by K. J. Emrick
“Is that so, Mister Tinker? Seems you were pretty sure this was going to happen, weren’t you?”
He gave her a wink. “I had a feeling.”
Colby reached around and undid the latch on the security gate and now she and Zane were plopping themselves on the floor around Cha-Cha, scratching his neck and his belly to the puppy’s great delight. He yipped and hummed and wagged his tail hard enough that his hind paws slid back and forth on the floor in time to the wild motion, his claws making a schlick-schlick sound on the linoleum.
Darcy slid her arm around Jon’s waist as they watched their children. There was no denying that they were in love already. It looked like the Tinker-Sweet household had just grown by one.
Darcy laid her head against Jon’s shoulder. “Is Bruce okay?”
“He’s upset, like I said,” he answered softly. “I know how he feels. If I was in his shoes…”
She gave him a sideways hug. “I love you, Jon Tinker. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You’d better not. Not for a lot of years, anyway.” He returned her hug fiercely. “Bruce wanted you to come over tomorrow. He wants to sort through Helen’s things but, well, I think it’s just too much for him. He knows you and Helen were good friends and I think he really wants someone there who can share his pain, you know? I told him I’d ask you, but I wasn’t going to promise without talking to you first.”
Darcy appreciated that. She was upset as it was and going through her friend’s things so soon after her death… she took a deep breath. “I’ll do it. Helen would want me there to help Bruce through this, I’m sure of it.”
“Good. I’ll call him later to let him know.”
“You and I need to talk later, too. I want you to tell me everything, Jon. I want to know the details of how Helen passed away.”
“I will. Promise. Thankfully, there’s not much to tell. It was natural causes, Darcy. She died in her sleep sometime overnight.”
Darcy nodded, because there was nothing to say to that. Of the ways there were to die, that might just be the one everyone looked forward to most. A peaceful passing away from this world, and into the next.
An unexpected sob hitched her next breath. Jon held her tighter while Darcy snuffled and got control of herself. She wasn’t going to cry in front of the kids. Not when they were so happy with the new addition to their family. Her sadness was her own, which was why she went into her bedroom earlier to be by herself. She didn’t want to unload it onto Colby and Zane. Although, she might just let Jon comfort her later, when they were alone in their room and he could hold her while the tears cried themselves out.
For now, there was lunch to think about, and mini golf, and the question of what on Earth they were going to do with a puppy while they went out for a few hours.
Well. One thing at a time.
“Okay, you two,” Darcy said to the kids. “Let’s leave Cha-Cha alone for now and get ready to eat, okay? Colby can you help Zane upstairs so both of you can wash your hands?”
“Aw, Mom. It’s just a dog.” She held up her palms. “See? Perfectly clean.”
“He is a dog, and that’s why you need to wash your hands after you play with him. Dogs aren’t always as clean as cats.”
Cha-Cha lifted his head up, cocking it to one side, his ear trailing on the floor. His big brown eyes were staring right at Darcy. It was like he could understand her. Well, let him listen. Tiptoe listened in on their conversations all the time, even if she only paid attention to about half of what Darcy told her. Couldn’t a puppy do the same?
From the corner of her eye, she saw Tiptoe sliding in from the living room to jump up on the counter. It was an easy leap for her. She made it look so effortless, like she did it all the time, even though she knew she wasn’t supposed to be up there.
She looked down at the dog, her eyes wide and unblinking.
Then she turned those eyes on Darcy.
With a twitch of her whiskers, Tiptoe asked a single question.
How could you? My dad isn’t gone for…and you bring in this…how could you?
Then she turned and jumped away, dashing upstairs.
“What was that?” Jon asked her.
Darcy grimaced.
A bad start. That’s what that was.
Chapter 3
Over in the corner of the bedroom, in the little round dog bed Bruce had sent with Jon, Cha-Cha was curled up in a ball, all legs and floppy ears. What had started as a gentle snore had gotten gradually louder. Now it was something like a muffled buzz saw.
