"Hit it," she said. MJ accelerated slowly and we were off.
I worried that every breath would be the dog's last. Since coming to Stuart, all I'd encountered was one tragedy after another. Maybe I needed to take Skye up on her offer of using the smudge stick. Or go visit a church and light a candle. Or two or three. Something. I definitely needed a change of luck.
46
Two hours crept by while we waited in the vet's office. The only relief was an occasional visit from a new client, and Skye’s phone calls to Lou. He’d chased the truck through town and tried to get details on the owner, but his efforts had been complicated because the license plate had been covered with mud. Two of the digits were totally unreadable.
Our combined outrage about the abuse of the dog turned the three of us from acquaintances into instant best friends. We talked about this and that, and eventually discussed marital misadventures.
"I think of all my marriages so far as practice runs," said MJ, as she massaged hand lotion into her fingers, hands, and arms.
"Practice runs?" Skye asked, as she accepted a glob of lotion. "How many have you had?"
"Five so far. Six, if you count marrying the same man twice."
"Oh," I heard myself say as I smeared some of the cream on my hands. "Isn't that tiresome?"
"No. I got some fantastic gifts along the way. Even a couple of nice break-up presents, like this ring, see?" She extended her hand to show off a one-carat diamond in a white gold setting.
Skye and I both stared at the sparkler. I bet that she and I were thinking the same thing: Really? Neither of us said anything. I certainly had no room to talk.
"How about you, Skye?" I asked. "Were you ever married?"
She immediately ducked her head and turned away. "Yes," she said quietly.
Clearly this was not a topic she wanted to explore. That was fine by me. Just thinking about Dom and all the heartache, hassle, and hurt he had caused made me angry and sick by turns.
"At least I got a wonderful son out of it," I said, more to myself than to them.
"Amen to that. You're lucky. I never had kids. Wanted them. Might have stayed married if I had them, but it didn't happen." MJ leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes.
"How many times have you been properly in love?" Skye asked.
"Ah, the old Piers Morgan question," mumbled MJ. She appeared to be half-asleep. "Ten times. I counted them up."
"Once," I said sadly. They might both think I was talking about Dom, but I wasn't.
Skye said nothing until MJ prompted her, "You started it. You have to 'fess up."
She was saved from answering because the vet tech walked out to say, "The doctor has finished with your pup.”
My pup? I glanced at my friends. Who was she talking about?
The tech continued, “He has a broken leg, but otherwise no injuries."
"Looks like you've got yourself a dog," said Skye, smiling at me. "What are you planning to name him?"
I shook my head and said, "Me? A dog? That dog? Oh, no. I'm strictly a big dog person anyway. No way would I ever own a Chihuahua."
"Right," said MJ. "Explain that to the poor suffering creature in there!"
The vet tech handed the receptionist a billing form and disappeared. After tapping on a keyboard, the receptionist presented me with a bill so large it caused my head to spin. MJ leaned over my shoulder to take a peek.
"Tell Pete to come out here," she demanded of the receptionist.
In short order, a tall thin man with a bald spot joined us. His glance took us all in, but his eyes widened as he noticed MJ.
"Hey, MJ. I didn't realize you were out here. That your dog?"
"No, but this is my new boss, Pete, and I brought her here. I just got a good look at that bill, Pete. Now come on. Give her the friends and family discount, won't you? For me?"
If it is possible to smolder with sexuality while dinging someone over price, MJ proved herself a deft hand. The look she gave the vet was so X-rated, I found myself averting my eyes in embarrassment.
Skye's jaw nearly hit the floor.
The receptionist turned bright pink and began riffling noisily through the file cabinet.
"Go to the Elks with me this Saturday?" His voice sounded young, husky, and hopeful.
"Busy this Saturday. Working to get the store up and running. But if you knock fifty percent off, I'll cancel my plans for next Saturday."
"All right, all right," and he took the bill out of my hand. As I watched, he reduced it by half. "I take Visa and MasterCard. Thank you for your business."
The receptionist rang up the sale. "We'll phone you tomorrow to check on your dog."
