Chloe Sparrow

by Lesley Crewe

  “Want to go for coffee?”

  This is the best phrase in the world, second only to I love you, and We won the lottery!

  Aunt Ollie and Agatha think I’m deranged to take on a dog.

  I have to listen to them because they’re in the car with me, seeing as how Agatha’s ancient auto is back in the shop. We’re scouting out a playground to see if a boy named Preston is hurting the other kids.

  Agatha looks through her binoculars. “A big old hairy thing on its last legs.”

  “Who? Preston?”

  “No! The dog.”

  “He’s only three years old.”

  “But what if Rosie and Peanut don’t like him?” Aunt Ollie worries. “They come first.”

  “They’ll get used to him. We got used to Agatha, didn’t we?”

  Agatha punches my arm. “Take that, you brat.”

  “I sense action,” Aunt Ollie shouts. “Get the video camera ready.”

  This is my job. So I zoom in on the dratted Preston and a group of kids. I see him pull a girl’s hair, but she turns around and wallops him. He does it twice more and gets an elbow and spit in the eye. “This girl is going to make mincemeat of this kid.”

  My attention turns to the cop car stopped down the street and a woman pointing at our car.

  “Fuck!”

  “Chloe! Watch your language!” Aunt Ollie shouts.

  I throw the video camera at Agatha. “We’ve got to get out of here. A neighbour must think we’re creepers. Someone called the cops.”

  “What’s a creeper?” Agatha wants to know.

  “She thinks we’re pervs, and no, I’m not explaining right now!”

  I pull a U-turn and zoom up the street and turn at the first right, hoping to lose sight of the police car, but no, the car’s right on my tail. I’m not going to make matters worse by getting in a police chase. I pull over at the first available space and the officer parks behind me.

  “Don’t say anything! Let me do the talking.”

  Why do police officers all look gigantic when they get out of their cars and approach yours? My blood pressure spikes and I’m perspiring, which is always so attractive.

  The male officer leans into the car. “Ladies.”

  “Good afternoon, officer—”

  ”This is ridiculous!” Agatha shouts. “We’re not hardened criminals. We were only filming children.”

  We are released from the police station several hours later. Our arresting officer reads the riot act to Agatha and Aunt Ollie and tells them in no uncertain terms that it’s time to hang up their binoculars. I thank them very much and promise to keep my eye on them.

  The officer gives me a hard look. “Need I remind you that you were driving the car and manning the video camera? The warning extends to you as well.”

  “Of course. Don’t worry. You’ll never see us again.”

  The three of us hurry out to the car, and before I start the engine I turn in my seat. “Okay, you heard the man. No more of this. You’ll have to think of something else to keep you occupied.”

  Agatha grunts. “What kind of dirty mind would think we were taking pictures of children for sexual purposes?”

  “This is a very new world, Agatha, and unfortunately it’s all about perception. The truth is sometimes lost when people automatically assume the worst of mankind.”

  “Take me home. I’m tired,” Aunt Ollie sighs.

  “So do you promise me that Nosy Parkers is out of business?”

  They nod sadly.

  “Don’t worry. You’ll find another hobby.”

  I wish for Aunt Ollie and Agatha to find a new way to occupy themselves.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Our coffee date is a great success. We sit under the umbrellas of a sidewalk café and people-watch. The sights you see, when you just stay still.

  “What are you going to do now, Chloe?” Austin puts the cup up to his lips. Oh, to be that cup.

  “I’m picking up Dudley tomorrow. I can’t wait.”

  “I mean for the next hundred years.”

  I’ve been practising my coquettish manner in the bathroom mirror, so it comes quite naturally when I toss my hair and twitter demurely.

  He leans closer. “Did you swallow a fly?”

  “You total jerk. You always ruin the mood. I put on this polka-dot dress and these itchy espadrilles just for you. I could be on the cover of a magazine.”

  He gives me that cheeky smile and wrinkles his nose. I love when he does that. “You only need to be you. You’re not a model, you’re not on The Single Guy, and you’re not one of these exotic creatures walking down the sidewalk with designer price tags hanging all over their bodies.”

  Bat your eyelashes. “What am I, then?”

  “Have you got something in your eye…I’m kidding!” He puts up his hands and laughs before he leans back in his chair. “What are you? Let me see. You were my boss, and then you were my friend, and then I was hoping you’d be my girlfriend, but it turned out you were a thorn in my side. Thankfully, you’re now my friend again. I hope.”

  I put my sunglasses on the top of my head so I can squint at him. “I ask you what I am and that’s your answer? Haven’t you read any romance novels?”

  He nods his head slowly. “Oh, it’s like that, is it? Well, here’s my answer.” He takes my face in his hands and kisses me softly in front of the whole patio. Oh wow. I’m in a movie. This feels amazing...

  “Chloe?”

  I was unaware he’d stopped kissing me. “Yes.”

  “Pay attention.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Ask your question again.”

  “What question?”

  He drops his head in frustration.

  “Oh! Sorry, sorry. What am I, then?”

  He smiles when he looks up. “You’re my everything.”

