She’d called her sister immediately after the unpleasant encounter. “Because I was too busy recounting the tale of Bella growling at him and scaring the crap out of him. My dog has excellent taste in men.” Though she doubted the dog would ever attack. She’d likely only lick someone to death. People assumed the worst about pit bulls, especially the oversized variety.
“Anyway, he made a crack about my ass looking larger than normal.” Sarah panned the phone down her seated form. “Seriously, I’m the same curvy wonder I’ve always been.”
“You know I’m not judging on body size. We’ve always been able to share pants. Nothing wrong with a size fourteen or maybe sixteen. I know my husband digs every inch of me.” Rachel pointed her finger at the screen. “Don’t you dare let him get in your head. He’s probably just missing what he had, all that bam and boom.” Rachel punctuated the comment with an exaggerated wink.
Sarah laughed at the description, one that they had both used for years. “Thanks, my ego needed that.”
“But you need a new Packer sleep shirt, that one has a few holes in it. Not to mention that the green and gold on those pajama pants are way too faded.”
“I’ll ask Santa for a new set, hint, hint.” Sarah grinned.
Rachel cocked her head, “Are we avoiding the truth, Dr. Sarah? I still haven’t heard about the reason pathetic jammies are on. But, for the record, I’m envying the lack of a bra. Can’t wait to ditch mine when I get home.”
Sarah laughed. “Oh yeah, best part of the day.” She took a deep breath and let out the day’s true misadventure. “So, my day started with asshole. Then I spilled the last of the latte on my shirt driving to work. Did I mention I was wearing a white shirt?”
“Wearing white is an invitation to spill,” Rachel immediately replied. “My job perk is dark gis.”
Sarah smirked at the dark wrap jacket visible. “Bonus for you.”
“What happened?” Sympathetic eyes that would understand any bad mood stared back at her.
Sarah closed her eyes, even as she felt Bella nestle her large block-head on her thighs. She just knows when I need a little love. After a quick ear scratch, she threw the tennis ball once again. “My last patient of the day was a college student, a junior and a business major. She sees me to help her cope with the demands placed on her by her family, mixed with her uncertainty over who she wants to be.”
“Are you violating patient confidentiality?” Rachel asked.
“Only if I tell you her name, so be quiet and listen,” Sarah admonished. “Today, she came to me for guidance on how to tell her family she’s dropping out to move cross-country with her boyfriend who was just accepted into a grad program in Georgia.”
“I get why that might bother you. Sounds fairly reminiscent,” Rachel replied and then her gaze narrowed. “Did you lose your shit with your patient?” Rachel’s question nailed the issue.
How well you know me.
“Oh yeah, big time. What started as a series of questions designed to make her question her future and desires became a lecture worthy of Mom, complete with a diatribe on respect, values, and not uprooting your life without the commitment of marriage.” Sarah hung her head at the recollection and then caught the sight of Bella leaving her a gift in the small yard. Perfectly timed metaphor, dog.
Glancing up into rounded eyes, she let her head fall back until it struck the back of the lawn chair. Ouch.
“You have to tell that to Mom. She’ll love it.” Rachel’s enthusiasm caught her by surprise.
Like I’m going to tell Mom she’s right.
Sarah forced her mind to center on the reason she currently wallowed in her backyard. “You’re missing the point. I blew it with my patient. She left my office in a huff and will likely make a similar mistake. Her life will never be the same.” Letting the guilt free, she admitted, “I failed her.”
“Lighten up, Sarah. You’re a psychologist, not God. Your patient will make her choices and learn. You tried, which is all you can do.” Rachel’s crack had Sarah staring into the screen in disbelief.
“My job is to help people with their lives and issues, not to share my stupidity.”
Rachel beamed into the screen. “I am so telling Mom that you just admitted that moving away with Scott was stupid rather than the life journey bullshit you spew at her.”
Despite the day, Sarah laughed. “Don’t you dare.”
“Fine. I’ll keep that a secret on one condition.”
