Chasing Tail

by Roxanne St Claire

  So Connor looked around for Shane or Chloe, finding them with a group of cousins, in-laws, and extras, all gathered around Gramma Finnie and Yiayia, who held court in their rockers, each with a baby on her lap.

  “Careful with Annabelle,” Connor said to Gramma Finnie as he sat down on the hassock in front of their rockers. “She blows like Vesuvius when you least expect it.”

  “Nonsense, lad,” Gramma Finnie said, situating the baby on her lap with the ease of a woman who’d rocked dozens of little ones. “You jus’ need to know how to calm them.”

  “This one is always calm,” Yiayia said, patting little Danny’s head as she moved back and forth. “He’s so good.”

  Molly beamed. “He’s the best baby ever.”

  “Hey!” From the sofa, Pru gave her mother a tap with her shoe. “Don’t rile up my sibling rivalry.”

  They laughed and talked some more, then Connor leaned over to Shane to say, “Don’t leave without getting Sadie’s—er, I mean Chloe’s ring back.”

  “Don’t need it anymore?”

  “Not after the election.”

  “I’ll pretend I’m not hearin’ that, lad.” Gramma Finnie made a sad face. “Agnes and I were so excited about another matchmaking victory.”

  “Oh, Gramma!” Pru stuck her nose in, of course. “They’re not breaking up. Are you, Connor?”

  “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

  Yiayia and Gramma Finnie exchanged a look. “We did it!” They mouthed the words and leaned toward each other, their hands too full of babies to actually high-five.

  “Really?” Pru practically shrieked.

  “It’s not pretend anymore?” Chloe asked.

  “I should have bet more in the family pool,” Shane mumbled with a half-smile.

  “Who can blame you for not betting on me in the relationship department?” Connor asked. “I don’t exactly have a stellar track record.”

  “Your track record starts now,” Gramma Finnie said, inching her littler rocker forward. “From this day on, in sickness and in health, for better or worse…”

  Shane snorted. “That’s enough J-juice for you, Finola Kilcannon.”

  She tsked him, but kept her eyes on Connor. “I knew it the moment I met her,” she said, her brogue thickening like it did when she got emotional.

  “How’d you know?” he asked, dying for the answer.

  She just tilted her head. “I remembered.”

  “Remembered what?”

  “The two of you debating onstage…in high school. ’Twas obvious to any observer, lad, that you were meant for each other.”

  “Connor and Ear Girl?” Garrett snorted. “Sorry, Gramma. I was there. Wasn’t obvious to anyone.”

  She shook her old white head. “She was just so lovely and serious. And you talked and joked and made everyone laugh.”

  “Like the idiot I was back then,” he murmured.

  “Back then?” Braden stage-whispered to Pru, who giggled.

  But Gramma was deep in her memory of the moment, her blue eyes distant as she recalled a moment that Connor wished he could. “There was something in the way she looked at you, like she wanted to strangle you and kiss you at the same time.”

  Everyone laughed. “Perfect recipe for love,” Shane joked.

  “Then Margie told me she was comin’ from Washington and…” Gramma lifted a shoulder and leaned her head toward Yiayia. “We worked our magic.”

  “The campaign manager idea was mine,” Yiayia said. “Sorry, but it was brilliant.”

  “I like the way it all played out even better,” Connor said, putting a hand on both women’s arms. “Thank you, Dogmothers.”

  “Aww.” Molly waved her hands at her face, air-drying tears she wasn’t really shedding.

  “Gramma, who’s next?” Pru asked, up on her knees. “Say it’s Declan. Please say it’s Declan.”

  “Can it, child,” Declan said from where he leaned on the porch railing.

  “It’s time for a Greek,” Yiayia insisted, sitting up to point at the yard, where John Santorini was slowly making his way from the kennels to the porch, alone as he so frequently was. “My Yianni is next.”

  “Better find a geeky math lover for Spreadsheet John,” Shane joked.

  “Someone serious like him,” Pru said.

  “Who doesn’t like to laugh,” Shane said.