  Dudley has been with me now for a couple of weeks. He’s become part of the garden gang. He and Bobby are fast friends, though Rosie and Peanut aren’t as thrilled. When they’re not hissing at him, they’re hiding from him—but the good thing about Dudley is he can’t be insulted. He’s happy about everything.

  I was so worried when I actually put him in the car and drove away. From the way Miss Elwood talked, I expected Dudley to roll down the window and shout that he was being kidnapped—but no. He grinned at me the whole time. At least, I think he was grinning. It’s hard to tell with his folds of saggy jowls. The minute I introduced him to the family, Gramps became his pal, and even Aunt Ollie and Agatha were smitten. It’s like I’ve always had him. He is definitely the canine version of Norton.

  Austin and I take him for walks and we visit his real mother, but Dudley loves going for car rides the best. His ears flap in the breeze out the passenger-side window, like two velvet banners announcing his arrival. When I stop at red lights, the drivers next to us all point and wave at him. He makes people feel good.

  Wait a minute. He makes people feel good.

  It’s mid-September when I attend Mary’s class and bring Dudley with me. Everyone’s face lights up, but I don’t care about everyone. I care about Tinker. She’s at the back, looking gloomy as usual, but I’m on to her. She can be saucy all she wants and give everyone the silent treatment, but she’s still showing up every week.

  I purposely sit next to her and nod hello, but then I concentrate on Mary at the front of the class. Dudley works his magic with his sweet temperament. Before long, Tinker is scratching behind his ear, and just like he did to me, he sits up and puts his head on Tinker’s lap for a cuddle. I don’t dare look at them.

  At the end of the meeting, I notice Tinker delay her exit. She’s usually the first out, so I strike.

  “Would you mind doing me a favour?” I ask her. “I think Dudley needs to pee. Can you take him outside while I t
alk to Mary for a second?”

  “You trust me to take your dog?”

  “Shouldn’t I?”

  Dudley looks at her with his soulful eyes and gives an impatient wiggle. He knows the word outside.

  So off Dudley goes with the devil herself holding his leash. If Miss Elwood saw this she’d have a heart attack. Mary is cleaning up the coffee cups and putting napkins away. I go up to her.

  “I was wondering, do you often get cases where young people think they’re responsible for their parent’s death?”

  “It happens, but often we never know it because it’s so difficult to talk about.”

  “That’s true. Okay, thank you.”

  She holds out her hand. “Why do you ask?”

  “Just a gut feeling.”

  When I go outside, Tinker and Dudley are halfway down the block. Dudley is sniffing at everything while Tinker patiently waits for him. I watch them for a while before Tinker turns around and sees me. She starts to come back.

  “Well, well, well,” I smile. “Looks like Dudley has a new friend.”

  Tinker reaches down to pat his head. “He’s a great dog.”

  “Isn’t he? I just love him. Do you have a dog?”

  “No.”

  “My parents never let me have a pet.”

  “Mine neither. Although I did have a hamster once. My dad killed it. He said he thought it was a rat.”

  Keep calm and carry on.

  “Hey, it’s only eight-thirty. Why don’t we get a coffee at the drive-through and Dudley and I can drive you home? Beats taking the bus.”

  “Okay.”

  “My name is Chloe Sparrow, by the way.”

  “Don’t expect me to shake your hand.”

  When the lady hands us our coffee, she spies Dudley in the back seat and insists on giving him a Timbit. Now I can see why Dudley is such a butterball. Everyone and his dog insists on giving him something to eat.

  Tinker doesn’t say much on the drive home, but I happily chat about nothing at all. Just the fact that she allowed me to get this close to her is a major victory. We pull up to a nondescript, two-storey house.

  “Thanks for the ride.” She opens her door.

  “Tinker, what’s your schedule like?”

  “My schedule? I think I’m having lunch with Justin Bieber on Thursday. Why?”

  “My vet told me that Dudley needs to lose a few pounds and that I should be walking him more often, but I’m really busy. Would you be interested in walking Dudley three or four times a week after school? I’d pay you, of course.”

  She takes her time thinking about it. “What do you want from me?”

  “Nothing. If you’re not interested, that’s okay. I’m going to put an ad on the bulletin board at Superstore tomorrow. I’m sure there are lots of students looking to make money.”

  “No kid does anything if they can help it. If they want money they sell a few pills.”

  “That’s awful.”

  “What would you know about it, with your fancy clothes, and car, and designer dog. You don’t have a clue.”

  “You’re probably right. I’m sorry I bothered you. Good night.”

  She gets out of the car and slams the door in my face.

  I’m on my laptop reading about grief and the power of animals to ease distress. Every day there are articles about dogs being used as companions for servicepeople suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD. This is where my years of research prove valuable. I’m relentless when I want to know something, and I’m not satisfied until I know everything.

  I mention it to Dexter at my appointment in late September.

  “Can I just say that you seem lighter than air?” he grins. “What a huge difference. What’s your secret?”

  “Let’s see.” I count on my fingers. “I credit my meds, walking dogs, kissing Austin and my cats, digging in dirt, thinking about Tinker, research, and my plans for the future. The list is long.”

  “She mentioned you at her last appointment.”

  “I haven’t seen her lately. She seems to have stopped going to the bereavement group.”