Almost as though I was coming out of a trance, I put up a hand as a stop sign. "Wait! I don't want a dog. I don't know what's going to happen with—"
"Your store?" Skye raised her eyebrows. "Come on, Cara Mia. You're committed. You can't walk away from The Treasure Chest. Not now."
"Your life?" MJ smirked. "I don't think you should leave town until they track down Hal Humberger's murderer. Girlfriend, you're stuck here."
Shaking my head, I was speechless looking at my new friends.
The vet tech walked into the waiting area. She was carrying the dog in a new box, one with all four sides. Before I could protest, she shoved the container into my hands. "What a sweet guy. He barely whimpered during the procedure. How'd it happen? Did you step on him?"
The Chihuahua trembled up at me with huge chocolate eyes. On his left leg, he wore a U-shaped metal brace, reminiscent of a paperclip.
"Someone threw this little guy out of a moving truck," said Skye. "We were standing on the curb when the dog went sailing past. Can you believe that?"
"Some people need a good whack up the side of the head." The tech shook her head as she scratched the pup under his chin.
Skye stifled a giggle, while MJ smirked.
"You've got that right," I said, as I stared down at my new pet. "I think I'm going to name you Jack."
"Jack?" MJ's expressive eyebrows questioned me.
"It rhymes with whack."
47
"Why the glum look?" Skye asked me, as MJ drove us back to the store. "The dog is going to survive. He’s had good care. We lost a little time, but we're making progress on the store. You've got a plan of action, and a new pet."
"Look," I hesitated, but I couldn't keep silent any longer. "I don't mean to cry poor mouth, but I've got to come up with some income. Between the dog and the property, my little nest egg is dwindling at an alarming rate."
"I don't think we want to open our doors until we get the place fixed up," said MJ, "and that said, I'll call Jimmy and ask him to bump us to the head of his list."
"I can take time off from Pumpernickel's," said Skye. "While MJ works on selling antiques, you and I can start prepping and taping for painting, Cara."
"That leaves one big redecorating problem," I said. "Lighting."
"Angel runner, angel runner," intoned Skye. "We need fixtures."
"Excuse me?" I stopped petting Jack to listen.
"Whenever you need help, you call upon an angel runner. Celestial beings will come to your aid," explained Skye. "That's what I did when I needed a new place to live, and you walked into my life."
"With a dead body dragging along behind," MJ said.
"Thanks for reminding me," I said, but all three of us laughed.
"Dog food, leash, collar, dishes, and a bed," said MJ, pointing to a pet shop as she turned into the parking lot. "That's another list you need to tackle."
Yet another expense.
I left Jack with Skye while MJ and I rounded up the necessary products. The big Cadillac made one more stop before returning us to our store. While I sat in the car, MJ and Skye ran into Walmart. They came back with bottled water and more soft drinks for our refrigerator. Just seeing that maroon carton of Diet Dr Pepper made me instantly feel better. Much better.
Back at The Treasure Chest, I climbed
out of the car. "If you two don't mind taking the dog inside, I better call the hospital and check on Poppy."
As my friends carried Jack and the drinks into the store, I leaned against MJ's car and dialed the nursing station, only to be told that my grandfather's condition hadn't changed.
"His doctor wants him to stay the night. That infection in his foot has to be cleared up. We need to stabilize his blood sugar and adjust the insulin pump," said the nurse.
"Please tell him I'll drop by later to see him," I said, trying to make my voice heard over the sound of traffic at the nearby intersection. I had thought being outside would lend me privacy, and it had, but at the expense of noisy vehicles bustling by.
"I'll tell him you asked about him, but please call before you come. Mr. Potter will be working with a nutritionist most of the afternoon, and I don't want you to make a wasted visit," said the nurse.
Facing the street, I ended my phone call. I stood there, feeling a tornado of emotions and breathing the pungent smell of the ocean. As I did, airbrakes hissed as a dump truck stopped for a red light. I couldn't believe my eyes as I looked at its load. An old chandelier sat on top of a heap of junk that the truck was hauling.
Sprinting into the street, I ran up to the truck and banged on the passenger side door. "Hey, hey, hey!"
