by Debbie Burns
Zoe twisted in her sleep and curled into Josie automatically like she had when she was younger and had trouble sleeping. Josie brushed Zoe’s silky hair back from her forehead and allowed a few more minutes to tick by until she heard Carter rolling his and Myra’s suitcases to the top of the stairs. A big part of her was terrified to let go like this, but something else—coming from somewhere deeper—told her this was the right decision.
“Hey, sleepyhead, it’s time to get ready to go,” she whispered finally.
Proving for the umpteenth time her ability to move from zero to sixty in seconds, Zoe popped up as soon as her eyes were open. “I’m going on a plane. A real, live plane right into the sky.” She threw off the covers and clambered over Josie, accidentally kneeing her in the privates before hopping down to the floor and heading straight for the toilet in Josie’s room.
“And you’re going to love every minute.” Josie trailed along after her.
“For sure there are windows, right? Make sure to look up when we’re in the sky.”
“I will, baby, and yes, there are windows.”
“I wish you were coming. Are you for sure you aren’t going to be sad without me?”
“I’ll miss you, Zo, but I’m only going to be happy for you. My only concern is that you listen to Myra at all times like we talked about. No wandering away even a little bit. And always hold her hand if you’re near a street or on a busy sidewalk, okay?”
“What if I want to hold Carter’s hand?”
“That’s fine, but Myra’s known you since you were a baby. You stick by her.”
“Okay, Mommy.” Zoe flushed the toilet and splashed a trickle of water over her hands before Josie reminded her to wash them fully and brush her teeth.
When she was finished, Josie sat on Zoe’s bed soaking in the dark-gray light of early morning as Zoe tugged on the clothes that had been laid out last night. Afterward, they gathered her suitcase and backpack and headed downstairs.
Josie’s heart began to tap out a faster rhythm as she spotted Carter’s and Myra’s luggage by the back door. They were at the kitchen table having cups of tea and coffee and day-old scones. Linda would be arriving any moment, but she wasn’t here yet.
Buttercup rose to his feet as Josie and Zoe walked in. Tall enough to be nearly face-to-face with Zoe, he went from a sniff of her hair to a lick of her nose, making Zoe giggle. Tidbit was nowhere in sight. It was Josie’s best guess that he was still curled in Myra’s bed protesting this early morning activity.
Carter locked eyes with Josie and nodded toward Buttercup. “Sure you’re okay caring for him this weekend?”
Maybe because her palms were starting to sweat in anticipation of watching Zoe drive away without her for a long weekend, it was all Josie could do to bite her tongue about it being too late to change plans. It wasn’t Buttercup’s fault, but she was still hesitant around him. More than hesitant. He scared the crap out of her several times a day. She was pretty sure the dog sensed it and was standoffish around her as a result. “We’ll make it through.”
Carter had been relatively reserved since their night at the bar, compared to his earlier charismatic and flirtatious self, at least. Josie thought maybe he was being respectful, things having gone the way they did. She’d tried her best to put it from her mind entirely, but every so often, little whispers of memory rose to the surface like the soft tapping of late-summer rains on the windows. The desire that accompanied them—nearly knocking her off her feet—wasn’t sexual. Not really. It was the sense of security, of being cared for, that she’d gone her entire life without that had threatened to be her undoing this last two weeks.
“Feel free to shut him in my room when you’re busy if you don’t want him wandering around,” Carter said as if picking up on her hesitation. “And what do you want to do about his leash?” He was referring to the fact that he had Buttercup following him around indoors and out without one. All he needed to do was give a light click of the tongue or snap of the fingers, and the dog trotted over as if he’d been conditioned to listen to Carter’s direction all his life.
Considering she’d had incredibly little to do with the giant of a dog since his arrival, it was unlikely he’d behave as well for her. “Do you want to practice putting it on him while I’m still here?”
Clearly, Carter knew it too.