  “Don’t give up on her, Chloe. You are exactly what she needs.”

  Three days later there’s a knock at the door. Most people use the doorbell. When I open it, there’s Tinker.

  “Hello! How did you find me?”

  “Dr. McDermott. He said you wouldn’t mind.”

  “Not at all. Come on in. Dudley! Tinker’s here.”

  Dudley is asleep on his favourite chair, the one I’m supposed to get reupholstered. He opens one droopy eye and closes it again. “Just give him a minute. He’s like an old man when you wake him.”

  Tinker looks around. “You don’t have any furniture. I thought you were rich.”

  “No, I’m not rich. I’m comfortable. Come into the kitchen and have a drink while you’re waiting.”

  She follows me into the kitchen and sits at the table while I open the fridge. “I have sparkling water, mango-pineapple juice, or almond milk perhaps. There’s also coconut water.”

  “No rot-your-gut Coke or Pepsi?”

  “I do, but it’s warm.”

  “I’ll have the juice.”

  While I pour her a glass, Rosie and Peanut roar into the kitchen. They skid to a stop when they see Tinker.

  “Cute cats.”

  “They’re my babies. Their brother lives next door with my Gramps and Aunt Ollie.”

  The cats decide that Tinker is an interesting new landmark in their landscape and won’t leave her alone. I bring over the juice and join her at the table.

  “Don’t let them crawl all over you. You’ll be covered in fur in no time.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  As the cats continue to sniff and try to climb up her legs, the armour that surrounds Tinker softens a little. Of course, you’d still be scared to death to meet her in an alley, but this is the beauty of the animal mind. It’s your energy that matters, not what you look like.

  “So you live here alone,” she says.

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t you have a man?”

  “I do, as a matter of fact, but he has his own place.”

  “That’s dumb.”

  “Maybe, but I’m used to living by myself. Ever since my parents died when I was a teenager I’ve had to manage on my own, but I was lucky enough to have my grandfather and aunt live next door, so they helped me. Well, they tried to help me. Still, I love them and I’m grateful for their support. Someone is better than no one.”

  Tinker takes a sip of her drink. “That’s not always true.”

  She’s only ten years younger than I am, but I want to take her in my arms and rock her like a baby.

  “Do you work? I mean, now that you’re not Dr. McDermott’s secretary?” she asks.

  “I did, before I was a secretary. I produced the television show The Single Guy.”

  “Fuck off! You did not!”

  “I did, I swear.”

  “You’re too young to do something that cool.”

  “It was very hard work, believe me.”

  She looks at me with new respect. “So you know Austin Hawke?”

  “He’s my boyfriend.”

  “No way!”

  “Would you like to meet him sometime?”

  I see a flicker of a smile. “Are you serious? “

  “Sure. You’ll probably meet him if you take the dog-walking job. Is that why you’re here?”

  She nods and looks pleased.

  Dudley lumbers into the kitchen with a yawn. “Ready to go for a walk?”

  He knows the word walk, too, so the wiggling begins. I give Tinker his leash. “There’s a little park around the corner. He loves sniffing around there. Here’s a bag to clea
n up after him.”

  “Eww. I’m not doin’ that shit.”

  “Okay, but if you get arrested, I’m not making bail.”

  She’s trying not to smile. She takes the bag and walks out the door with Dudley. It’s just the beginning, but it’s a start.

  The weather is spectacular this fall, and the soft, buttery tones of the dying leaves and melting sun put me in a mellow frame of mind. Perhaps I’m noticing the weather more because Gramps and I have spent so much time in the backyard. When I look back on my life, I realize I’ve barely spent any time outside. That’s such a shame. It’s amazing the energy that seeps into your bones when you go about your day under a bright blue sky. I think the fresh air is helping Tinker as well, and all the walking has given Dudley a sleeker silhouette. Miss Elwood is delighted that he looks so well. I tell her that he has Tinker to thank for that. She says she wants to meet Tinker. I’m still trying to figure out how that’s going to go.

  Today I’m meeting Amanda for lunch. We haven’t seen each other in a while and I miss her in my life. As soon as I sit down at the table, she’s gobsmacked.

  “You look like a different person! You’ve got colour in those chubby cheeks, and is that a muscle I see on your arm?”

  “I haven’t noticed a muscle, but I do feel stronger. It’s all the work Gramps and I did for our vegetable patch. I think I’ll study gardening and do something with my front yard.”

  Amanda picks up her water glass. “Oh God, the Gardens of Versailles will pale in comparison when you’re done.”

  “That’s what Austin said.”

  “How is he? What’s the status?”

  The waiter interrupts. We order and I continue.

  “There is no status. We’re taking it slow.”

  She almost spits out her roll. “Taking it slow? You’ve been crazy about each other since the day you met. What the hell are you waiting for?”

  As usual, I feel like a kid when Amanda starts lecturing me. “We’ve had a bumpy road. Neither one of us wants to make a mistake.”

  “Don’t be an idiot. There’s such a thing as being too careful. Look what happened to your poor Aunt Ollie. You snooze, you lose.”

  “I’m sure we’ll muddle through without your help.”