“What breed of dog is he?” Darcy asked. She was sitting up with the pillows stacked behind her, arms wrapped around her knees in her nightgown. “He isn’t a purebred. More like one of those dogs you see on cartoons. You know? The ones who are always tripping over their own ears. Loveable, but a little bit of a goof.”
“Bruce was explaining it to me,” Jon said behind a sleepy yawn. He was on his back next to her, and although he was tired it was obvious he couldn’t sleep, either. “Apparently, our new dog is a mix between a Basset Hound and a Labrador Retriever. They call it a Bassador.”
“A what now?”
“A Bassador. Like an ambassador, but without the ‘am.’”
Darcy had never heard of such a thing. Mixed breeds could often produce really amazing results, like the Labradoodle and the Puggle. Those were designer dog breeds however, and Cha-Cha was certainly no designer dog. He was just a pup who seemed to love life.
He was tired too. They couldn’t very well leave a puppy alone in a new house when they had gone out to mini golf earlier. Dogs needed to be walked, and to be kept off the furniture, and told when it wasn’t okay to chew on things. Which in Darcy’s opinion was always.
So, they had decided to bring him along with them.
Cha-Cha had ridden in the backseat between Colby and Zane. They had lavished him with attention the whole way, and the puppy had been thrilled to see the world rushing by outside the windows. At first, they thought they could maybe leave Cha-Cha in the car while they played golf for an hour or two. It was a mild day out and with the windows open several inches it was going to be plenty cool in there. The plan was for either Darcy or Jon to come back and check on him every fifteen minutes or so.
But they had no sooner closed the door on him than he had started whimpering and whining and pressing his nose up to the windows. He didn’t want to be left behind. Jon didn’t want his upholstery shredded by frantic puppy dog claws, either.
Darcy smiled as she remembered how Zane had begged for his new friend to come with him. “Cha wants to come, Momma.” After another doggie whuff, Zane added, “And he’s thirsty.”
There had been no way they could leave Cha-Cha behind after that. The big-pawed pup had followed them to each hole. He chased the little balls whenever anyone hit one, knocking more than a few of them way off course. He drank from a little stream that ran next to the outdoor course. He ran after a bumblebee, until one of his ears flapped across his face and blinded him. He tripped with a yelp, and rolled back onto his feet, and sat there smiling like nothing at all had happened while the bee buzzed happily away.
Jon had caught Darcy suppressing a chuckle at Cha-Cha’s antics. She stuck her tongue out at him, and then took her turn on the seventh hole, hitting her ball through the waterfall. Yes, she had to admit the little puppy was cute. Maybe he wouldn’t be such a bad addition to the family after all.
Looking at him now, curled up and content over in the corner, Darcy was glad he was here. It could be good for them to be a two-pet family again. As long as Tiptoe learned to be okay with it, she didn’t know why it couldn’t stay this way.
And it made her happy knowing that she was doing it for Helen.
“I can’t sleep,” she told Jon, reaching over to rest her hand on his hip.
His hand found hers and held it in the gloom of the single lamp they’d left on for Cha-Cha. “Me either. It’s been a long day. How long did it take to get Colby to lie do
wn?”
“Not long. I gave her some aspirin for that headache and she was out almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.”
“Too much running around at the mini golf place. Tired her right out.”
Darcy nodded, although she thought his eyes were closed. The kids were in bed, and the silence in the house was deep. It was the perfect time for them to just be with each other, and talk. “Are you awake enough to tell me what happened? With Helen, I mean?”
He took a breath, and let it out, holding her hand tighter. “Bruce came home late last night. Well, this morning, really. He got caught up with helping a friend and then when he finally got home it was almost sunrise. He went into their room quietly because Helen was still in bed and he thought she was asleep. It wasn’t until he tried to wake her up and say good morning that he realized she wasn’t sleeping.”
Darcy clenched her jaw tight. Poor Bruce! To know that Helen had passed away when he wasn’t even there. Living with the guilt of knowing that he would have been there with her and could maybe have even done something, if he hadn’t been late coming home.
