The Christmas Dog

by Melody Carlson

  Betty set aside the hopelessly tangled lights and frowned out the front window. Had she been foolish to allow her granddaughter to go to that man’s house? She got up and hurried to the kitchen, nervously staring at Jack’s mess of a house as if she thought she could help Avery should trouble erupt. Just then the phone rang, and she was forced to turn away from the window.

  She’d barely said hello when the female voice on the other end demanded to know if Avery was there.

  “Hello, Stephanie,” Betty said cheerfully, hoping she could warm up her daughter-in-law. “How are you doing, dear?”

  “How do you think I’m doing when my only daughter refuses to come home for Christmas?”

  “I really don’t see why that should be such an—”

  “That’s just it. You really don’t see, do you, Betty?”

  “Avery is a grown woman, Stephanie. Shouldn’t she be allowed to make her own choices about where—”

  “Talk to your son,” Stephanie snapped.

  And then Gary was on the line. “Hi, Mom,” he said.

  “Hello, Gary.”

  “Stephanie wants me to persuade you to send Avery home.”

  “Is that what you want too?”

  “I suppose.” His voice sounded flat.

  “But why? I don’t understand why it’s so important.”

  He didn’t answer right away, and when he did, his voice was quiet. “Stephanie’s mom is coming for Christmas. And, as you know, Evelyn is, uh, well, rather jealous.”

  “Oh?” Betty was well aware that Evelyn had often resented Betty’s relationship with Avery in the past. But that was when Avery had been a little girl, a long time ago.

  “I know it probably sounds silly to you.”

  “I just don’t really understand.”

  “Well, Evelyn wants us to help her with her will. And Stephanie is worried that if Avery isn’t here, and if Evelyn figures out that she’s with you . . . well, Stephanie feels this could present a problem.”

  Betty was speechless. Did they plan to use Avery as some sort of bargaining chip, a form of insurance to assure them they would be properly compensated for in Evelyn’s will? This just seemed so ridiculous.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Mom.”

  “Really?”

  “I can guess.”

  “Well, I must admit that I’m a bit surprised.”

  “Anyway, I’m not telling you what to do.” His voice was gentle now. More like the old Gary. “I’m just telling you how it is here. Frankly, I’m glad that Avery is with you. I think you’re a wholesome influence in her life.”

  “Well, thank you.”

  “I just wanted you to know that Steph is very determined.”

  “I see.”

  “So if Avery could give her a call, just talk things through, I’d appreciate it.”

  “I’ll tell Avery.”

  “And I apologize for how Steph just spoke to you. All I can say is that she’s very upset. And she’s been hurt deeply by Avery’s little disappearing act.”

  “I’m sure it’s been difficult for her.”

  “But I realize Avery is an adult. At least according to her birth date.”

  “If it’s any encouragement, Avery is acting very much like an adult.” Betty described how Avery had taken full responsibility for the anniversary preparations and how she’d put up “found dog” posters. “And this morning she even got me to help in decorating the house for Christmas. I’d been feeling a bit like Scrooge. But she’s so enthusiastic that I finally gave in. And she’s actually quite clever.” Betty rambled on until Gary said he needed to go.

  “I’ll tell Avery to call her mother,” Betty said. Then she hung up and looked out across the backyard toward Jack’s house. It was dusky now, and suddenly Betty felt concerned. How long had Avery been gone? Shouldn’t she be back by now? Betty could see light coming from what had once been the dining room window. But there was something like a sheet draped over it, so she couldn’t see inside.

  Betty began pacing in the kitchen. Should she go and check on the girl? Or would that seem like interfering? Would it send the message that Avery wasn’t mature? That she wasn’t capable of taking care of herself?

  Betty looked up at the clock. It was about four forty now. Perhaps she should wait until five. But what might happen in twenty minutes? And then, if something really was wrong, wouldn’t it be foolish for Betty to go over there? Wouldn’t it be better to call the police? But if she called the police, what would she say to them? That her grown granddaughter had been at the neighbor’s house for more than thirty minutes? They’d probably just laugh or write her off as crazy.

  She considered calling the Gilmores, but what would she say to them? Katie was already fearful about Jack. Why alarm them further? Or maybe Katie and the girls had fled to her mother’s by now. In that case, what would Betty say to poor Martin? He’d already endured several confrontations with their contrary neighbor. Why would he want to have another?

  Betty continued to pace, staring out the window and trying to replace her worry with prayer. But her prayers sounded feeble. “Protect Avery,” she said again and again.

  Finally, it was nearly five o’clock, and she could stand it no longer. She went for her coat and took off to discover what was wrong. If all else failed, she might be able to scream loudly enough to disturb a neighbor. But Betty had barely rounded the corner when she spied Avery and the dog strolling her way.

  “What happened?” Betty said. “Are you okay?”

  “Sure.” Avery smiled.

  “But you were gone so long.” Betty realized that her hands were shaking. Perhaps it was from the cold, but she thought otherwise.

  “You were right, Grandma.”

  “Right?”

  “Jack seemed to appreciate the cookies.”

  “Really?” Betty wasn’t sure how to respond. She should be happy about that, but instead she felt suspicious.

