The Christmas Dog

by Melody Carlson

  But what about that poor dog? Perhaps she’d been cruel to leave him there with Jack. She hoped that Jack wasn’t cruel to the poor animal. And then she thought about her granddaughter and how upset she would be if any harm came to that dog. What had Betty been thinking?

  Betty looked at her watch again. She was surprised to see that an hour had passed with no sign of Avery. She finished the last sip of tea and wondered what she should do. The strip mall wasn’t so large that Betty couldn’t go look for Avery. But it was cold outside. And what if Betty went to the wrong place and Avery showed up at the coffee shop?

  “Everything okay?” the waitress asked with a concerned expression.

  “Yes. I just thought my granddaughter would be finished by now.”

  “Have you tried to call her?”

  Betty frowned. “No . . . but I’m sure she’ll be along any minute now.”

  “Yes, I’m sure she will.”

  But as soon as the waitress returned to the kitchen, Betty began to get worried. Really, what did she know about Avery? She hadn’t spent time with her in years. Betty knew that she’d run away from home. And she hadn’t even called her parents to say she was alive. Then she’d hitchhiked with a friend, gotten her things stolen, and eventually wound up on Betty’s doorstep. Not exactly the profile of a responsible young woman. And not exactly like the picture Betty had concocted for the waitress.

  For all Betty knew, Avery could be involved in something horrible. Something frightening like drugs. And hadn’t Betty just given Avery a handful of cash? What if Avery was long gone by now? What if she’d simply pocketed Betty’s money and run?

  Betty sighed. It wouldn’t be the money so much. But to think that Avery had tricked her, deceived her into believing that she wanted to help, when she was really taking advantage of her . . . Well, it wasn’t only disheartening; it made Betty feel sick. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, willing herself to relax, to let these worries go, and to put her trust in God. It was an old habit she’d adopted long ago—a way of dealing with life’s stresses.

  As she sat there with her eyes closed, she heard the familiar strain of Bing Crosby crooning, “I’ll be home for Christmas, you can count on me . . .” Funny how the old tunes from her era were becoming popular among young people again.

  She relaxed as she listened to the words, remembering how she and Chuck had been separated for one Christmas while he was serving in Korea. How many times had she listened to the song and cried? But then he’d come home, they’d gotten married, and she had never again expected to be separated from him during the holidays. Little had she known that they would have only a dozen Christmases to share. And then he’d be gone.

  The song ended, and Betty opened her eyes to discover that her cheeks were damp with tears. Embarrassed by this display of emotion, she quickly reached for the paper napkin and dabbed at her face. So silly, after all these years, to still be missing him like that.

  She sighed and looked outside. It was starting to get dusky, and she had told Avery she wanted to be home while it was still light since she didn’t see well after dark. She put out the money to pay for her tea and slowly stood.

  “No sign of your granddaughter yet?” The waitress frowned.

  Betty just shook her head and slowly walked toward the door. It felt as if someone had tied large rocks around her ankles. And she knew she was a very foolish old woman to have trusted Avery like that. At least she hadn’t given her the car keys. That was something to be thankful for.

  7

  “Grandma!” Avery called. She rushed toward the coffee shop with what looked like dozens of shopping bags hanging from her shoulders, arms, and hands.

  “Avery!” Betty couldn’t believe her eyes. “Where have you been?”

  “Shopping, of course.”

  “But you took so long.” Betty peered at her. “How did you manage to buy so much . . . stuff?”

  “Goodwill, the Dollar Store, and a craft shop around the corner.”

  “Oh?” Betty opened the trunk of her car, watching as Avery piled in her purchases.

  “Yeah. I found all sorts of cool things, Grandma. It’s going to be so awesome.”

  Betty blinked to see some magenta and lime-colored artificial flowers tumbling out of a large plastic bag. She couldn’t imagine what those bright blooms might be for—perhaps a Mexican fiesta. But they certainly weren’t appropriate for a dignified fiftieth anniversary party. Even so, she was so relieved to see Avery again, to know that she hadn’t run off and that she actually had been shopping—well, Betty didn’t even care what kind of frivolities Avery had wasted her money on. At least she was safe.