  “And someone who cares more about the bottom line than anything,” Alex, John’s twin brother and partner at Santorini’s, the deli they co-owned, chimed in. “But I have to say…” He put an arm around the beautiful blonde next to him. “You guys do good work.”

  Grace smiled at him and petted the light brown dog that snuggled between them.

  “We’re not perfect yet,” Yiayia said. “But we’re getting better.”

  From inside the house, they heard a few high-pitched shrieks.

  “The results are in!” Ella bounded out with her unbridled energy. “The Bitter Bark mayoral results have just gone up on the town website.”

  Behind Ella, Sadie stood in the shadows of the kitchen.

  “Do you know?” Connor asked her.

  “Not yet.” She came out with Darcy and Cassie, and a few others joined them, including John, who came up the steps, the poor guy clueless about what was about to hit him.

  “Who wants to look?” Connor stood to reach for Sadie’s hand and bring her right to the hassock where he’d asked her to marry him…the second time.

  “I got it.” Shane thumbed his phone as everyone gathered around, cracking jokes with nervous laughter.

  “Wait,” Sadie said. “Where’s Frank? He should be here.”

  “He’s in the kennels,” John said, adjusting his glasses.

  “I thought he was in the pen.” Connor leaned back to look at all the dogs, but he didn’t see the wild tail and stubby ears of the one he loved.

  “Your orange cat found a safe spot in the back, and he went to join her.” John ran a hand over his short-cropped beard and adjusted his dark-rimmed glasses. “Now that’s an odd couple.”

  “I got the results,” Shane announced, standing in the center of all of them and looking at his phone. “And…wow. Wow.”

  The group hummed with question, but Sadie and Connor just joined hands and looked at each other.

  “Doesn’t matter,” she whispered.

  “We’ve already won,” he replied.

  As he leaned over to kiss her, he winked at Gramma Finnie.

  “All right, tell us without Frank,” Sadie said. “I have to know.”

  Shane cleared his throat and started to read. “Dateline, Bitter Bark, North Carolina.”

  “Just give the results,” Connor urged.

  “It’s a little more complicated than that,” Shane said.

  “You can say that again.” Trace had his phone out, and Molly was reading over his shoulder, her jaw dropped open.

  “Like I said.” Shane shot a look at Connor. “Dateline, Bitter Bark, North Carolina. ‘In a shocking and historic twist in what has already been the most unorthodox of mayoral campaigns in this town’s one-hundred-and-fifty-three-year history, the winner of the office was not on the ballot.’”

  “What?”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “How is that possible?”

  Shane waited for the outburst to die down before he continued. “‘Not exactly on the ballot,’” he read. “‘All the names were there in one form or another. Mercedes “Sadie” Hartman, Frank “the local hero dog,” and Connor “Frank’s Chief of Staff” Mahoney have all been actively campaigning for the office.’ Third candidate Mitch Eastercrook wussed out at the last minute with his tail, not nearly as fine as Frank’s, between his legs.” Shane grinned. “I added that.”

  “Keep reading!” Sadie insisted over the noisy laughter, squeezing Connor’s hand.

  “Okay. Okay. ‘In an election first, the winner was selected by write-in, achieving a historic eighty-seven percent of the vote. The
next mayor of Bitter Bark will be, in truth, two mayors and a dog.’”

  Another flurry of questions and comments stopped the reading, but Sadie and Connor just stared at each other as that sank in.

  “A write-in?” she asked.

  “As…a team?”

  “That’s exactly what it is,” Shane confirmed. “Listen. ‘The citizens of Bitter Bark overwhelmingly want Hartman and Mahoney as co-mayors, with Frank as the ceremonial mayor to appear at all events, support fundraising, and generally raise the spirits of the town. The humans are expected to handle budgets, pay raises, and other mayoral issues as co-mayors.’”

  For a moment, there was dead silence, and then a cheer erupted so loud, the dogs in the pen started barking.

  “Co-mayors?” Sadie whispered as if in shock.

