Spring Forward

by Catherine Anderson

  Crystal could not remember ever feeling so relieved. She had regained Tuck’s approval, and at that moment, nothing mattered more to her. If he got caught and was evicted, she’d figure out what to do. Her business wasn’t as important as her grandfather. If caring for him plunged her into bankruptcy, she could start over again, rising from the ashes like a phoenix. When she said her final farewell to this man, she wanted to know that she’d been as much of a rock for him as he’d been for her.

  Their roles had reversed. As she looked up at his face, lined like a road map with signs of age, the realization settled like a rock in the pit of her stomach. He wasn’t the strong one now. He could no longer withstand a hard gale. She needed to be the tree that propped him up. And she would be, because he had once been her tree, the only support she’d had.

  “Copenhagen?” He grabbed the roll, broke it open, and left the kitchen, speaking over his shoulder. “I’ll keep out one can and hide all the others. I can’t wait to have a pinch.”

  Tuck returned a moment later and got a plastic cup from the cupboard. He stuffed a crumpled section of paper towel into the bottom. “My version of a spittoon. Not much chance an aide won’t notice it, though.”

  “If you chew only in here,” Crystal said, “I don’t think Patricia can actually evict you. But until I hear back from the attorney and know for sure, try to keep the cup out of sight.”

  After rinsing the pitcher, she poured the half gallon of whiskey into it and added three tea bags. Then she got two glasses from the cupboard, measured out two fingers for each of them, and handed him his.

  “Cheers, Tuck. Since we’re making up after our first big fight, let’s take it straight.”

  He clicked his tumbler against hers. “To us, baby girl. We’ll always be a team.”

  Crystal winced, but only inwardly. She’d forgotten for a brief time that she and Tuck had joined forces long ago, and stepping away from that now might mean the destruction of them both. Without her, he could no longer make it, and whether she liked to admit it or not, she’d been leaning on him since she was eleven years old.

  They sat in his living room to sip the whiskey. Crystal told him Marsha had offered to hire on as his caregiver until nearly three every afternoon. “Her job here is easy. She mostly sits. And now that she’s divorced, she has no one at home. She says she’ll be happy with ten dollars an hour. That’s really reasonable.”

  Tuck nodded. “Yep, and she’s a nice gal. That’s a plus.” He shrugged. “But there’s no hurry. I’m likin’ it here a little better, all of a sudden like.”

  Crystal nearly dropped her drink. The amber liquid lurched, and she managed to right the glass just in time. “What did you say?”

  Tuck winked at her. “I met someone interestin’, and she orders special dinners. I figure I can afford to do that, too. And—well, I don’t know. I’m just not champin’ at the bit like I was to get out of this joint.”

  Crystal mulled that over. “When did you meet this lady?”

  “Last night. She’s a corker, and I really like her. I’m havin’ dinner at her place. And she keeps fine brandy under lock and key. The lady knows how to live it up. Maybe after I start orderin’ my own stuff, I’ll have you both over for dinner some night.”

  “That would be fun. I’d enjoy meeting her.” Crystal went on to tell him about Tanner’s harrowing experience with Rip. Tuck laughed and slapped his knee. “It wasn’t funny,” Crystal said. “He got sunburned sitting on the porch half naked for six hours, and he missed his little girl’s play.”

  Tuck’s smile faded. “Damned dog. Tanner’s a dotin’ father. He couldn’t have been happy about missin’ Tori’s performance.”

  “I’m sure he wasn’t. I withdrew my complaint against him, by the way. I don’t think it made much of a difference, but I’m hoping he may eventually get his Crystal Falls route back.”

  “If he doesn’t, he doesn’t. Everything happens for a reason.”

  Crystal didn’t share that opinion. The way she saw it, life was a crapshoot.

  “I hired Pete Ramsey to be your legal advocate,” she told him. “As long as you’re here, I’ll keep him on retainer. He’s double-checking the Oregon statutes, but basically he says Patricia needs a reality check. He sees no reason why Rip can’t come for visits on a leash and be turned loose in your room. He’s going to call the doctor you’ve been assigned here and ask him to write a prescription for dog visits.”

  “You think the doctor’ll do that?”

  “You love Rip, and you miss him. Patricia says other residents have pet allergies, but is that true? And if so, Rip passing through the building on a leash shouldn’t make anyone have a reaction. I’m going to speak with Patricia about it before I leave today.” Crystal paused. “Pete also plans to speak with the doctor about your beer and chew. He says you aren’t the first resident who has had problems with Patricia. He’s heard she sings a different tune when a lawyer gets involved. Oregon doesn’t ban the use of alcohol in assisted living facilities. Some places don’t allow it in the common areas, because of liability risks, but a facility can’t legally forbid a resident to imbibe inside a private apartment unless your use of alcohol somehow infringes upon the rights of others or affects your need for personal care. Say beer gives you diarrhea, and you can’t clean yourself up. That requires more work from the facility staff. In that event, your bill for care goes up, or you have to give up the beer, your choice.” She gestured around her. “Pete says this is your home, just like if you lived in a house. You’re entitled to your privacy and to enjoy your personal pleasures within the confines of this apartment.”

