by A. E. Wasp
“Nice.” Dmitri walked to the cabinet and opened the door, inspecting the catch. “What did you do?”
“I just glued the magnet back. It was in the same drawer as the glue.”
Dmitri was pressed up against Troy and Troy rubbed his shoulder with his strong hand, thumb digging into the tight muscle there. Dmitri groaned his appreciation.
Troy chuckled. “If I’d known you were so impressed by glue, I would have whipped it out sooner.”
Dmitri tilted his head back into the caress of Troy’s hand. “You can whip it out whenever you want.”
The caress turned to a light smack on the back of Dmitri’s head. “Let’s hit the road. It’s getting late, and I want to stop at the store.”
Dmitri whined in protest as Troy stepped away from him.
“It’s for your own good.” Troy picked up a shrunken bag of marshmallows and smacked it against the counter; they hit with a loud thunk. “I think we need new snacks.”
“I’m no marshmallow expert, but I’m going to have to agree with you. We’ll stop at the store quick on the way out.”
Troy grabbed Dmitri’s duffel bag, leaving Dmitri clutching the pillows and a bag of stale marshmallows. “Let’s go get some mud on the tires.”
Moby raced ahead, beating them both to the truck. Troy folded the seat forward so she could jump into the small second-row bench, Dmitri climbed into the passenger’s seat, and they were off.
chapter twelve
To Dmitri’s surprise, Troy headed south out of town. He would have thought they’d head north and west, up the canyon. Instead, they cruised the west edge of town, the foothills rising to their right. They passed small farms and open fields dotted with the occasional McMansion. Moby sat in the small half backseat, tongue lolling out, and her head reaching over Dmitri’s shoulder as she tried to stick her nose out the window. Dmitri patted her. Poor Moby. He had been neglecting her lately. Their daily trips to the dog park had diminished to weekly if she was lucky. He silently promised he’d get them both out of the house more often.
Troy took a right onto a smaller side road that Dmitri was surprised to find he recognized.
“We’re going to go right past my parent’s place,” he said.
“Yeah? Want to stop and say hi?”
Did he? He was surprised to find that, actually, he did. With those memories of family gatherings in his head, he’d realized he missed them. “Why not. They’re probably home.”
His parents’ house in Lyons still showed signs of the flood that had almost wiped their town off the map a couple of years ago. Tarps still covered one side of the small house, and the foundation was exposed on the side closest to the river. Dmitri told Troy he had tried to get them to move, but they loved the small town and the constant rush of the river outside their windows.
Troy couldn’t blame them. He felt more at peace just standing by the river. Tall pine trees shaded the banks, flowers overflowed the planters and hanging pots Dmitri’s parents had hung from the rafters, and vines crawled over the pile of wood that was the house’s only source of heat.
“Mom?” Dmitri called as he walked up to the door.
Moby barked a greeting that was returned by a much smaller sounding dog from inside the house. Dmitri pushed the door open, going in. Troy hung back, watching from the doorway.
“Mom? Dad?”
A tiny white mop of a dog yipped its way to the door, dancing around Moby’s legs in an ecstatic frenzy. “Zippy, where’s mom?” Dmitri asked the dog. In response, Zippy peed on the floor. “Good answer.” Dmitri pointed at the puddle as Troy came in. “Watch that.” He stepped over and went further into the house.
Not that there was much further to go. There was a kitchen and a living room and some stairs leading to a second floor where Troy assumed the bedrooms were. They passed through the kitchen and out the backdoor, Zippy and Moby trailing at their heels.
A small greenhouse and potting shed with faded Tibetan prayer flags draped across the front, and dream catchers hanging from the eaves was tucked under some trees. From the open door, Troy heard the thumping beat of rock and roll. The air smelled of rich soil and a mixture of plants. Zippy and Moby dashed into the shed. “Moby!” a woman called from the darkness. “Is your daddy here?”
“I’m here, mom,” Dmitri replied.
A woman, presumably Mrs. Wellington, came out of the shed and kissed Dmitri hello.