  Avery was very secretive about her purchases when they got home. She asked if she could keep the decorations in her room while she worked on them. Betty had no idea what that meant, but she was too tired to protest, so she agreed.

  “But don’t forget your promise,” Betty said. “To call your parents.”

  “Yeah.” Avery nodded as she went into her room. “I’ll do it.”

  “I’m going to begin fixing dinner. I have decided that I’ll do the cooking and you’ll be on cleanup. Does that sound fair?”

  Avery grinned. “Sure. I love your cooking, Grandma.”

  Betty smiled. Maybe Avery hadn’t changed that much after all. Still, it was a bit stressful having a young person suddenly thrust into your life. One didn’t know what to expect, how to react.

  Tonight Betty was making macaroni and cheese, but not the boxed kind that turned out orange and salty. Avery had talked her into getting some of the boxed kind at the store when she’d been visiting Betty one summer. One bite and Betty had decided that Avery needed to learn a better way. Avery had been cautious at first, complaining that Betty’s macaroni “looked funny,” but after she tasted it, she declared it to be the “bestest macaroni and cheese ever.” Betty made it with real cheese and butter and cream, and she always baked it in the oven, removing the foil for the last few minutes so the bread crumbs turned crispy and golden brown. Betty hadn’t made macaroni and cheese in ages, but her mouth was watering when she finally slid the heavy casserole dish into the oven.

  She looked at her messy kitchen, then smiled to herself. This was one of the benefits of having Avery here. Betty could cook what she liked, and her granddaughter would clean up the mess. Not a bad little setup.

  “Grandma,” Avery said from the living room. “Someone’s at the door. Want me to get it?”

  “I’m coming.” Betty untied her apron and went out to see who was there. It was nearly six now, and most respectable people would be having dinner.

  “Oh!” Avery said. She opened the front door wide enough for Betty to see Jack standing there, a somber expression on his face and a familiar-looking garbage bag in his hand. The dog stood at his feet, wagging his tail and looking into the house like he expected to be invited in for dinner.

  “What do you want?” Avery put her hands on her hips and scowled at Jack.

  Jack studied her for a moment, then turned toward Betty. “I don’t know what your game is, but I do not want a dog.”

  Avery stepped forward and stared up into Jack’s face. “Seems like you should’ve thought of that sooner.”

  “Huh?” He frowned. “Who are you anyway?”

  “This is my granddaughter, Avery,” Betty said. “Avery, I’d like you to meet my neighbor Jack.”

  “I know all about you, Jack,” Avery said. “I wanted to report you to the Humane Society, but Grandma wouldn’t let me.”

  “What?”

  Avery pointed down at the dog. “You’re a grown man.

  You should know better than to treat an animal the way you’ve treated him. He’s a sweet dog, and you have totally neglected and—”

  “You’re crazy,” he said. “This isn’t my dog.”

  “He was filthy and cold and half-starved and—”

  “And he’s not my dog,” Jack said. He looked over at Betty again. “I thought h
e was your dog. I saw him in your yard.”

  “And I saw him in your yard,” Betty said. “I assumed he belonged to you.”

  “Looks like we both assumed wrong.” Jack dropped the plastic bag in her house. “Here you go.”

  “What do you mean, ‘here you go’?” Betty said.

  “You got him this stuff.” Jack glared at her. “I guess that means he belongs to you.”

  “He does not belong to me.” Betty stepped closer, glaring back at him now.

  “Looks to me like he does. You got him the collar and leash and—”

  “But he is not my dog. I only got those things because I thought you were—”

  “So you admit that you purchased the dog paraphernalia?”

  “I felt sorry for the dog.”

  “And they say possession is nine-tenths of the law, right?”

  Betty didn’t know how to respond.

  He kicked the plastic bag with the toe of his boot. “So this is your dog bed, and that must mean this is your dog.”