“There were no signs of foul play,” Jon went on. “No marks, no blood, and nothing disturbed in the house. No robbery. No break in. Certainly no motive. Everyone loved Helen. Everyone always has. The coroner is going to do a routine examination just because she died alone, but there’s no reason to think this is anything other than a tragedy. I mean, she wasn’t exactly young.”
“No, I suppose not.”
They were quiet for a while, even though Darcy’s mind kept going, filling in the spaces between Jon’s words. Bruce and Helen lived alone. They didn’t have any children. Until today, Darcy hadn’t even known that she had a dog. Not that Cha-Cha would make much of a witness. He couldn’t talk, and even if he did there obviously wasn’t much he could tell them. Helen had laid down in bed, and gone to sleep, and never woken up again.
So that was it. The passing of a good friend, with no fanfare, and no drama. Just the normal end of life that everyone was going to face eventually. It wasn’t a bad thing, it was just… sad. In a way, it was almost refreshing to know that someone’s life could end here in Misty Hollow without it involving a mystery.
Jon brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles, probably sensing her whirlwind of emotions. “I know Bruce is really going to appreciate you being there tomorrow. The arrangements for the wake will be next week, I think. He was a little too upset to talk about that part when I was there. He just doesn’t want to do everything by himself.”
“I’ll be glad to do it with him.” She liked the way his lips felt on her skin. “Nobody should be alone at a time like this. Is someone staying with Bruce tonight?”
“Pastor Phin offered to stay with him.”
“Oh, good. I like Phin. He’s good people.”
“Yeah,” Jon agreed, kissing her wrist this time. “We’ve got a few of those here in Misty Hollow.”
“Like you, Mister Tinker.”
“And you, Mrs. Sweet.”
Pulling his hand over to her mouth, she kissed the tip of his finger. She felt the way his body reacted with a little shiver. It made her smile.
She kissed the next finger, and the next, and laid herself down next to him. His arm wrapped itself around her, pulling her into his bare chest. His legs tangled with hers. She giggled, and kissed his neck, and just let the love she had for this man overwhelm her.
A sudden weight dropped down on the bed, and Tiptoe made a soft little mewl, like she was asking if this was a bad time for her to join them.
In the dark, Darcy saw Jon’s eyes staring into hers. There was an amusement in them, mixed with a frustration that Darcy knew all too well. Having your more intimate moments interrupted was just one of the many joys of living with animal friends.
Hearing a cat in the room, Cha-Cha lifted his head up with a snort. His ears perked up when he saw Tiptoe. His tongue fell out of the side of his mouth, and he panted like he thought it must be time to play.
Tiptoe looked down at him and flicked an ear. Then she curled up into a tight ball, and put her tail across her nose, hiding most of her face while her eyes continued to stare at him.
This room was hers, she was saying, and they were not friends.
Sharing took time. Smudge had been a little hesitant about boundaries back when they first brought Colby home as a baby, as Darcy remembered. Tiptoe and Cha-Cha could become fast friends, given a little more time. At least, that was Darcy’s hope.
Cha-Cha whoofed at Tiptoe.
Tiptoe sighed and closed her eyes.
Well. Given a lot more time.
Jon chuckled as he shook his head. “I guess we’ll continue our little moment some other night. When our room is quieter.”
Darcy did a really bad job of hiding her disappointment. “We could always let the puppy stay in Zane’s room like he wanted.”
“Uh, no. I don’t think so. We’ve got enough trouble getting him to go to sleep some nights as it is. I don’t think three stories and a made-up song are going to cut it when there’s a puppy in the room to distract him. Besides, Cha-Cha’s going to need to go out to the bathroom sometime in the middle of the night and he’d wake Zane up if he was in his room. Then Zane would come to wake us up, and probably wake Colby up in the process. This way, he’s only going to wake up you or me.” He turned over on his side, tucking himself under the blankets. “You get first shift, by the way. Goodnight.”