  “So why didn’t you bring me beer?”

  Crystal grinned. “I’m waiting for a prescription, just in case Pete’s wrong. Same goes for hiding the whiskey and chew. Be sneaky for a couple more days.”

  Tuck chuckled. “Uh-oh, Red, your Irish is showin’. You remind me of your grandma. Patricia might regret messin’ with you.”

  “Yes, she may.” Aiming to keep the conversation light, she added, “If Rip gets to visit, we’ll have to hold on to him when a nurse comes in with your meds. You told me once that he went crazy at a vet’s office when he saw people in scrubs. He must think they’re uniforms.”

  Tuck guffawed. “Did I ever tell you how much he hates stethoscopes?”

  Crystal had heard the story so many times that she’d lost count, but she settled back, happy to listen to Tuck tell it one more time.

  * * *

  Minutes later Crystal didn’t bother to knock on Patricia’s office door. She just walked in and sat in the visitor chair. The administrator wore a dark blue dress this afternoon, but otherwise she looked the same, her expression stony, not a hair out of place. She met Crystal’s gaze with unflinching animosity.

  “I’ve hired Pete Ramsey to be my grandfather’s legal advocate,” Crystal told her. “In the future he will be here on a moment’s notice, night or day, if Tuck is treated unfairly. He’s also contacting Tuck’s doctor here about writing a script for dog visits and Tuck’s personal pleasures, namely three cans of beer a night and Copenhagen. Not that Tuck needs a script for the latter items. But I’ve requested them just in case you ever dare to invade my grandfather’s apartment again. Tuck is over twenty-one years of age, and neither substance is illegal for an adult to use in Oregon.” Relaxing in the chair—or pretending to, anyway—Crystal crossed her legs. She studied the other woman, half expecting steam to come out her ears. “Have you ever heard the expression that a man’s home is his castle? Well, Tuck pays rent for his apartment, and Pete says your rules don’t apply to what Tuck does in the privacy of his own residence.”

  Patricia flattened her hands on the desk blotter and rose halfway from her chair. “How dare you challenge my authority?”

  Crystal swung her foot and smiled. “What do you plan to do, Patricia? Attack me? Sue me? Throw my grand
father out on the street? I allowed you to bully me the other night. It won’t happen again.” She lowered her foot to the floor and leaned forward on the chair, keeping her gaze locked with the other woman’s. “I am Tuck’s only next of kin. He’s estranged from my mother, his only child. That means I’m the person who has to stand up for him. Now that I’ve hired an attorney, do you really want to tangle with me?” Crystal paused for effect. “I’m ready for a fight. The next time anyone goes into my grandfather’s apartment and rifles through his personal effects, all hell is going to break loose. In case you’ve forgotten, he is a human being who has civil rights granted to him by our constitution and protected by our laws.”

  “You’re going to regret this.”

  “Maybe,” Crystal conceded, “but probably not. The attorney is going to send me copies of any prescriptions the physician writes for my grandfather. You are the facility administrator. I will continue to respect your authority, insofar as it goes, and I will ask Tuck to do the same. But you are not entitled to deny Tuck anything that a medical professional prescribes for him, and unless he somehow disturbs the peace, you are not entitled to say what he can or cannot do in his apartment.”

  “Watch me.”

  Crystal stood. “Oh, I will be watching, Patricia. Tuck may be old, but he’s still an individual with personal rights. If you deny him those, it will be interesting to see how it plays out in court.”

  “You can’t afford a long court battle!” Patricia cried.

  “Can’t I? The last time I checked my account balances, I had plenty of money, and you may be forgetting that Tuck sold a large cattle ranch in Idaho. He’ll help me financially. So it may be more appropriate to wonder if you can afford a long court battle. Especially if you lose. We’ll be asking for our attorney fees to be paid . . . in full.”

  Crystal left the office, resisting the urge to slam the door.

  * * *

  Once again wearing jeans, boots, and a T-shirt, Crystal shoveled turned earth over the wire she had laid along the perimeter of Tuck’s property. Rip’s collar was charged, and he’d gotten home from one of his adventures over two hours ago, staggering through the open gate to collapse on the grass and sleep. He had awakened only minutes ago and looked more like himself. The ravages of exhaustion had lost their hold. In a short while, she would put the collar on him, stand back, send him warning beeps with the remote when he got too close to the fence, and then hopefully be able to congratulate herself as the victor in this battle.

  Just as she finished covering the wire, she heard a vehicle park outside the fence. She looked up from her work to see a Courier Express van. Tanner piled out through the open side door and lifted a hand to her in greeting.

  “What are you doing here?” she called. “I didn’t order anything.” What a stupid thing to say to a man she couldn’t stop fantasizing about. “Not that you aren’t welcome to stop by. You’re Tuck’s friend. By extension, I guess that means you’re mine, too.”