  “There’s a little more,” Shane said. “‘At least fifty write-ins included requests to be invited to the wedding of the co-mayors, and several said that the job should be contingent on both mayors having the same last name.’” He held up a hand like he was taking an oath. “Swear to God, I didn’t make that up.”

  All around them, the family cheered. The glasses clinked. The jokes erupted, and the congratulations rained down, and Annabelle cried at the noise.

  But all Connor could do was look into Sadie’s eyes and see the greatest victory he’d ever won. She bit her lip and put her hand on his cheek, her fingers trembling against his skin.

  “I can’t believe it.”

  “Neither can I.”

  “We both won.”

  “We sure did.”

  He took her hand in his and slid his fingers over the ring she’d been wearing since he’d given it to her right here in this same spot. “Take it off now.”

  She blinked at him, and some of the noise died down around them.

  “Off?”

  “Take that ring off, Sadie.” He helped her, aware that now everyone was listening.

  “Of course. It wasn’t real.” She slid it over her knuckle and handed it to him. He didn’t even look at it, but raised it up for Shane. “Thank you, bro, for the loaner. We won’t be needing that anymore.”

  “Oh.” Gramma Finnie let out a soft whimper.

  “Not at all?” Yiayia’s disappointment was clear.

  “No.” Connor put his hands on Sadie’s cheeks and held her face in front of his. “Because when I put a ring on this woman’s finger, it will have taken Mother Nature a million years to create it, which is just about how long this love is going to last.”

  “Oh, my heart, lad, I canna take it.”

  Sadie’s eyes filled. “Neither can I.”

  “I love you,” he whispered. “Co-Mayor.”

  “I love you, too.” She melted into his kiss while the family cheered.

  After a moment, he inched back and gestured toward the kennels. “Let’s tell Frank and Demi they’ll be spending their days at town hall. And their nights….” He kissed her again. “Sadie, we’re going to need a bigger bed.”

  Epilogue

  “And that, according to Thaddeus Ambrose Bushrod, is the real reason this hickory tree is called a bitter bark tree.” Connor looked around at the forty or so people gathered under and around that tree, many of them with children and picnic baskets. “Not because there was already a Hickory, North Carolina, but because our founder tried to eat the round, brown fruit and found it to be…” He glanced down at the book in his hand. “‘As bitter a taste as hate and resentment, which no man shall harbor and be healthy.’”

  The sentence had been underlined by the last person to read the book, Joe Mahoney.

  Connor closed the book with a squeeze that he wished he could give his dad and a silent thanks for all the life lessons Thad—and Dad—taught him.

  The whole crowd broke into applause and then continued their Saturday afternoon in the square, finishing picnics, walking dogs, and running to the playground.

  Next to him, Sadie leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Well done, teacher. I think Saturday Civics is a huge hit.”

  He nodded as no small amount of pride rolled through him. After he’d read History of Bitter Bark, as penned by Thad himself, the notes in the margins in his father’s handwriting gave him the idea to pass some of this wisdom to the town. He still couldn’t get over the irony that so many of his father’s insights came directly from the man who’d founded Bitter Bark. Sure, Dad had put them in modern language, but the concepts were the same.

  When he told Sadie how much he wanted to share the lessons, she’d joked that he finally cared about civics class, so the co-mayors launched Saturday Civics and invited local schoolchildren and parents—and dogs, plus one very beloved kitty—once a month to the square to learn the deep and colorful history of the town.

  The program was young, but already a huge hit. Frank welcomed the families with a wagging tail that always got him treats. Sadie handed out flyers with the day’s lesson and notes, and Connor stood at the base of Thad’s statue and read a short chapter.

  As the crowd thinned out and dispersed, Connor and Sadie cleaned up anything left behind. They usually took a stroll with Frank after Saturday Civics, sometimes stopping by Gramma Finnie and Yiayia’s house to visit, sometimes getting some pizza to share on their favorite bench.

  But today, Connor had a different plan. An elaborate plan. One that might take all day if it unfolded the way he hoped. But as Sadie walked toward him with that light blue sundress the same color as the Bitter Bark summer sky, he started to rethink that elaborate plan.