Oh for Pete’s sake, Darcy thought to herself. It hadn’t been her idea to bring the dog home! With a sigh, she tucked herself in. She might as well get used to it. They were a dog family now.
Down at her feet, Tiptoe stretched, and Darcy corrected herself. They were a dog and a cat family.
If Jon brought home a bird, she was putting her foot down.
The house where Bruce and Helen had lived together was a nice two-story residence on one of Misty Hollow’s many side streets. Helen had been very proud of it. It was one of the first houses that had ever been built in the town and now it claimed three acres of nicely trimmed lawn and hedgerows that marked the edges of the property. In the summertime there were always flowers on the bushes dotted across the lawn. A ceramic birdbath in the middle of the front yard would spout water in an arc that attracted birds of every color.
Now it was November, and the fountain was quiet. The bushes had dropped their flowers weeks ago. The trees had lost their leaves, and their bare branches stirred in a morning breeze that was chilly enough for Darcy to see her own breath. She was glad she’d chosen to break out her winter coat today. Something had told her things were going to get colder.
It was the perfect setting to mourn the loss of her friend. She didn’t have any tears this morning. Just an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach.
She parked her car in the driveway next to Bruce’s red convertible. She remembered how Helen would make fun of him for buying that car. She would always call it his “second midlife crisis.” Bruce would just laugh and say that a man needed a little adventure in his life, even when he was too old to go on adventures.
Pastor Phin’s modest four-door was there, too. He must still be here from spending the night to keep Bruce company.
Those two had been absolutely perfect together. As sad as it was to know that Helen was gone, it was just as sad to see that what she and Bruce had together was gone as well. At least for now, until they could meet again in the next place.
She went up the front steps and raised her hand to ring the doorbell. The chime went off inside, three happy notes that repeated twice. Any other day it would have been almost cheerful. Today it sounded almost mocking. Darcy made a note for herself to knock next time.
When the door opened it was Pastor Phin who was standing there. Phineas McCord had arrived in Misty Hollow nearly ten years ago to minister to the spiritual needs of the people here. Tall and lanky, he was bundled up in a heavy blue sweater that looked shades paler against his dark skin. His
smile touched his deep brown eyes. He was a good man, and Darcy counted him as a dear friend.
“Darcy, so good to see you,” he said, in that resonant voice of his that he used for Sunday sermons. “Thank you for coming over to be with Bruce in this difficult time.”
Darcy didn’t know what to say to that. What did you ever say when a friend has died but you and everyone else has to go on living? Instead of trying to come up with something meaningful, she just smiled and shook his outstretched hand.
“Yes,” he said, pursing his lips, “I understand. It’s a sad thing. A truly sad thing. I think, perhaps, that you and I know it’s not an ending. Bruce needs to know that, as well. There is more to life than our short time here. I tried to speak to Bruce about that last night. Don’t know if he really heard me or not. It’s hard to hear words of hope while you’re so full of grief.”
“That’s true, Phin.” Darcy clasped her hands together, suddenly not sure what to do with them. “I’m not sure what I feel about this. Angry, I think.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That so?”
“She didn’t deserve this. She deserved a long life, and happiness.”
“As do we all,” he agreed. “I bet if we could ask Helen, though, she’d tell us she was happy. Her time here might not have been as long as others, but I knew her these last few years. She was as happy as anyone I’ve ever known.”
Darcy supposed that was true. They were just more words of comfort, when she got right down to it, and they didn’t do much to still her feelings that Helen’s death just wasn’t fair.
It wasn’t that he didn’t mean what he said. She knew he did. His own family history was a tale of sadness and loss. When he spoke to the congregation about the pain of moving on, he wasn’t just mouthing the words. He’d lived them.
That still didn’t make her feel better.
When she didn’t return his smile, he sighed. “I’m afraid I can’t stay any longer. I’m just one pastor with many people who need my help.” He ran a hand over his short black hair. “Tell Bruce I’ll come back and check on him later, won’t you? Thank you again, Darcy.”