Josie was disinclined; her pulse was racing fast enough knowing she was about to see Zoe off. Maybe it would be easier if she’d broken down and petted the dog before this. Given him some treats. He’d been here two full weeks, and she hadn’t so much as touched him. He’d sniffed her several times, but each time she’d frozen, and her hands had locked into fists.
Zoe buried her fingers in Buttercup’s thick fur. “He’s the best dog in the world. You’re going to love him, Mommy.”
“You know what they say, wonders never cease.” Seeing Zoe’s unmasked adoration, a real smile lit her face. “You’ll remember your homework, Zo, right? You don’t have much, but you’re missing two days of school.”
Zoe mumbled that she’d remember, and Myra rose from her chair. She headed for the sink and set her and Carter’s cups in it. “We’ll check in frequently.”
“I know.”
All too fast, they were headed out the back door, then Carter was putting the suitcases in the trunk of his car. Josie was glad the morning was still a dark silver-gray. Hopefully it would hide any worry spilling into her eyes. Beside her, Zoe yawned heavily but somehow managed to do so without her grin dissolving.
Carter opened the driver’s-side door and disappeared inside. A second later, the engine revved to life. Buttercup had followed them out. After relieving himself, the big dog lumbered over to Carter’s side of the car and sat down on his haunches expectantly. Josie got the sense he was waiting to be let inside.
Josie hugged Zoe tightly and planted a dozen kisses on her cheeks. Zoe giggled and dragged a hand over her face.
“It’s going to be all right,” Myra said, hugging her. “Don’t worry about a thing.”
“I won’t. She’s in good hands.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed,” Myra replied, glancing inside the car.
“Yours, Myra. You’re the one I trust with her.”
“I know, dear.”
After another round of hugs, they filed inside—Zoe to the back seat, Myra to the front. Josie shut the passenger door and stepped back, folding her arms across her chest.
Carter popped out, heading toward the trunk. Rather than stop at it, he kept walking until he reached her. So, he wasn’t not going to say goodbye. Josie opened her mouth, but the words stuck in her throat inexplicably.
Before she registered what was happening, he leaned in and pressed his lips boldly against hers. Startled, she started to pull back just as one of his hands wrapped around the back of her head. He locked his other hand around her hip, drawing her closer into him.
It was a real kiss. Deep and hungry. And it set her insides on fire. For the first time all morning, she wasn’t thinking about planes or fake social security cards or crowded city streets.
Something inside her registered that she should pull away or slap him or something. Even if the feeling of his mouth on hers was perfection.
Finally, it occurred to her to question whether Zoe was witnessing it from inside the car.
He ended it before her body finished warring with her mind and she decided how to react. He pulled away just enough that his mouth was mere inches from hers, and he rested his hands atop her shoulders.
A playful smile formed on his lips, and his teeth gleamed white in the silvery light. “With any luck, that’ll keep you preoccupied until midway through the flight at least. Before you know it, she’ll be safely on the ground, and you’ll be able to enjoy the long weekend.”
He dropped hold of Josie abruptly and headed back to his side of the car like it n
ever happened. He stopped by Buttercup who was still staring at Carter’s door as if he were waiting for him to pop the seat forward so he could hop in. Carter stopped to ruffle his fur. “Good boy, you. Be good for Josie, will you?”
“That’s it?” Josie’s words came out in a squeak.
He turned and winked at her in the silvery light. “For now.”
Then his door was shut, and the Mustang was in reverse. Josie and Buttercup watched them go with, no doubt, the same confused looks on their faces.
Chapter 24
It was Buttercup’s solemn brown eyes that threw her. That, and the humanlike way his eyebrows raised as he watched her move about the house after the tea garden closed and everyone left for the day. So different from Tidbit, who hadn’t yet seemed to notice Myra’s absence; he’d napped and chased the cats and hung out on the terrace most of the day with the customers, hoping for handouts. Now he was dozing again.
Buttercup was less like a dog and more like a person circling through the life of a dog. A bit surprisingly, Josie had gone ten hours and had managed not to touch him yet. His tail had brushed against her leg, and his cool, moist nose had pressed against her bare calves a few times, but he seemed to have picked up on Josie’s determination to keep this thing between them as much of a business transaction as she could.