  Better to get it done and start…celebrating.

  “You got pretty dressed up for Saturday Civics,” he noted, letting his gaze linger over every inch of her, from her stupendous hair down to the pink-tipped toes that peeked out of her sandals.

  “It’s our anniversary,” she said simply.

  Wait. She knew that, too? “Five months since we met at Bushrod’s,” he said. “I didn’t think you remembered.”

  “Of course I remember.” She reached him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’ve been looking for an excuse to wear this dress I bought from Yvette.”

  “Yvette? Oh, then I know what’s underneath.”

  She bit her lip. “I did get something special to go with it.”

  He let out a little grunt. “Maybe we should just go home and…”

  “Anything you want.” She pressed into him and nibbled on his chin. “I want you to know they’ve been the best five months of my life.”

  He searched her face for a long moment, thinking about all he had planned, but…

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “I can’t wait.”

  “For what?”

  “I was going to start at Bushrod’s and give you a little speech about finding you on the street.”

  “Start? Start what?”

  He just lifted his brows. “Our anniversary celebration.”

  “Okay, Bushrod’s. Let’s go to the place where I was lost.” She lifted up on her toes and kissed him again. “And now I’m found.”

  “Actually, I was lost, Ear Girl. You were the one who pointed me in the right direction.” Holding her tight, he looked around, mentally visualizing his map. “Then I thought we’d go to town hall and visit my dad’s picture.”

  “Aww. I’d like that. The man who taught us both so much. Let’s go now.”

  She tried to pull him in that direction, but he stayed still, not willing to leave this midsummer sunshine or the perfect feel of Sadie in his arms. “After that, I thought we could run up to the stairwell where we hatched the idea that changed our lives.”

  “And had our first kiss. Three of them, actually.” She sighed. “Good times in that stairwell.”

  “Then I thought we’d drop by your grandparents’ guesthouse and maybe climb a tree, since I never got to.”

  “A tree? Why?”

  “Because…” He slid his fingers through her hair and lightly pushed some over her shoulder to see even more
of her face. “It was my willingness to climb a tree that made you fall in love with me, or so you told this town.”

  She laughed. “It might have still been lust at that point, but yes.”

  “And then I was going to bring you right back here, to our pal Thad. So he could be our witness.”

  She studied him for a moment, curious. “Witness to what?”

  He angled his head and gave her a look. “You really don’t know?”

  A soft flush rose on her cheeks, so he suspected she did know. They’d talked around it for months—both knowing it was a “done deal,” but also that the deal hadn’t quite been done. Yet.

  He grazed her jawline with his thumb, lost in those golden-brown eyes. “I finally found it.”

  “Found…what?”

  “The one.”

  “Aww.” She squeezed him. “You’re the one for me, too.”

  “No, not that one.” He eased back, releasing his grip on her. “This one.” He reached into his pocket and slowly pulled out the small box. “I had to do so much research to find the right one. It had to be perfect, with as many facets as you have and the same kind of sparkle.”

  “Oh, Connor.” She stared at the box, then looked up at him. “Was it…grown?”

  “Grown by the hand of God,” he whispered. “And it took Him a million years, but that’s how long it will last. It’s the one. For you.”

  She put her hand over the closed box, her fingers trembling. Or maybe his were, because his whole body sort of vibrated with the rightness of this.

  For a long moment, they said nothing, but looked into each other’s eyes. “I’ve asked twice, Sadie.”

  “And I’ve said yes twice,” she replied on a laugh. “I kind of thought we were already…well, we’ve certainly never gotten unengaged.”

  “But it was never as real as it is now.” He glanced around, happy that all the people were distant and distracted with their own lives. He didn’t want an audience. He didn’t want family or townsfolk to applaud the moment. He didn’t want anyone but the woman he loved with his whole heart and soul.

  Wordlessly, he lowered himself to one knee and watched her shoulders shudder as she took in a soft breath. He took a mental picture of Sadie’s beautiful face, memorizing the joy in her eyes and the certainty there, too.