by B R Snow
Of particular interest to me was Gerald, the Finance Minister, who was a business associate and close personal friend of my mother. We had a somewhat rocky relationship based on a situation that had occurred during our previous visit. I considered his somewhat loose interpretation of the rules about mixing personal business with the responsibilities of a government minister disturbing, while he considered those rules merely suggested guidelines as opposed to hard and fast caveats. They were, as he liked to remind me, just something that came with the job and needed to be carefully managed to ensure that the economy continued to move forward. Part of the cost of doing business, Gerald liked to say, and an important part of the development process. Although, when pressed, he would concede a highly profitable one.
But despite his tendency to bend the rules in his and his business associates favor, as well as line his own pockets in the process, on a personal level, I liked the guy a lot. He had a permanent smile and a booming laugh and seemed to be the sort of person who, if you were in trouble, would give you the shirt off his back. And then, as my mother was quick to point out, take back two of yours in the process.
Gerald was talking to another man, and they were sipping what I assumed to be Mudslides, a popular drink I’d developed a fondness for. The other man, gray-haired and distinguished, had to be in his late sixties, and he was smiling in my direction as Gerald pointed me out from across the lawn. Then he waved me over, and I walked toward him enjoying the feel of the soft, cool grass against my bare feet.
“Hello, Gerald,” I said, going in for a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Suzy,” he boomed. “It’s so good to see you. I guess I need to stay on my toes now that you’re down here, right?”
“I’ve found I only need to stay on my toes when I’m in it up to my neck, Gerald,” I said, giving him a coy smile.
“Didn’t I tell you she was a firecracker?” Gerald said to the other man. “Suzy, I’d like to introduce you to Dr. Oliver Couch.”
“Dr. Couch?” I said, smiling at him. “Let me guess, psychiatrist, right?”
Although I was pretty sure he’d heard the joke a hundred times, he laughed long and hard.
“Most clever,” he said. “It’s so nice to meet you. Gerald has told me many wonderful things about you. And Merry Christmas.”
“Same to you,” I said. “What sort of doctor are you?”
“These days I spend most of my time as a general physician, but I do find myself in surgery from time to time. Mostly hearts.”
“You’re a heart surgeon?” I said, impressed.
“He’s a magician when it comes to hearts,” Gerald said. “And if mine ever starts giving me trouble, he’s the guy I want working on it.”
“He’s just being kind,” Dr. Couch said, glancing at the Finance Minister. “But treating Gerald’s heart problems might be a bit tricky because it would take forever to find it.”
“Oh, so it’s going to be one of those days, is it?” Gerald said, laughing. “In addition to his other duties, Oliver is also the Chief Medical Officer at the hospital just down the road.”
“Really?” I said, my neurons firing. “You wouldn’t know the status of a woman who was brought in earlier today, would you?”
“Do you mean the young woman who was rescued from the water by a dog?” he said, raising an eyebrow at me.
“That’s the one.”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” he said. “I heard the call for an ambulance come in, and since I was close by at the time, I headed straight to the hospital. We’re very light-staffed on holidays, so I thought I might be able to help.”
“And?”
“She’s fine,” he said, smiling. “She was severely dehydrated, but after a couple of hours on an IV, she perked right up. We rechecked her vitals, scolded her severely for doing something as stupid as getting lost overnight on the water in a kayak, then sent her on her way.”
“That’s great,” I said. “I’m glad to hear she’s…did you just say you sent her on her way? As in discharged?”
“Yes,” Dr. Couch said, nodding. “About two hours ago.” He noticed the odd look I was giving him. “What?”
“It just seems odd. When we saw her on the beach, she looked like she was at death’s door.”
“That was the dehydration,” he said. “But as I said, as soon as we got fluids in her, she perked right up. All her vitals were perfect when we let her go. If they hadn’t been, she’d still be there.”
“Yes, I’m sure,” I said, frowning. “Did she happen to mention her dog?”
“Her dog?” Dr. Couch said. “No, I don’t believe she did. At least, not to me.”
“That’s odd. Did she say where she was going?”
“All she said was that she needed to get out of the hospital as soon as possible since it was Christmas Day, and she had somewhere to go. And because it is Christmas, we did everything we could to make sure she didn’t spend it alone in the hospital.”
“Did she mention who she was going to visit? You know, a family member. Maybe a husband or boyfriend?”
“Again, I don’t believe she did,” Dr. Couch said. “Excuse me for asking, but why all the questions?”
“Force of habit, primarily,” I said, shrugging.
Gerald laughed. Dr. Couch frowned and glanced back and forth at us confused.
“Suzy has a reputation for being a bit…I’m gonna go with inquisitive.”
I made a face at Gerald, then focused on the doctor.
“I’m asking because we have her dog.”
“I see,” Dr. Couch said. “I’m surprised she didn’t mention it.”
“Yeah, me too,” I said.
“Well, I’m sure she’ll show up at some point looking for it,” Gerald said. “I need a refill. Can I bring you another, Oliver? Suzy?”
“Yes, thanks so much, Gerald,” Dr. Couch said, handing him his empty glass.