The driver rolled down the window. "Lady! What's the problem?"
"Where are you taking your load?"
"To the dump."
"Don't!" I yelled.
Twenty dollars later, I'd convinced him to pull over in front of The Treasure Chest. For another ten bucks, he unloaded not one or two but six chandeliers!
"Hey, guys! Come see!" I stuck my head inside the front door. MJ and Skye stepped out into the sunshine to admire my haul. Sure, the paint was chipping off, and the arms were dented, but we had lights. Pretty ones at that. When added to the fluorescent fixtures, these would definitely brighten up the shop.
When Bobby Gander joined us a few minutes later, he confirmed that the wiring actually looked okay. The fixtures had been dumped because of the chips and dents.
"These will be great," I decided. “I'm not ready to give up those old fluorescent fixtures, because we need a lot of light. Otherwise this place will continue to look like a cave."
Skye climbed on a ladder and tapped on one of the overhead fixtures. "Glass," she said. "Interesting. Hmmm. The big problem is how garish they look. The bulbs are too exposed. Yes, we need the light, but they look ugly."
"You can say that again." MJ shook her head.
"Be right back," said Skye. "I'm going on a supply run. We need masking tape and bulbs among other things."
"Keep the receipt," MJ called after her.
A half an hour later, she returned with bulbs, a drop cloth, several rolls of blue masking tape, a plastic template, a craft knife, and a couple of cans of a spray paint labeled, "Armour Etch."
"First, I'll need to take down all the pieces of glass covering the fluorescent lights. After I clean the glass, I'm going to use the tape to secure the plastic template. It has a pattern of swirls," Skye explained to MJ and me. "Finally, I'll spray the glass with Armour Etch. It will add a frosty look in swirl patterns. When I peel off the tape, the final effect should be softer and more elegant."
Bobby volunteered to climb the ladder. From there he could change the bulbs and retrieve the glass panes for her. I left them to it.
MJ continued to dial for dollars and looked up to tell me, "Jimmy will be here tomorrow to lay tile. He'll start in one corner and work his way across the floor, so we won't have to drag everything out of the building."
"How'd he get the tiles so fast?" I couldn't believe how quickly everything would be coming together. While Skye had been gone on her supply run, I continued taping around the baseboards and the big display windows as preparation for a new coat of paint. When Bobby got off the ladder, he started replacing the missing and damaged drywall.
"Jimmy diverted the tiles from another job," said MJ. "Some big house on Jupiter Island. I believe it was Celine Dion's pool house."
I felt my mouth drop open, but I didn't say a word. I was pretty confident that Celine's career wouldn't crash and burn if she had to do without tile for another week or two. On the other hand, my world would come to a bankrupt halt if I didn’t get this store up and running.
When I needed a break from taping the trim, I picked up Jack and carried him outside to a grassy verge at the back of the building so he could do his business. He proved most cooperative, wobbling around on his three good legs. Even though he wasn't wearing a leash, he clearly wasn't planning on running off. In fact, he piddled and then clumped right over to my side, watching me expectantly, waiting to be picked up.
"You're a good boy," I said. As I stroked Jack's ears, I realized how much I'd missed having a dog. I cuddled my new friend, and he licked my face. "What do you know, Jackie? Things are finally looking up."
But not for long.
48
Jack finished his business and hobbled a few steps. I let him enjoy the fresh air while I set his photo on to Tommy. Although I loved being outside, there was work to do. Carrying Jack under one arm, I went back into the dark building. As soon as I crossed the threshold, I knew that something was wrong. The hairs on my forearms prickled to attention, a really odd sensation. Hurrying through the back room and toward the sales floor, I tightened my grip on Jack. A soft growl assured me that he, too, felt uneasy.
I walked up behind MJ and Skye. They were standing shoulder to shoulder, staring at a woman doing a slow turn, taking in the mess. The visitor had rotated away from me. But as I approached, she pivoted. I couldn't help but gasp when I saw her face.