  “And we had a nice talk.”

  “Is that so?” Betty imagined Jack’s dark countenance as he eyed her granddaughter. Sizing her up, making his plans for evil. Avery was a beautiful young woman. And vulnerable too. What if Jack were a rapist, a serial killer, or both? Oh, why had Betty been such a fool as to let her go over there by herself?

  “He’s lonely, Grandma.”

  “Is that what he told you?”

  “Yes, and—”

  “I don’t want you going over there by yourself again,” Betty said quickly. “I’m afraid he could be dangerous and—”

  “He’s not dangerous.” Avery laughed.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Oh, Grandma, you’re just being paranoid. Jack told me about the misunderstandings you’ve had and how he’s tried to talk sense into you, but how you just won’t listen, and now the whole neighborhood has turned against him.”

  “And you believe him?” Betty stopped walking and turned to peer at Avery. Her face was illuminated by the streetlight, and she looked confused.

  “Why shouldn’t I believe him?”

  “Because he’s not trustworthy, Avery.”

  “But you’re the one who said to be kind to him. And I think that’s just what he needed.”

  Betty was too flustered to respond. So they both walked back to the house with only the clicking of the dog’s toenails on the sidewalk to break the silence.

  Why hadn’t Betty seen the danger in this situation? Why had she allowed Avery to walk right into what could have easily been a trap? Wasn’t that how criminals worked? They earned the victim’s trust, and then they went to work. What would Avery’s mother think if she knew?

  “Your mother called,” Betty said as they went into the house.

  “So?”

  “She wants you to call her back.” Betty removed her jacket.

  “She said it’s urgent.”

  “Big surprise there.”

  “But you’ll call her, won’t you?”

  “I guess.”

/>   “I promised that you would.”

  Avery groaned. “I wish she’d just leave me alone.”

  “I’m going to start dinner,” Betty said. She headed for the kitchen, but once she got there, she just stood and looked out the window toward Jack’s house. As she looked, it appeared more frightening and sinister than ever. And so she prayed again. Only this time she prayed that somehow Stephanie would convince her daughter to come home for Christmas. And, as much as Betty would miss the girl, she felt certain that Avery would be safer there than here.

  Because they’d had a good-sized lunch, with a snack of Christmas cookies and tea in midafternoon, Betty decided to fix oatmeal for dinner. This with whole wheat toast and home-canned peaches should be sufficient for both of them. She was just taking the oatmeal off the stove when Avery appeared.

  “My mother is losing her mind.” Avery sat down at the kitchen table, which Betty had already set for their simple meal.

  “How so?” Betty avoided Avery’s eyes as she spooned the hot cereal into the bowls.

  “She says Grandma Evelyn is dying.”

  “Is she?”

  “I seriously don’t think so.”

  Betty sat down, bowed her head, and asked the blessing. Then she looked at Avery. “So why does your mother think Evelyn is dying?”

  “Because she’s old.”

  Betty nodded. “But what if your mother is right?”

  Avery just shrugged and stuck her spoon into the brown sugar, dumping two heaping spoonfuls onto her oatmeal.

  “Would you feel bad if you didn’t get to see your grandmother . . . if she were to die?”

  “I guess.”

  Betty felt a stab of guilt. She knew she was being somewhat insincere with her granddaughter. But she was doing it for Avery’s own good. She wanted Avery out of harm’s way. More specifically, out of Jack’s way.

  “I still regret not making one last trip out to see my own mother,” Betty said slowly. “I knew she’d been having some health problems, but I just didn’t believe it was terribly serious. I considered going out to visit in June. But then I changed my mind. I don’t even recall why exactly. The next thing I knew, she was gone. I never got another chance.”

  Avery nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you, dear.”

  “But that was your mother. Not your grandmother.”

  “That’s true.”

  “And I assume you had a good relationship with her?”

  “Yes, very good.”

  “Well, it’s not like that with me and my grandmother.”

  “Perhaps that’s an even better reason to spend time with her.”

  “So that she can torture me?”

  Betty didn’t know what to say.

  “Grandma Evelyn and my mom will probably gang up on me, Grandma. They’ll get on my case for taking off. They’ll lecture me about going back to school. They’ll remind me that I’m a failure, and then they’ll rub my nose in it.” Avery seemed on the verge of tears now. She set down her spoon with a clank. “And I just can’t take that—that’s not a happy way to spend Christmas.” She scooted her chair back and ran out of the kitchen, slamming her bedroom door behind her.

  Betty felt like a villain. And her few bites of oatmeal now sat like hard little stones in her stomach. She just sat there with her hands laid flat on the kitchen table and wondered how she had managed to make such a mess of things. How was it possible to hurt someone so deeply when you only wished to help them?

  Betty realized she was crying for the second time in one week. The tears surprised her. She was a woman who usually kept her emotions in check. But what surprised her even more was the feeling of something warm pressing against her leg. She looked down to see the dog sitting right next to her, looking up at her with the most compassionate brown eyes she’d ever seen.