  “But I don’t want a—”

  “I’d appreciate it if you’d quit dropping your dog off at my house.” He narrowed his eyes at Betty. “And if you do it again, I will report you to the Humane Society. Do you understand?”

  Betty was too angry to respond.

  “We understand,” Avery snapped, “that you are a selfish, mean man. And you don’t deserve a dog like this.” She reached down and picked up the mutt, holding him protectively in her arms. “He is lucky to escape you.”

  “You got that right!” Jack turned and slammed the door shut behind him.

  “What a beast!” Avery said.

  “Good riddance,” Betty said.

  “You poor thing,” Avery cooed to the dog. “I’ll bet you’re hungry.”

  Betty just stared at her granddaughter and the dog. She wanted to tell Avery in no uncertain terms that the dog was not welcome in her home. But Avery looked so happy and hopeful that Betty just couldn’t bring herself to say those words. Not yet anyway. Besides, there wasn’t much they could do about the situation tonight. The animal shelter would probably be closed by now. And Betty didn’t like to drive after dark anyway. She would deal with the dog tomorrow.

  “Don’t forget to call your parents,” Betty said as she headed back to the kitchen to make a salad.

  While Betty was in the kitchen, she overheard Avery talking on the phone. She could tell she was talking to her mother and that it wasn’t an easy conversation.

  “I want to stay here for Christmas,” Avery said. There was a long pause, and Betty imagined what Stephanie was probably saying to her daughter. So often she had used accusatory words, negativity, blame, and guilt to pressure her daughter into complying with her wishes. Betty had witnessed these awkward conversations before. But because Stephanie wasn’t her daughter and Betty had no actual blood relation to Avery, she had always kept her mouth shut. Still, it had troubled her. It seemed unhealthy. And sad.

  “I’m a grown-up,” Avery said. “And I can—” She was obviously cut off again. No surprises there. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Mother. Merry Christmas to you!” There was a loud bang as Avery slammed the receiver down. Good thing that old phone was tough.

  “My mother is a moron,” Avery said as she joined Betty in the kitchen. “Man, something smells really good in here.” She peeked in the oven. “Mac and cheese?”

  “Yes. I was hankering for some.”

  Avery smacked her lips. “All right.”

  “So . . . how are your parents?” Betty asked with hesitation.

  “I don’t know about Gary. But my mom is as messed up as ever.”

  “I’m sure they’ve been worried about you.”

  “My mom is more worried about how it looks to have a missing daughter.” Avery began to imitate her mother. “‘Oh dear, what will people think if Avery is still AWOL at Christmas? It will completely ruin our hallowed Christmas celebrations if Avery doesn’t show up looking like the perfect little princess daughter. Oh my, we must keep up appearances.’”

  Betty smiled. Avery actually did sound a lot like Stephanie. Not that Betty intended to say as much.

  “I gave the dog some food, Grandma. But he hasn’t even touched it. Do you think he’s okay?”

  “I have no idea. I’ve never had a dog before.”

  “Me neither. But he’s so sweet. If he really doesn’t belong to Jack, I think I’ll keep him.”

  As they set the table together, Betty wanted to point out how unrealistic Avery’s adopt-a-dog plan was, but she decided to hold her tongue for now. Of course, the dog would need to go to the animal shelter tomorrow. But Betty would see to that. In the meantime, it wouldn’t hurt to postpone that conversation. And Avery seemed so happy tonight, chatting cheerfully as they ate dinner. Betty felt there was no sense in hurrying up what would surely come as a disappointment later.

  While Avery was cleaning up the dinner things, the phone rang. Betty always had a tendency to jump when the phone rang. Maybe it was because she didn’t get that many calls in the evening. Or maybe it was just an old reaction from a time when a ringing phone could bring bad news. But she hurried to pick up the extension in the hallway, out of the noise of the kitchen.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Oh, Gary.” Betty smiled as she sat in the straight-backed chair. “It’s so nice to hear your voice.”