She’d worked through breakfast and lunch—she’d not been in the space to acknowledge hunger until she’d heard Zoe was safely on the ground in New York. While she and Linda had finished prepping for tomorrow and cleaning up from lunch, she nibbled on a handful of grapes. Now that everyone was gone, Zoe was safely on the ground, and Josie had time to herself, she was starving. She heated up a large slice of today’s special quiche, kale with shallots and goat cheese and a sweet-potato crust, and a cup of tea—she’d chosen the Missing You Matcha—and headed to the terrace with Myra’s mother’s prayer book in hand.
She couldn’t say exactly why, but she needed to reread Abigail’s letter. Myron’s picture was no longer with it, which Josie found to be like a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich without the jelly. She read Abigail’s original version rather than her translated one, marveling again over Abigail’s precise and distinctive penmanship. After the hours she’d spent revising it, Josie knew every next word before her eyes landed on it, and still, it left her wanting.
Sitting back in her chair after she finished, Josie ate another bite of the mouthwatering quiche, savoring the buttery, salty, flaky layers of the sweet-potato crust in a way she normally didn’t. Great food, sex, the unadulterated bliss of a child, birdsong, sunsets, the loyalty of a trusted dog at your feet. They were the first fleeting pleasures that came to mind, but the list was endless. And none of them could be held onto. Whenever anyone tried, pleasure faded into the dullness of routine.
She’d first thought it was Carter who was the interloper here. Even though they were still waiting on the DNA results to come back, for the first time, she found herself wondering how different she was from Myron. She’d come here a vagrant with an infant in tow, and she’d been swept away by this house, by these grounds, by the love of, and for, a charismatic Moore woman. She worked day in and day out on these grounds and attempted to hold onto a beauty that didn’t belong to her.
What if nothing belonged to her at all? If, in fact, it had been her fate to die that day in LA with her brother. To never have gotten Zoe out. How long could someone stay hidden on borrowed time? How long could you avoid your fate?
As if sensing her turmoil, Buttercup, who was splayed on his side next to her chair, hauled himself to his feet with a grunt. The big dog was so tall, he was almost at shoulder level. Thankfully, his cuts were healed and hardly visible in his thick fur.
“Do you remember what happened to you, Buttercup? Do you dream about it and wake up sweaty and terrified of what might be about to burst through the door?”
That’s total personification, Josie. Besides, dogs don’t sweat. They pant.
Like he’d done with Zoe, Buttercup abruptly shoved forward and swiped his giant, pink tongue fully across her mouth and over the tip of her nose.
Coughing, Josie turned her face and dragged a napkin over it. “Please. No tongue. Never tongue. I see you licking your privates when no one’s looking.”
Undeterred, Buttercup pressed in and rested his giant furry head on her thigh, his eyebrows raised as if to say, “Really, you haven’t petted me yet? What’s holding you back?”
“Fine,” she said, placing one hand cautiously over the top of his shoulders. “But don’t take this to mean we’re friends.”
His fur was so much softer than she’d imagined. Thick, silky, and inviting. No wonder Zoe couldn’t keep her hands out of it. She ran her hand along the length of his back, and he wagged his tail and shifted sideways so she had an easier reach. She ran her hand down his back over and over again, surprised to find it as rewarding for her as it seemed to be for him. “You and me, we’re the interlopers here, you know. Waiting to see if someone comes to claim us. Or if we get to stay.”
* * *
A quarter moon was sinking in the west as Josie walked through the gardens early Monday morning. The long day ahead might’ve felt less daunting had she been able to sleep in, but she’d opened her eyes at a quarter to six like every other day. With the tea garden closed today, she had nothing but the dogs and her thoughts to fill her time until Zoe, Myra, and Carter returned around 6:00 p.m.