“Name it,” Sarah immediately said, knowing her sister wouldn’t share without her permission.
“Promise me not to let Aunt Marge throw my baby shower and promise to be here when I have the babies. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit nervous.”
Their aunt loved throwing family parties, but it wasn’t her strength. The family motto was “remember, she did it with love.” The last event had been Rachel’s bridal shower. Aunt Marge had volunteered to do the decorations. Who would ever imagine needing to tell a fifty-something woman that a jungle theme was just not appropriate for Rachel, given her tastes?
“I promise,” Sarah vowed. “I’ll handle the shower and I’m officially hoarding all vacation time for the birth.”
Rachel’s gaze drifted to the dojo when three loud “kii-ya’s” echoed. “Class is done.” She rose with the phone in her hand. “Want me to call you when I get home?”
While she did, Sarah shook her head and then lifted her nearly empty glass to her lips. “Spend what’s left of your evening with your adorable husband.”
“Good idea.” Rachel winked again and both laughed. “What’s your Friday night plan?”
“It’s terribly exciting. I plan on making another vodka tonic and then some dinner. Likely followed by downloading a new book boyfriend to keep me company.” It seemed like a solid plan after a long, long day.
Rachel made a squeal. “I just read a crazy hot historical romance, I’ll text you the title.”
Just one more reason I adore my sister.
Bella’s barking pulled her gaze away from the screen, but she could only see the small yard and the garage off to the left.
“Go rescue the ball from the prickly bushes behind the garage. I’ll puke if you walk with me still on Facetime. Too jiggly. Besides, I should greet the parents picking up their kids.”
Sarah held the eyes of the person who meant the world to her. “I’m so happy for you. Call me after you tell Mom and Dad. I want to hear all about it.” She paused to sum up her thoughts. “Thank you for making me tell you about today. I feel better.”
“I will and you’re welcome.”
The conversation whispered in her mind and she felt a distance between her and her sister that she’d never imagined. “I’m sorry I’m not there with you.”
Bella’s barking grew more frequent and Sarah rose from the chair.
“Don’t be. I believe you are exactly where you are supposed to be.” Rachel answered before the screen flashed dark. They never said goodbye after any conversation, though Sarah couldn’t recall ever making that deal. It simply was how they were. After all, they’d talk tomorrow.
Letting the bliss of the call replace her lousy mood from a perceived nightmare day, she dropped the phone onto the lawn chair before heading toward the currently insistent barking. Stepping out of the shade the awning provided, she would have sworn she felt the freckles popping out on her unprotected skin, even in the diminishing light of early evening.
The sensation of sun-warmed grass became a gingerly dance over the rocks that covered the ground behind the garage. She startled with a strange tingle washing over her skin, one not due to the nature beneath her bare feet. While the dog stood next to the bush, it wasn’t the ball that held her attention, though Sarah hadn’t even known the oddity was there until she stood next to the creature. On approach, it seemed the dog was barking at the wall of the green painted garage. From the side, it hadn’t existed. To prove her point, she stepped back to the side and saw it blink out
of sight. Moving next to the dog, Sarah reached out to touch Bella’s short-haired coat while her mind attempted to process the unimaginable.
Why is there a door to a forest at the back of the garage? I wish Rachel were still on the phone. Maybe she would be able to make sense of this. Her gaze scanned the budding foliage on towering trees, the rich earthy scent that mixed with a tangy sea-salt aroma, and the grass and weeds that poked through what appeared to be a well-worn path. Her eyes lingered all around but avoided making contact with the man who stood staring back at her. He was dressed wrong for Arizona’s climate, and gaped slack-jawed back at her. Leather pants would be way too warm for a day in the eighties, not to mention the long-sleeved shirt.
“Tell me that beast is not going to bite my head off,” the man from the impossible door demanded. While the massive pit bull looked intimidating, Bella was all bark and never a bite. Though in the back of her mind, Sarah had full confidence that Bella would protect her if the need arose. Still, the barking continued. The first time she barked at me I nearly peed my pants.