She reminded me of my mother. A younger version of my mom, of course. But strikingly beautiful…
The stranger shared our dark curly hair, the shape of my mother's face, and her thin-lipped mouth. When she lowered her designer sunglasses, I could see she also had my mother's penetrating gaze. Our visitor wore a turquoise silk sheath, sleeveless, with a matching floral sweater thrown around her shoulders. The sleeves were tied together to keep the sweater in place. On her wrists were a set of glittery bangles and on her feet were jeweled sandals. Her nails had been done in a crisp French manicure. Perfect.
I blushed as I imagined how I looked. I was dirty, disheveled, and wearing my daily uniform: a white tee shirt and blue jeans.
"So you are Cara Mia Delgatto? I've heard so much about you," said the visitor. She did not offer her hand to me.
"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage." It sounded terribly Victorian, but why wouldn’t it? I felt odd. Bizarre. As if I was dreaming. Or more accurately, having a nightmare.
I wanted this woman gone. I wanted her to leave immediately. Now. Every instinct told me that she was not the bearer of glad tidings. The fact she presented yet another interruption did not make me happy. Jack growled at her, a long low rumble that vibrated his tiny chest.
"I'm Jodi Wireka," she said. "Cooper Rivers' fiancée."
"Oh." What else was there to say? I was at a loss. I couldn’t muster up a congratulations. No way.
My friends stared at the interloper. MJ chewed on her bottom lip. Skye nibbled a fingernail.
"What is that?" Jodi pointed a finger at the dog.
Jack curled his lip and snarled. Yet another surprise in a day full of them.
“This is my dog.”
"What's wrong with him?" Jodi asked.
"A broken leg."
"Ah."
I knew I should ask Jodi to come back into the office area. I should offer her a cold bottle of water, since the refrigerator was now thoroughly stocked, but I couldn't. I felt painfully embarrassed about how grubby I must look. The voice of my mother roared into my head. "See? Haven't I told you time and time again? Cara, you must always dress appropriately. You never know when you'll need to make a good impression."
I mentally slapped duct tape over Mom's mouth.
"No wonder poor
Hal Humberger got you two confused." MJ looked from one of us to the other.
"Holy moly," said Skye, regarding each one of us in turn, her head swiveling back and forth. "I can't believe this! You two look so much alike."
"Not really," said Jodi.
That was a dig. She was dressed to the nines. Me, not so much. Also, I had about twenty pounds on her. Maybe more. Of course, she was wearing makeup, while I wasn't.
"It's nice to finally meet you, Cara. Cooper pays you all sorts of compliments. I am sure we can be good friends. In fact, I dropped by to hand-deliver an invitation to our wedding."
Skye reached for Jack, and I passed him to her. As we made the swap, a look passed between us. Her eyes said, "It's okay. I've got your back." She lifted her chin as a reminder that I should do the same.
"Is there some place we could talk in private?" Jodi raised one eyebrow.
I led us toward Essie's desk and made a mental note that I should eventually have the storage closet converted to an office, since that was the only space had a door to it.
"This is such a…surprise," I said.
"I'm sure it is." She played with her bracelets and looked around in distaste. "I always assumed we'd meet someday. I've seen your picture, you know. Cooper tossed out a package of old photos just the other day."
That hurt.
"Of course, you are older…than the pictures I mean," she added.
Her tone was perfectly pleasant, but the jab landed nonetheless. What would Kiki do? I wondered. She dealt with a lot of tough situations in her store. In response, I offered Jodi something cold to drink. I grabbed a Diet Dr Pepper for myself.
"Thank you, but I'm fine," Jodi said as she took the folding metal chair. With a sniff, she took in her surroundings. After a shudder, she set a beautiful blue Coach purse onto her lap so it wouldn't rest on the floor.
I opened the cola and sank into the big chair behind Essie's desk. Immediately, I regretted my choice. The seat was far too big for me. I probably looked like a kid playing grownup at her father's desk. However, I wasn't about to get up, walk around Jodi, and drag over another chair.
Kiki Lowenstein Books 1-3 & Cara Mia Delgatto Books 1-3: The Perfect Series for Crafters, Pet Lovers, and Readers Who Like Upbeat Books! Page 81