“No, I’m good, thanks,” I said, still frowning.
If it had been me, one of the first things I would do after regaining consciousness would be to ask about where my dog was and how it was doing. And I was very surprised that the woman had been released from the hospital so soon after being admitted with a serious case of dehydration. But I reminded myself that I was in the Cayman Islands and that things ran differently down here than they did back at home. And perhaps the hospitals weren’t as worried about generating revenue or possibly getting sued than those in the States. I was pretty steamed about the prospect that the woman could have taken off without even trying to find out where her dog was. But given the ordeal she’d been through, I decided to lighten up a bit and reserve judgment for a few days until she’d had some time to fully recover and retrace her steps. Eventually, I finally decided, she would show up looking for the King Charles.
“Are you okay?” Dr. Couch said softly as he studied my face.
“Me? I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
“You just seemed to drift off for a few moments,” he said.
“Oh, that,” I said, waving it off. “Don’t worry about that. I do it all the time.”
“Interesting.”
“Not really.”
“Okay,” he said, laughing and shaking his head. “So, tell me about this dog that saved that woman’s life.”
“We were walking along the beach, Captain spotted them, then just swam out and brought them back in to shore. It was incredible to watch.”
“Is the dog around?”
“I’m sure he’s here somewhere,” I said, looking around the lawn. “There he is.”
Captain was off by himself on his back, rolling on the grass with all four paws in the air. He was snorting with delight, then he hopped to his feet and sneezed loud enough to be heard across the lawn.
“A Newfoundland, right?” Dr. Couch said, admiring the massive dog.
“Yes, he certainly is. Gorgeous, huh?”
“He’s magnificent. But he must b
e hot in that fur coat.”
“Well, we keep a close eye on all the dogs when it comes to the heat. They only get to go to the beach in the morning or around sunset. The rest of the time they’re at home with the pool and air conditioning.”
“I see,” Dr. Couch said, nodding. “So, he’s adjusting well to life down here?”
“Well, based on what we watched him do this morning, I’d have to say he’s off to a good start.”
Chapter 5
“Hey, Mom. What’s that thing sitting on the edge of the pool?” I said from the comfort of my recliner.
“Nice try, darling,” my mother said, shaking her head at me. “You’re off your game tonight. You’ll have to do much better than that.”
“Did you tell her?” I said, glancing over at Josie.
“Not me,” she said, dribbling ice cream all over her blouse. “Dang it.” She sat up and dabbed at the stain with her napkin. “I almost made it through a meal without spilling.”
“Chef Claire?” I said, glancing over at her. She was carefully picking a chicken breast apart to make sure it was free of bones and feeding small pieces to all four dogs that were giving her their undivided attention.
“I didn’t say a word,” she said, rubbing Dente’s head as the dog gently took a piece of chicken out of her hand.
“I overheard you, darling,” my mother said, sitting down at the table next to Chef Claire. “Throwing your mother in the pool on Christmas? Ho, ho, ho. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“Told you,” Josie said, laughing.
“You deserved it, Mom,” I said, ignoring Josie. “Some of those cracks about what I was wearing last night were uncalled for.”
“Oh, you mean that delightful Christmas-camping ensemble you had on? I think I saw Larry the Cable Guy modeling it in the Dick’s Sporting Goods fall catalog.”
Josie and Chef Claire laughed way too long, and I scowled at them. But I let it go and focused on my bowl of ice cream. My mother grabbed a chicken breast and began pulling it apart. The number of hovering dogs increased to six as my mom’s two basset-bloodhound mixes, Summer and Winter, inched closer to the action.
“Great party, Mrs. C.,” Chef Claire said, feeding Captain a piece of chicken.
“Thanks, dear,” my mother said. “And as soon as the last of the guests hit the road, we’ll open presents.”
“It’s pretty late, Mom,” I said, setting my empty bowl aside. “We can do it in the morning if you want to wait.”
“Not open presents on Christmas Day?” she said, frowning. “It doesn’t seem right.”
“It’s fine by me,” Josie said.
“Me too,” Chef Claire chimed in.
“Yeah, let’s wait,” I said. “It’ll be like having two Christmases.”
“Okay,” my mother said, shrugging. Then she glanced across the lawn at a couple and two young girls who were sitting by themselves at a table chatting and laughing. “Did you guys know about those two?”
All three of us shook our heads as we studied the couple.
“No,” I said, smiling as I stared across the lawn. “I almost fell over earlier when I realized what was going on.”
“Me too,” Josie said.
“Good for them,” Chef Claire said. “I think they make a cute couple.”
Rocco, our head bartender from C’s in Clay Bay who had volunteered to come to Grand Cayman to help us get the new restaurant ready for its grand opening, slipped his arm over the shoulder of the woman sitting next to him. She rested her head against him and smiled contentedly. Teresa Williams, the woman who was running our new animal shelter, laughed at something one of her daughters said and nudged Rocco with her elbow.
“Well, Teresa sure doesn’t have to worry about feeling safe,” Chef Claire said, laughing.