Sarah shook her head and uttered the only word she could form. “Friendly.” Suddenly, she hoped the sentiment would be reciprocated as her gaze took in the sword strapped to the man’s back, the pommel clear to her view. Why in the world would someone walk around with a sword?
“Where are you?” he questioned. His gaze roamed around her while she simultaneously took him in. He had a medium muscular build with gray mixed in his light brown hair that fell to his shoulders. His hazel eyes appeared frustrated that all he could see was the six-foot high wooden fence that separated the yard from the nature preserve it backed up against.
Sarah gave the street name and he shook his head in confusion. “I don’t know that one. Arizona?”
“Yes. About fifteen miles outside of Phoenix.” She gave route numbers and understanding dawned on the man before her.
“Sure, I know the area, but I remember it being full of nothing.” His hazel eyes with light lines around them studied her clothing, or rather her battered pajamas. Picked a great evening to be in jammies and ignore the concept of a bra, what with visitors to the yard from doorways behind the garage.
“When are you?”
“What do you mean, when am I?” Out of her peripheral vision, she caught the dog pawing at the ball still stuck under the bush. “Hold on,” she muttered, looking away from the fantastical sight as she toed the gooey ball to freedom. Gross. The dog barked and nudged it with her nose. Falling into the safety of routine, she picked up the ball and threw it back toward the yard, far away from the door that led to the forest.
“What year is it?” he asked, clearly growing agitated.
Giving him the full date, she added, “It’s Friday.” As if that would answer everything.
The man nodded as his hand reached out to touch the air between them. In a heartbeat, Bella was back at her side, growling.
Finally, I loved the right creature. Maybe I should forget relationships and get a houseful of dogs.
Yet his hand never reached her and seemed to vanish out of sight before her, cut off before reaching her space. The door seemed to be an illusion, or at the minimum, a threshold unable to be breached. The disconcerting thought gave her some comfort.
“Same thing happened last time,” he muttered while dropping his hand back to his side, his expression bearing defeat. With the perceived threat gone, Bella sat at her side and sniffed the air. The breeze that ruffled his shirt and hair never reached her, but she smelled the green, the scents of pine and spring foliage mixing with earth coming to life.
“When was last time?” Sarah asked. “Please don’t tell me this kind of thing happens often.” Her comment came with a hand gesture to the door in front of her.
He chuckled and shook his head. “Think these are as rare as legends claim. My door happened over twenty years ago, I think. But it was August in 1977 when I stumbled through. That doesn’t jive with your date.”
In her head, she realized the man had entered wherever he was over forty years ago to her. Somewhere along the way, decades had vanished between them, which she couldn’t even begin to comprehend, so she settled for being rational. “Do you want me to call someone, I mean, I could call the police. Do you need help? Are you. . . trapped?” The word trapped felt odd on her tongue but was the only one she could find.
He seemed to weigh the question and shook his head. “I doubt anyone could help. Don’t worry, I’m good. I have a decent life here.” His brow furrowed. “Even if things are a bit of a mess now.” The last comment was mumbled and didn’t seem to be speaking to her.
Confusion rang in her head. “Where are you?” It seemed the simplest of questions given the scenario of doorways leading to a place around the world with unfathomable time differentials to the extreme. Maybe I should’ve eaten before my cocktail.
His eyes lit with a twinkle. “Scotland, the Highlands.”
“Oh,” she replied not even close to comprehending how they could be speaking. “When are you?” Once the question left her lips, a strong tingling sensation crept down her spine, making her doubt she truly wanted an answer.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Let’s just settle on the concept that this door messes with reality, like something out of an H.G. Wells novel.” Sarah heard the honesty and nodded mutely, though she had never read a Wells novel.
His hazel eyes glanced at her long pajama shirt. “Figures I’d meet a Packer fan. Always had a thing for the Bears myself.”
“Good thing you don’t need help,” Sarah quipped. His eyes lit with humor and he laughed softly.