She wore faded jeans, tan hiking boots and a faded ‘No Nukes’ t-shirt under a plaid flannel overshirt. Her blond hair hung down her back in a braid. Laugh lines framed blue eyes exactly like Dmitri’s and bracketed her mouth when she smiled. She pulled off her work gloves.
“What a lovely surprise! What brings you out here?” She blatantly checked Troy out, eyeing him from tip to toe. “Are you a friend of Tree’s?”
Troy held his cap in his hands as he answered her. “Well, I can’t say as I have anything particularly against them, but I’m not sure I would call myself a friend.”
Dmitri groaned as his mother laughed. Troy looked between them, waiting to be let in on the joke.
“It’s the family nickname for me. My sister called me Tree when she was a baby, and it stuck.”
Troy chuckled, “Well, in that case, Ma’am, I am a friend of Tree’s.”
“Glad to hear it. And you got him out of the house! I’m shocked.” She called into the shed. “Gil, get out here! We have company.”
A handsome older man came out of the shed, shaking the dirt from his hands.
Both of Dmitri’s parents were older than Troy had expected, youthful, but probably in their early sixties. He realized he didn’t know how old Dmitri was. In fact, they barely knew anything about each other, outside of one long conversation in a coffee shop. Had that been just yesterday? It felt like he’d known Dmitri for much longer than that.
Dmitri kissed his father hello, getting a one-armed hug and a smile in return. “This is my friend, Troy. Troy, these are my parents, Gil and Annie.”
“Ma’am. Sir.” Troy tilted his head and held out his hand. Both parents had nice firm grips.
“So, what brings you up here?” Gil asked, echoing his wife.
“We’re going camping,” Troy answered. “Since we were passing this way, Dmitri said we should stop by.”
Annie narrowed her eyes at Troy. “Dmitri camping? And stopping by to see us? What have you done with my son?”
“Mom,” Dmitri said warningly.
She smacked him on the arm with surprising strength.
“Ow. That’s abuse. I’m telling.” Dmitri rubbed his arm theatrically.
“Hold on; I’ll get the authorities on the phone. But first how about a drink? Can you boys stay for a bit?”
Dmitri turned to Troy. Troy did a quick calculation of time and distance and his lack of knowledge of the area. The days were long this time of year, and despite their slow start, they still had seven hours to burn. “Sure. We can sit a spell.”
“Where are you from?” Annie asked as he followed her to the house. The dogs had taken off down to the river.
“My people are from West Virginia, ma’am. Near Clarksburg.”
“Never been to West Virginia. I imagine it’s quite different than this part of Colorado.” Annie brushed against a rocking chair, starting it rocking.
Troy stopped it with a hand on its back as he passed. “Yes, ma’am. Lower mountains, more trees.”
“Please, call me Annie.”
“I don’t think I can do that. How about Miss Annie?”
“I like it. Makes me feel like a real Southern lady. Tree, tell all your friends to call me that from now on.”
Dmitri pulled down some glasses from a cabinet. “I’ll get right on it. Put it on Facebook.”
“Troy has better manners than you,” his mother said. “I’m trading you in.”
Barking dogs and the sound of tires crunching over gravel heralded another visitor.
“It’s like Grand Central Statio
n around here today,” Gil remarked. “We should fire up the grill. Can you guys stay for lunch?”
“I’d love to, Mr. Wellington, but I’d prefer to set up camp before it gets dark. I’m not familiar with the area yet.”
“Call me Gil. Just Gil. Miss Gil was my mother.” Gil still had a thick head of curls just a bit darker blond than Dmitri’s, broad shoulders, and a flat stomach. Like his wife, his smile also reached his eyes, and he looked relaxed and strong where he leaned against the counter. Troy couldn’t help but think that if Dmitri aged as well as his father, he’d be lucky. “So where are you headed?” Gil asked, interrupting Troy’s bordering on inappropriate thoughts.
Moby and Zippy ran into the kitchen, claws skittering on the linoleum. An older golden retriever, white showing on her muzzle, followed more sedately into the room. A big man in jeans, hiking boots, and a gray t-shirt followed her. His dark hair was cut almost military close to his head, and he had kind brown eyes in a tanned and weather-beaten face. Tall and broad, he looked to be in his mid-forties, Troy guessed.