  “You too. I hear that Avery paid you a surprise visit.”

  “Yes, she’s here. And I’m thoroughly enjoying her.”

  “I’m sure she’s enjoying you too.” There was a pause, and Betty thought she could hear another voice in the background. “But, uh, Stephanie is not too happy.”

  “Oh?”

  “She really wants Avery home for Christmas.”

  “That’s what Avery said.”

  “And she wants me to tell you that you should send her home.”

  “I should send her home?” Betty blinked as she imagined packing her granddaughter in a large cardboard box and shipping her out to Atlanta on a UPS truck.

  “Naturally, we’ll pay for her airline ticket,” he said quickly. “But if you could just make Avery see that she needs to—”

  “I doubt that I can make Avery do anything she doesn’t want to do.”

  “Okay, Mom, make was not the right word. But I know that you could influence her. Avery would listen to you.”

  “Avery is an adult, Gary.”

  “An adult who can act very childish.”

  “Perhaps she acts childish because she is so often treated as a child.”

  There was a long pause. “You make a good point.”

  “Avery seems to want to stay here,” Betty said. “She has offered to help me with the Deerwoods’ fiftieth anniversary celebration.”

  “They’ve been married fifty years?”

  “Yes.” Betty wanted to point out that she and Gary’s father would’ve been beyond that milestone by now if Chuck was still alive. But she realized there was no reason to.

  “Tell them congratulations for me.”

  “I will. But, you see, Avery has helped me to get things. And she’s going to work on them and—”

  “Sorry, Mom,” he said quickly. “But Stephanie wants the phone. Do you mind talking to her?”

  “Not at all.” But Betty wasn’t the one to do the talking. When Stephanie got on the other end, she immediately began to rant and rave about how Avery needed to come home—right now. About how she’d been gone away too long. And about how it was wrong for Betty to keep her away from her family.

  “Excuse me,” Betty said. “I am not keeping Avery from anyone.”

  “You’re making it easier for her to avoid facing up to her responsibilities.”

  “Her responsibilities?”

  “To her family.”

  “What responsibilities does she have to her family?”

  “To be here with us. To be with our friends. It’s what we do every year. Avery knows that.”

&
nbsp; “But Avery is an adult,” she said for the second time. “She should be able to make up her own mind about—”

  “Avery has the mind of a child,” Stephanie snapped. “She proved that by running off and doing God only knows what with God only knows who.”

  “That may be. But she’s here with me now. She’s in no danger.”

  “And I suppose you can promise me that, Betty? You’re prepared to take personal responsibility for my daughter’s welfare?”

  “I’m only saying that she is just fine. And she’s welcome to stay with me for as long as—”

  “So you’re choosing her side. You’re taking a stand against me while you enable her.”

  Betty wasn’t exactly sure what enabling meant these days, but the way Stephanie slung the term, like it was an accusation, worried Betty. Why didn’t game shows like Jeopardy talk about words like this? Just the same, Betty decided to give it a try. “Wouldn’t enabling mean that I’m helping a person to do something . . . as in making them able?”

  Stephanie laughed so loudly that Betty’s ear rang, and she had to hold the receiver away. “Of course that’s what you’d think, Betty. But no, enabling is making it easy for a person to avoid what they really need to be doing. You enable them to fail.”

  “Oh.” Betty had no response to that.

  “But if you’re determined to position yourself between us and Avery”—Stephanie made a sniffling sound, although Betty did not think she was really crying—“then I suppose I can’t stop you.”

  “I’m not taking a position,” Betty said.

  “Oh yes you are.”

  “I’ve simply told Avery she can stay with me through the holidays if she wants to and—”

  “Fine. Have it your way. I hope you both have a very merry Christmas!” Of course, with the tone of her voice and the way she said this, she could’ve been using foul language and the meaning would not have been much different. And before Betty could respond, she heard the dull buzz of the dial tone in her ear.

  “Let me guess,” Avery said as she appeared in the hallway with a dish towel hanging limply in her hand. “My mom?”