through and then sealed off the doggy escape route? What was wrong with that man?
She marched out to the woodshed and got an old ax. The dog followed her, watching as she took the ax to the fence and chopped an even bigger hole. Fortunately, the fence was so rotten that it wasn’t much of a challenge. The challenge came with getting the dumb dog to pass back through the hole onto his own side of the fence. She went back to the house and utilized another piece of lunch meat to entice the mutt into Jack’s yard. Once he was there, she shoved several pieces of firewood in the hole to block the new opening of the fence.
She let out a tired sigh as she looked across the sagging and now somewhat ravaged-looking fence. The dog just sat there in the yard and looked at her with those sad brown eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Dogs don’t get to pick their masters, just like I don’t get to pick my neighbors. We both need to make the best of it.”
But as she walked away, she felt guilty on several levels. And the expression on the poor mutt’s face seemed to be imprinted in her mind. When had she become so mean?
4
Betty finally had to pull the drapes on the windows that faced her backyard because she could still see the dog sitting out there in the bitter cold just staring toward her house in the most pitiful way. She picked up the phone and considered calling information for the number of the Humane Society. Why shouldn’t she turn Jack Jones in for dog neglect? He deserved it. But then she remembered her daughter’s words. And so she replaced the phone and decided to go to the grocery store instead.
With Susan’s challenge running through her mind, Betty decided she would give this her best attempt. She would do all she could to “kill Jack and his dog with kindness.” And, although
she normally lived on a fairly frugal grocery budget, today she would throw caution to the wind. So, along with her normal groceries, Betty also gathered up the ingredients for cookies and fudge. After that she stopped in the pet aisle, where she added to her shopping cart a red nylon collar and matching leash, some dog shampoo, a couple of cans of dog food, and even a red and green plaid bed.
“Looks like somebody is getting a dog for Christmas.” The cashier winked at her as he bagged up her purchases.
“Looks that way, doesn’t it?”
“Or maybe the family pooch is getting something from Santa?” he asked.
She just gave him a stiff smile and paid in cash from her envelope. This was a habit she’d developed years ago when the children still lived at home. But today’s shopping had used up the remainder of her December grocery budget. The month was only half over, and she usually went shopping once a week. But perhaps it would be worth it. Perhaps this was how she would buy peace. And, if the kindness plan didn’t work, she would simply sell her house, and she might even toss budgeting out the window. Maybe she’d do like Susan—board a boat and just sail away into the sunset. Why not?
But as Betty loaded her unusual purchases into her car, trying to ignore the J-shaped gash on the front right fender, she felt rather foolish. What on earth was she doing with this doggy paraphernalia anyway? As she closed her trunk, she feared she might be getting senile. Or maybe she had simply lost her mind. Had Jack Jones driven her mad?
To distract herself from Jack, she focused her attention on praying for Avery. Although they weren’t related by blood, Avery had started calling Betty “Grandma” shortly after her mother married Betty’s son Gary a dozen years ago. And Betty had adopted Avery into her heart as a granddaughter.
Betty remembered the first time she’d met the quiet, preadolescent girl. It had been shortly before the wedding, and Betty had suspected that Avery wasn’t too pleased with her mother’s marriage. But during the reception, Betty and Avery seemed to bond, which was a good thing since Betty was to keep Avery while Gary and Stephanie honeymooned in the Caribbean. Naturally, Avery had been reluctant to be away from her friends, and Betty had been a bit apprehensive about caring for a girl she barely knew, but by the end of the two weeks, they’d become fast friends. Avery had even cried when it was time to go home.
Over the following few years, Avery usually spent at least two weeks of her summer vacation at Betty’s home. And sometimes spring break as well. But everything seemed to change when Avery turned sixteen. That was when, according to Betty’s son, Avery became a “wild child.” And Gary worried that his stepdaughter’s strong will would be too much for his aging mother. Just the same, Betty missed those visits, and over the years she continued to send Avery cards and gifts, and occasionally money, for birthdays, holidays, and graduation. Betty seldom got a thank-you in return, but she figured young people weren’t trained in the social graces very much these days.
As Betty pulled into her driveway, then carefully parked her car in the garage again, her thoughts returned to Jack Jones. Suddenly she wondered just how she planned to present her eccentric “gifts” to her neighbor. More than that, she wondered how he would receive them. Besides being rude and inconsiderate and painfully private, Jack Jones struck her as being an extremely proud young man, and stubborn too. For all she knew, he might throw her silly purchases right back in her face. Really, it was a crazy idea—what had she been thinking? Perhaps the best plan would be to simply forget the whole thing and take the items back tomorrow. Even if the store refused to refund her money, they could probably give her a credit. And so she carried her groceries into the house but left the doggy items in her car to be returned later.
Still feeling a bit silly, she stowed her groceries away—all except for the baking ingredients, which she lined up on the counter by the stove, just like she used to do before a full day of holiday baking. Then she stood there staring at the bags of chocolate chips, nuts, dried fruits, and powdered and brown sugar, and finally just shook her head. Had she lost her mind?