Josie and I, along with my mother, laughed along. Rocco, a man with a past that included several years working the dark side of the street for a crime boss, was not someone to be trifled with. And despite the thousands of people who came to eat and drink at C’s each year, we rarely had a problem with unruly patrons. And when we did, Rocco had a gift for making sure it didn’t last long. Now completely reformed and leading the straight life, Rocco had become an integral member of our extended family and did a great job as our bar manager. But as I watched him interact with Teresa and her daughters, I realized that he had changed again. Instead of merely being happy, he seemed totally content, at peace with himself and the world that surrounded him. To be honest, as happy as I was for both of them, I had to admit feeling a touch of envy.
“Look at him,” Josie said as if reading my mind. “He’s a goner.”
“Yeah,” I said, grinning without taking my eyes off them. “And she’s right there with him.”
“I thought I noticed something the last time I was down here,” Chef Claire said. “But I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure.”
Chef Claire had made a couple of trips during the summer and fall to check on the progress of the new restaurant. Things hadn’t been moving at a pace we liked, but as soon as Rocco arrived, work began to get done on time, and the construction crew we had hired developed what Rocco called…my mind went blank. I glanced over at Chef Claire who was feeding the last of the chicken to the dogs.
“What’s the expression Rocco uses to describe a strong work ethic?”
“A lavish focus on the task at hand,” Chef Claire said.
“That’s a nice way of saying, ‘Get it done if you don’t want your thumbs broken.’ He wouldn’t have to tell me twice,” Josie said, laughing.
“Shhhh,” I said, grinning. “Here they come.”
The two young girls led the way and sprinted across the lawn then dropped to the grass near the pool as the dogs greeted them. Soon they were rolling around on the lawn laughing as they fought off all six. Captain placed a paw on one of the girls’ chest, pinning her to the ground as he licked her face. She squealed with delight and tried to roll away. Al and Dente, their tails wagging furiously, were draped across the other girl and she almost disappeared from view.
“Hey, Rocco, Teresa,” I said, nodding at the pile of dogs surrounding the two girls. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Teresa said, holding Rocco’s hand. “They love it.”
“Camila, Dalila?” my mother said to the two girls. “I think Santa left some presents here for you. They’re in a bag under the tree if you’d like to go grab it.”
The two girls, nine and ten and spitting images of their mother, climbed out from underneath the dogs and made a beeline across the lawn toward the house.
“You didn’t need to do that,” Teresa said, shaking her head at my mother.
“You let us worry about what we need to do, dear,” my mother said, gently placing a hand on her arm. “Oh, how I envy you.” My mother shot me a quick glance to make sure I was paying attention. “Those two girls are incredible. What I wouldn’t give…”
“Please, don’t start, Mom,” I said, shaking my head.
“Now you know what you can give your mom next Christmas,” Josie said.
“Yeah, that would definitely beat a pair of socks,” Chef Claire said, grinning at me.
I scowled at them then turned to Rocco, desperate for a new topic of conversation. “What time do you need us there tomorrow?”
“Well, they’re finishing up the painting in the morning,” Rocco said. “Feel free to stop by after one if that works for you.”
I glanced at Josie and Chef Claire. Josie nodded. Chef Claire shrugged.
“I’ll be there by eight,” Chef Claire said. “So whenever you finish up with Teresa, just stop by.”
“I can’t wait for you to see the shelter,” Teresa said. “I still can’t believe it.”
We’d met Teresa during our last trip when we’d been looking for the owners of some lost dogs we’d found on the beach during a major storm. My mother’s dogs were actually siblings from the litter of puppies we’d rescu
ed, and the puppies’ parents, a male bloodhound and female basset hound, were now permanent residents at the Doggy Inn back home. At the time, Teresa had been trying to operate an animal shelter out of her home, and the storm had pretty much destroyed the property. Shortly after that, we’d asked Teresa to run the new animal shelter we were having built near our new restaurant. As far as new businesses went, and as our accountant had been very quick to remind us, the shelter, from a financial perspective, would undoubtedly be a loser with a capital L. But since making any money from it was way down our list of priorities, we’d set it up as a non-profit and my mother had put the squeeze on several of her local friends for donations. And since Josie and I had no plans to take a salary, the place would be able to sustain itself for the foreseeable future.
Teresa, previously teetering on the edge financially, would finally be able to relax and take care of her daughters without fear of bankruptcy, and a whole bunch of animals would have a place to live and get the medical care they required. We knew that our new business venture would never rival that of a Wall Street leveraged buyout or hostile takeover, but I’d put the smiles on our faces up against any of the Greed Heads when it came to job satisfaction and personal fulfillment.
But I digress.
Camila and Dalila came out of the house, each of them holding one handle of the large bag my mother had placed all their gifts in. The dogs approached, sniffed the bag, and trailed at their heels as they struggled to make their way across the lawn.
“Hey, girls,” Rocco called out. “Why don’t you just leave the bag there and we’ll grab it when we head to the car?”
The two girls looked at each other, decided Rocco’s suggestion made a lot of sense, then set the bag down on the grass and dashed toward us.
“You guys ready to go home?” Teresa said, hugging both girls when they arrived.