“Hey, Gil, Annie.” The man tipped his baseball cap. The dog walked slowly to his side and sat down, tongue hanging out of her mouth.
Troy couldn’t help it; he reached out and scratched behind her ears. She gave him a doggie smile and shifted her weight with a lurch to give him better access. “What a sweetie you are,” Troy told her.
“Hi, Ron. I didn’t know you were stopping by today.” Annie added another glass to the ones on the table. “Iced tea?”
“Sure, thanks. Hot one today.” Ron noticed Dmitri at the table. “Dmitri, you’re actually the one I needed to talk to.”
“Yeah?” Dmitri’s eyes flicked over to the dog.
“It’s Sweetie. Sarita thinks the cancer is back and it’s worse.”
“Oh, no,” Annie said. “Sit down, please.”
Troy petted Sweetie again. “Good girl,” he whispered, crouching down so he could stay with her.
Ron looked at him. Troy could feel him checking out his hair, his posture. “Military?” Ron asked.
Troy nodded.
“Marines?”
“Army. 10th Mountain.”
Ron shook his head. “Can’t stay out of the mountains, eh?” He asked with a smile. “Tough gig.” He turned back to Dmitri. “Anyway, I was hoping you could take a look at her. Maybe give me some ideas.”
“I’m not that kind of vet,” Dmitri said. “I don’t treat animals directly. I’m sorry.”
Ron raised one eyebrow skeptically. “But you do know how right? And if I’m not mistaken, your Dad said the research you’re doing is on cancer in dogs.”
Troy brushed his hand through the silky fur on Sweetie’s back. She panted heavily and leaned against him. He hated the thought of this lovely dog being in pain, dying from something so infuriating. His hand in her fur tightened and an unfocused anger built in him. Sweetie whined, and then laid her head across his thighs. The warm weight of her grounded him, and he found himself breathing in rhythm with the rise and fall of her sturdy body. Sighing, he leaned his head against the cabinet.
Dmitri echoed his sigh, but he sounded more upset. “You need to get her to a real vet. I know Sarita is really good with animals, but she’s not a doctor.”
“Dmitri,” Annie said sharply. “You can at least look at her. You must know something about it.”
Troy didn’t know Dmitri well at all, but it seemed to him that the man hesitated, reluctant to examine the dog. The skin around his eyes tightened, and Troy could tell he felt put on the spot, but why? Dmitri was a vet, right? Didn’t he like animals? No, that couldn’t be it. Moby was obviously well loved.
Dmitri shifted in his chair, turning it to face Ron. “What are her symptoms?”
“She’s been off her food, and she’s losing weight. I caught her vomiting a couple of times. You know she hates that.”
Troy ruffled Sweetie’s fur. “Poor baby,” he whispered to her.
“Is she in any pain?”
“I think so. She’s been walking kind of stiff.”
Dmitri walked over to Sweetie and crouched down next to her and Troy. “Hey, Sweetie,” he said, petting her. She thumped her tail on the floor. “How you doing?”
He spent a minute petting her, and Troy could tell by the small smile on his face he really did care for the old dog.
“I’m just going to poke you a little bit, okay, Sweetie? You’ll let me know if it hurts? Don’t pretend it doesn’t if it does; I know how you are.”
He talked to her as if she understood him completely. By the serious look she gave him, Troy was convinced she did. He was impressed by both of them. He scooted over so Dmitri could get the dog laid out on the floor.
Dmitri ran his hands gently over her side, starting from her head and reaching underneath her as best he could. He manipulated her legs, checking the joints, looked in her eyes, ears, and nose. When he reached her stomach, he probed lightly, his attention on her face. He pressed a few more times; watching the way her skin shuddered and her lips drew back from her teeth. Through it all, her tail never stopped wagging. “Good job, Sweetie,” he said with a final pat on her head and pushed himself up to his feet.
Ron looked at him expectantly.
“There’s definitely something going on with her abdomen. I’d get her to the vet as soon as possible.” He held his hand up to forestall any objections. “A real vet with an x-ray machine and everything.”