  Reaching down, she stroked his smooth head. “You really are a good dog, aren’t you?” She stood slowly. “But there is someone else who needs you more than I do right now. Come on, boy.” He obediently followed as she walked to Avery’s room and quietly opened the door. Betty let him into the darkened room, where the quiet sobs of a hurting girl cut through her like a knife. She knew the animal’s presence would just be a Band-Aid—a temporary solution to a problem that was much bigger than a little brown dog. But at the moment, it was all Betty had to offer.

  10

  Avery’s mother called again the next morning. Betty tried not to eavesdrop as she took over the chore of cleaning up the breakfast things, but she could tell that Avery was trying to be reasonable. She could hear the strained patience in Avery’s voice. She had to give the girl credit—she was trying.

  “I’ll call you tonight,” Avery promised. “Yes, Mom, I love you too.”

  Betty was just putting the last dish in the dishwasher when Avery came back to the kitchen. “Hey, Grandma, you weren’t supposed to clean up.”

  “It’s all right.” Betty smiled as she gave the speckled Formica countertop one last swipe with the sponge. “I didn’t mind.”

  “I told my mom that I’d make a decision by tonight.”

  Betty just nodded.

  Avery looked at her hopefully. “What do you want me to do, Grandma?”

  “I want you to do what’s best for you.”

  “But you think I need to be with my family?”

  Betty pressed her lips together tightly.

  “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

  “I think it’s a decision you need to make, Avery.”

  “Well, I’m not going to think about it today.” Avery brightened. “Today I’m going to go decorate the church basement for the Deerwood party.”

  Betty blinked in surprise. “Goodness, I’d nearly forgotten that today’s Friday.”

  “And tomorrow’s the big event,” Avery said. “The church secretary told me that I could come anytime after eleven today to get everything all set up for tomorrow.”

  Betty tried not to look too concerned. But she was feeling more than a little worried that she’d still not seen what Avery had been secretly preparing in her room. “Do I get to have a sneak peek?” she asked.

  “Nope.”

  Betty frowned.

  “Don’t you trust me?”

  “Yes, you know I do, Avery.”

  “Do you trust me to drive your car today?”

  Suddenly, Betty wasn’t so sure.

  “I’m a good driver.”

  “I’m sure you are.”

  “And I need to load and unload everything without you seeing it,” Avery continued, “or else that’ll spoil the surprise. So you’ll have to let me use your car, Grandma.”

  Just then the dog barked from outside. “You’d better let him in,” Betty said, “before he wanders off.”

  Avery went to open the door, then came back and asked again to use the car.

  “Well, I suppose I don’t have much of a choice,” Betty finally said.

  “No, I suppose you don’t.” Avery grinned. “You won’t be sorry.”

  Betty wanted to say, “I hope not,” but she knew that would sound rather pessimistic. And so she just smiled and tried not to think about lime- or magenta-colored flowers. She tried not to imagine piñatas or pirates or multicolored balloons. No, she trusted Avery with this. Her granddaughter would not let her down.

  “I still have some things to get ready,” Avery said.

  “And I have a hair appointment at nine,” Betty suddenly remembered. She had booked the appointment a month ago. Going to the beauty parlor was a luxury that Betty budgeted for only twice a year. One time before Christmas and again before Easter. The rest of the time, Betty tended to her own hair. Whether it was cutting or curling it, she’d become rather adept at it over the years. Still, it always looked nicer when it was done professionally.

  For nearly two blissful hours, Betty sat and listened to the hairdresser talk about everything and nothing while she worked on Betty’s hair. Betty welcomed this break f
rom thinking about runaway dogs, mixed-up granddaughters, frightening neighbors, angry daughters-in-law, and circus-like anniversary parties. And when she left the salon, she told herself that somehow everything was going to be okay. She could just feel it.

  But when she got home, she found a flustered and unhappy Avery. “It’s after eleven,” Avery said. “And I need to get the stuff to the church.”

  “I know, but you can use as much time as you like to do your decor—”

  “And Ralph is gone again. I checked at Jack’s, but his pickup is gone too.”

  “Now, don’t worry,” Betty said. “You just go ahead and pack your things up in the car and head on over to the church. I’ll find the dog, and everything will be just fine when you get back.”

  Avery seemed somewhat relieved, and then she smiled. “Hey, your hair looks pretty, Grandma.”

  Betty patted her hair. “Why, thank you.”

  “So, do you mind waiting in the living room while I get things loaded into the car? So that you don’t see anything?”

  “I’ll just go and put my feet up.”

  “Thanks. It should only take about fifteen minutes.”

  “That’s fine.”

  “And then you’ll go and look for Ralph?”

  Betty nodded. “I will do my best to find him.”

  By the time Betty heard Avery backing out of the driveway, it was close to noon. And despite being on the verge of a nap, Betty forced herself up, put on her jacket and gloves, got the dog leash, and headed out to search for the dog. She called up and down the street but didn’t see the dog anywhere. And Avery was right, Jack’s pickup was gone.

  Betty stood on the street, looking at Jack’s house and wondering if he might’ve possibly kidnapped the dog and then dumped him somewhere. Perhaps he’d been irked at the dog for wandering into his yard and relieving himself on the grass.