His face sobered while he studied the edges of the door. “I don’t know how much longer this will stay open. If I give you my parents’ names, would you be willing to let them know that I’m okay?” His voice choked with the question and Sarah nodded. “I’m Peter Wollington, my parents are Max and Colleen. They used to live in Phoenix. Tell them . . . tell them . . .” His chin fell to his chest and he drew in a ragged breath. “Never mind. Too much time has passed.”
Pieces of the bizarre conversation came together in her mind. I left in 1977. . . When are you? Several decades have passed to the twenty years I’ve spent here. . . Sarah failed to make any sense out of the situation. Yet she knew she would attempt to track down his family. And say what?
“Who are you?” Peter finally asked a simple question.
“Sarah.”
“Well, it was extremely interesting to meet you. Here I thought the only excitement I’d see today was a deer hunt. Looks like I underestimated life.” The humor came back but his gaze seemed to echo longing at the threshold not to be crossed. “Besides, we lost the stag’s trail.”
Deer hunting she could follow; it might have been the Wisconsin state sport if not for football. “It was weird meeting you too.” They shared an awkward chuckle instead of trying to make sense of the scene.
As if bored by the bizarre conversation, Bella stood and nudged the ball toward Sarah’s feet. Like the well-trained dog caretaker she had become, she picked up the ball and threw it into the yard.
“I’ve missed the smell of the desert.” Peter’s voice carried longing and she understood the power of scent and the memories it carried. The scent of the greenery before her filled her with nostalgia for the north woods.
“Funny. I was missing the scents of the woods just a little bit ago.” Her lungs inhaled the aroma that she could only mentally describe as rich, sweet and nature at its finest. Smells like home.
Peter grinned at her and nodded his acceptance. Bella came back to her side and dropped the ball. Nudging it with her nose, it rolled several inches forward. Before Sarah could pick it up, the dog pounced on the soggy ball with her head low and her backend up in the air, attempting to create a new game.
In her mind, she would always look back and recall the pivotal moment that changed her life due to a light brush of her fingers. Her hand almost had the ball when the dog’s nose
pushed her palm. When she tried to squeeze the slobbery ball, it slipped from her grasp and rolled in seemingly slow motion to the edge of the door.
Peter said something that she never quite heard when the ball crossed the threshold and landed at his feet. Her gaze stuck on the yellow sphere crushing a weed next to what had to be soft leather boots, though there appeared to be no rugged soles. Before she could react, Bella leapt into the door to catch her prize.
“Shit,” Peter cursed with his hand on the sword pommel. “You have two seconds to get this dog to sit or I will assume she is a threat.” But the dog whimpered and shook her head while attempting to stand up straight.
“Sit, Bella.” The words flew from her mouth and the dog responded with a wagging tail, once again in control of her body. “Don’t you dare hurt that dog. It took me months to nurse her back to health.”
“I’m worried about the dog hurting me. This thing looks like it could rip my throat out.”
While true, Bella did appear fierce and given the way she barked at the ball, you had to know the dog to understand it was a request to play and not the prelude to an attack. “If you throw the ball, you’ll be her new best friend. Trust me.” It was the same thing Sarah had been told when she’d been asked to foster the dog needing a home at a time when Sarah had craved to be needed.
Peter hesitantly bent his knees to reach the ball with his gaze locked on the dog who barked at him. She knew if the dog had been a Labrador, he would have had zero hesitation. People always assume the worst about pits. The instant he lifted the tennis ball, his face scowled in clear disgust at the slobber that coated the once-fuzzy surface. “Fetch.” As she had predicted, the dog leapt after the ball and returned it to his feet with a wagging tail.
“Seems we’re going to be good together. Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of her.” Peter nodded as he stroked the animal’s head.
“No, you’re going to send her back here. I love that dog and want her back.” How could I ever forgive myself for letting my dog jump through a door to become trapped halfway around the world in a place where time runs differently? I should be examined for even thinking that’s a possibility.
The Draig's Choice Page 2