It was September, and the garden was still in bloom with the last of the summer and early fall flowers and herbs. As she walked the grounds, Buttercup hung by her side, leaving only to do his business in the far corner where Carter had been training him to go. Tidbit, who was finally seeming a bit lost without Myra, trotted about, sniffing this and that, popping his head into bushes in hopes of spotting a squirrel or stray cat.
The whole grounds seemed to be basking in the long hush of night as the sky lightened in the east. A heavy dew covered the bushes, flowers, and grass, soaking Josie’s bare feet, and one or two birds were starting to trill erratic morning songs. She inhaled deeply through her nose, savoring the earthy garden scents.
After Buttercup made his way back to her, she paused to inspect one of the three painted fairy houses that Zoe and Carter had placed around the flower beds. Reminiscent of a Smurf house but painted in a rainbow of colors, the little house sat on a wooden stilt just above a carpet of white daises.
Inside its latched half door, a trail of ants was devouring a peanut-butter cookie. Josie opened the door and swept the cookie to the ground. Buttercup inhaled it—ants and all—with a single swipe of his tongue.
She’d not thought about him getting bitten, but when he didn’t seem fazed in the slightest, she figured his tongue was thick enough to keep him safe. She headed to the other two houses in other beds and swept them out, giving the cookies a shake to free them of any ants and dropping them so Buttercup could catch them in midair. On the other side of the yard, Tidbit was too busy sniffing around one of the birdbaths to notice Buttercup’s special treatment.
“So, what should we leave in return?”
Buttercup cocked his head and stared at her as if he were trying to figure her out.
Jewelry maybe, or some fun little trinkets, she decided. She would head into town later this morning to see what she could find. The part of her that would forever be her mother’s child warned it was ridiculous to feed this fairy nonsense any more than she already had.
But what was the harm in indulging Zoe in a bit of fantasy? Too much work had gone into the houses not to have them catch a hint of something. So, after a lazy breakfast with the dogs on the terrace, she jogged—and missed Carter razzing her along the way—showered, and then headed into town to shop. She took her time, browsing through more than a dozen shops on Main Street. After a bit of deliberation, she returned to three different stores to purchase her favorite finds: a miniature gold pot wi
th a four-leaf clover on its front, a small turtle with a diamond-shaped shell made of jade, and a miniature glass puppy figurine that could pass for a young Buttercup.
By the time Zoe, Carter, and Myra had landed in the Dubuque Regional Airport, gotten their bags, and were driving home, Josie had survived the long, quiet day, filled the fairy houses, and had Zoe’s favorite dinner of homemade chicken fingers, smashed red potatoes, cheddar-cheese biscuits, and a salad with extra peas and tomatoes ready and waiting for all of them.
Her heart skipped a beat when she heard the rumble of Carter’s Mustang as it rolled onto the parking pad next to the detached garage. Thanks in part to her focus on being separated from Zoe and getting used to Buttercup, Josie had been distracted enough that she’d not come to any resolution as to how to address that kiss of Carter’s.
Determining to pretend it never happened until they were alone and she knew what she wanted to say, she jogged around back to greet everyone. Tidbit and Buttercup dashed to the edge of the yard and trotted back and forth by the back gate, just as anxious to greet everyone as she was.
Once Zoe was in her arms, it was as if they’d never been separated. “Oh, my little sweets, I think you grew. And I’m so excited to hear all about your trip!”
“It was so fun, Mommy,” Zoe said, launching into a litany of her new favorite things.
With Zoe still on her hip, Josie hugged Myra, careful not to trip over Tidbit who was running around her in circles. “How’d you hold up?”
“It was the weekend of a lifetime,” Myra said. “My only sadness was that you weren’t there to share it with us.”
Zoe slid off Josie’s hip to wrap an excited Buttercup in a bear hug—the sight of which didn’t even have Josie flinching. She credited her new comfort with the giant dog to his hopping onto her bed the last few nights at bedtime—like there was no question whether he had equal rights to it—and snoring the night away. His endearing sleepy-time demeanor had warmed her to him just as much as his daytime habits of patiently following her everywhere she went.