“Of course.” Ron seemed offended. “I don’t mess around with my dogs.”
Dmitri put his hand on Ron’s shoulder. “I know you don’t. I wasn’t accusing you; it’s me. I feel so helpless here. I hate when I can’t do anything.”
“You just keep working on that research. Something’s got to come of it, right?”
“We’re actually making great strides.”
Troy reluctantly stood up, sliding out from underneath Sweetie’s head. She seemed happy to stay there all day, and Troy was inclined to agree with her. She scrambled to a sitting position next to him, and his hand fell to her head. He looked at Dmitri, tilting his head to the door subtly when he caught Dmitri’s eye.
“We gotta go, Mom.” Dmitri drained the last of his iced tea. “But I was wondering, do you and Dad want to come over for Sunday dinner next weekend? Maybe Pippi and Vlad, too?”
Annie’s smile was huge. “We’d love to! How fun would that be? What brought this up?”
Dmitri shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I just miss Sunday dinners.”
Troy thought he detected a slight shine to Annie’s eyes, and Gil looked thoroughly pleased.
“I’ll look forward to it,” Gil said. “I’ll call your sister and brother and see if there around. Maybe we can all Skype Grandma, too.”
“That would be fun,” Annie agreed.
Troy stood, hat in hand. “It was lovely to meet you, Miss Annie. Gil.”
“You, too. Troy,” Annie said. “Will you be around for dinner next Sunday?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude -”
“He’ll be there,” Dmitri said. “Unless he’s working. Are you working?”
“Probably in the afternoon.”
Annie waved them away. “Get on the road. We can figure out the details later. Do you boys need to use the bathroom before you go?”
Dmitri rolled his eyes. “I’m not four, mom. I know when I have to pee.”
“Actually, it’s not a bad idea,” Troy said. “We should enjoy the indoor plumbing while we have it.”
Dmitri glared at both of them, then sighed, and went into the hall.
“Sweetie likes you,” Ron said to Troy.
“I like her, too. It’s a perfect name for her.”
“Yeah, she’s my best dog. I couldn’t bear to let her go, so I keep her as an ambassador; she greets every new client. They get convinced pretty quickly that a service dog is a good idea. She’s getting up there, though.”
“Service dogs?”
Dmitri came
back into the kitchen. “Your turn,” he said to Troy.
“Have Tree tell you about it,” Ron said. “We should talk.” He pulled out a worn leather wallet from his back pocket, took a business card out of it, and handed it to Troy. “Take my card. Give me a call when you’re back in town.”
Troy turned the card over in his hand. “Paws for a Cause,” it read. Underneath in smaller font is said ‘Saving dogs, saving lives’ and it had Ron’s name and phone. “I will,” Troy said, sliding the card into his wallet. “Ready?” he asked Dmitri.
“As I’ll ever be.”
Troy stopped in the bathroom, they said their goodbyes, and were on the road in a few minutes.
chapter thirteen
Pink and orange clouds floated in front of a robin’s egg blue sky as the sun set over the lake. Dmitri stared at it as if he’d never seen a sunset before. He felt like maybe he hadn’t. He certainly couldn’t remember feeling like this while watching one before.
They’d driven into the forest, through roads Dmitri had never been down. Steep rutted dirt roads that Troy assured him were legal for his truck to be on.
“Are you sure?” Dmitri asked, holding onto the handle in the ceiling with one hand and onto Moby with the other as the truck dropped into the hardened mud track pressed into the road.
“According to the motor vehicle use map I picked up at the Ranger’s station it is.”
“I don’t know what any of those words mean,” Dmitri answered. He wasn’t even sure this was technically a road. He hadn’t known there was such wilderness close to him. Sure, he had grown up in the shadow of the mountains, but he’d tended to stay to the safest place, the places that were easily accessible. He wondered how much he had missed. The view through the pine trees teased him with promises of endless mountain vistas, and he hoped the trees would open up soon.
“Do you trust me?” Troy asked.
Dmitri eyed Troy. The other man was smiling bigger than Dmitri had seen yet, teeth showing in his very kissable mouth. He couldn’t help but smile back. “Do I have a choice?”