Did she really plan on making Christmas goodies to give to her neighbors—people she barely knew? And to share her homemade treats with the likes of Jack Jones? Was that even sensible? What if she were setting herself up for trouble? What if Jack Jones was a dangerous man? A criminal? It was one thing to love her neighbor, but what if her neighbor was a murderer, or a pedophile, or a sociopath? Should she take cookies to a man like that?
With a little more than a week still left until Christmas, she decided to think about these things later. Right now she was too tired to think clearly, let alone bake cookies.
Betty awoke to the sound of something knocking on the front door. She blinked and slowly pushed herself out of her recliner, thinking it must be that mongrel dog again. Why wouldn’t he just leave her alone? Didn’t he know where he lived? She groaned as she made her way through the living room. Her arthritis was acting up, probably as a result of this cold, damp weather.
But when she looked through the peephole, not expecting to see anyone, she saw what appeared to be an attractive, dark-haired young woman. A scarlet-red scarf was wound so high up her neck that it concealed the lower half of her face, so it was hard to tell who it was. Feeling slightly befuddled and not completely awake, Betty just stared at the person, thinking to herself that those dark brown eyes looked oddly familiar.
“Avery!” Betty fumbled with the deadbolt and opened the door so she could unlock and open the screen door. “Avery!” she cried again as she embraced the girl in a warm hug and pulled her into the house. “I almost didn’t recognize you. It’s been so long.”
As Betty closed the front door and relocked the deadbolt, Avery began to unwind the scarf from around her neck. “Hi, Grandma,” she said in a tired voice. “Sorry to bust in on you like this, but I was, uh, in the neighborhood . . .”
“I’m glad you came! I’m so happy to see you.” Betty took the girl’s slightly damp parka and hung it on the hall tree to dry out, along with the snagged-up scarf that appeared to be nearly six feet long. “How are you?”
“Oh, I’m okay . . . I guess.” Avery pushed some loose strands of dark hair away from her face. The rest of her hair was pulled back into a long and messy ponytail. Her skin seemed pale, there were dark smudges under her eyes, and without her parka, she seemed very thin and waiflike.
“Come in and sit down and get warm.” Betty motioned Avery toward the living room.
“Wow, everything looks just the same, Grandma.” Avery looked around the room with hungry eyes. “Nothing has changed.”
Betty laughed. “I guess that’s how it is when we get old. We’re comforted by keeping things the same.”
“I’m comforted too.” Avery sat on the couch and picked up a pillow with a crocheted covering that Betty’s mother had made for her years ago. Avery just stared at the pattern of colors—roses, lilacs, and periwinkle. “I always loved this pillow, Grandma.”
Betty smiled. “I’ll make sure to leave it to you in my will.”
Now Avery looked sad as she set the pillow aside. “Don’t say that. I’d hate to think of you dying. I don’t want the pillow that bad.”
“Don’t worry, I don’t plan on going anytime soon.”
Avery nodded. “Good.”
“So, what brings you into my neck of the woods?”
Avery sighed. “I don’t know . . .”
Betty considered the situation. She didn’t want to press too hard, didn’t want to make Avery so uncomfortable that she’d be tempted to run off again. Better just to keep things light. “Say, are you hungry?”
Avery looked up with eager eyes. “Yes! I’m starving.”
“Well, I just went to the grocery store today. And I haven’t had lunch yet either. Why don’t we see what we can find?”
Before long, Betty had grilled cheese sandwiches cooking on one burner, and Avery was stirring cream of tomato soup on another.
“This feels good,” Ave
ry said.
“Cooking?”
“Yes. Being in a real kitchen, smelling food . . . it feels kinda homey.”
Betty had noticed how grimy Avery’s hands and nails looked. Like she hadn’t bathed in days, maybe even weeks. “Well, everything’s about ready,” she told her. “Maybe you’d like to go wash up before we eat.”
Avery nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.”
Soon they were both sitting at the kitchen table, and, as usual, Betty bowed her head to say grace.
“Just like always,” Avery said after Betty finished. “You still thank God every time you eat?”
“I try to.”
“That’s nice.” Avery smiled and took a big bite of her sandwich, then another, and then, in no time, her sandwich was gone and she was shoveling down her soup.
“I’ll bet you could eat another sandwich,” Betty said.
“Do you mind?”
“Not at all.” Betty got up to fix another.
“Grandma?”
“Yes?” Betty paused from slicing the cheese.
“Why is it so dark in here? Why are the curtains all shut?”
“Oh.” Betty frowned. “It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time.”
So, as Betty grilled the second sandwich, she began to explain about her unpredictable and somewhat thoughtless neighbor. She tried not to paint too horrible a picture of him. After all, she didn’t want to frighten Avery. But she did want her to understand that the man was a bit of a loose cannon. “And now that he’s got this crazy dog, well, it’s getting to be even more complicated.”
“What kind of a dog?”
“Who knows? A mutt.”
Avery laughed. “Oh.”
Betty reached over to open the drapes that had been blocking the view of the backyard. But to her pleasant surprise, the dog was not anywhere in sight. “Hopefully, Jack has enough sense to put his dog inside,” she said. “Because it looks like it’s about to rain again. And as cold as it is out there, I expect it might turn into a freezing rain by tonight.”
The Christmas Dog Page 3