  Tanner had a wide, easy grin that flashed white teeth and creased his lean cheeks. He held up his other hand to show her that he carried several toll cookies for Rip. Striding toward the gate with a masculine shift of his hips, he yelled back, “I couldn’t resist stopping by to see how the invisible fence is coming along. Thought I might help with the digging.”

  Crystal leaned the shovel against the fence and tucked her doffed work gloves into the waistband of her jeans. “I just finished burying the wire, but thank you for offering. Now all that’s left is to connect the wire to the controller in the pump house, put the collar on Rip, and see how it works.”

  Tanner, already through the gate, bent to give Rip a biscuit and then a friendly scratch behind the ears. Then he grinned and sauntered toward Crystal. It was nice to see him again, she realized. Even though he made her skin tingle when he looked at her, she also felt oddly relaxed. How could a guy electrify the air around a woman and send out tranquilizing vibes as well?

  “I can hardly wait.” He looked down at Rip, who bounced around his legs, acting completely reenergized now that he had rested. “Maybe an invisible fence will finally work on him.”

  Crystal wondered at that comment. “Has Rip worn an electronic collar prior to this?”

  Tanner gifted her with another grin. “Unfair question. Just hook up the wire and get the collar on him, and let’s see how it goes.”

  Crystal hurried out to the pump house. After connecting the perimeter wiring to the controller, she entered the house by the back door, grabbed Rip’s new collar and the remote control, then emerged onto the front veranda. When Rip ran up the steps snarling, she greeted him with a biscuit, and while he ate it, she fastened the collar around his neck. He’d lost his old one during one of his great escapes. Tuck insisted on collars being loose so the dog wouldn’t choke to death if he got hung up on something.

  Holding the remote, Crystal joined Tanner on the lawn. “The instructions call this the training period.” She showed him the remote. “See the button that says TONE? I’m supposed to watch Rip, and when he goes too close to the fence, I have to tell him no and give him a warning. It says it can take several times for the dog to realize he’ll receive correction from the collar if he doesn’t heed that sound.”

  “Uh-huh.” Tanner’s tone was dubious. She shot him a sharp look. He shrugged. “Don’t mind me. I just can’t see Rip being that easily defeated.”

  “So he has worn an electronic collar before,” she said.

  “A few. Tuck finally gave up.”

  Crystal’s stomach knotted. Had she just wasted a large amount of money? No, she decided. The cost of the fencing kit alone was telling. She’d paid for good quality, and that would prevail in the end. “Tuck’s a rusty old nail, remember. A Depression baby raised by parents who reused tinfoil. If he can spend less, he always does. Me, I’m different. I go for at least medium grade, sometimes top-of-the-line. I’d rather buy something that will do the job the first time.”

  Rip trotted away to christen a rosebush that now had spring buds. Both Crystal and Tanner turned to watch him. He angled away from the bush toward one of the metal fence posts. When he got about ten feet from the barrier, Crystal said, “No!” in a firm voice. Then she pressed the TONE button.

  Rip turned to look straight at her. She could have sworn that he grinned. Then he dashed around the corner of the house.

  “The pond!” Tanner sprang into a run. “Damn it. He hasn’t changed one iota.” Crystal had long legs, but Tanner outdistanced her with little effort. When she drew up beside him at the back corner of the house, he said, “Well, shit!”

  She followed his gaze to see Rip take a flying leap into the pond. He pushed into deeper water until he was in up to his chin and then turned to look at Crystal. She saw that victorious grin on his face again.

  “What happens if I correct him with the remote while he’s in water?” she asked Tanner. “It’s an electric shock of sorts. Won’t it sizzle him?”

  Tanner shook his head. Placing his hands on his narrow hips, he said, “Zap the little bastard. High range.”

  “I thought you didn’t have a dog. How do you know so much about electronic collars?”

  “Tuck.” He glanced down at her. “Have you given him a jolt yet?”

  Crystal adjusted to the highest frequency and pressed the CORRECTION button. Rip continued to grin at her. Anger surfaced within her. The dog was mocking her. She held her thumb down on the control. Nothing. Rip just stood in the water and watched her.

  “He drowned it,” Tanner said.

  “He drowned what?”

  “The battery. Water ruins most of them.”

  “But it’s water-resistant!”

  “Not waterproof, though. Water-resistant only means that the battery can tolerate small amounts of water, like rain or wet grass. Waterproof means that a battery will still work when submerged in water. That
kind is a lot more expensive, though, and you may as well cough up big bucks to get the best of the best, because the less costly ones aren’t always one-hundred-percent waterproof.”

  Crystal stared at her grandfather’s dog. “He knows, doesn’t he? He beat me at the game, and he’s having a good chuckle. Why didn’t you tell me to get a waterproof collar?”

  “Because most fence kits I’ve seen don’t come with them. I think you’ve got to spring for a waterproof collar, no matter what. I did tell you to get a collar strong enough for a Great Dane or Saint Bernard that can’t swim, though. Remember that?” Slanting sunlight played on his honey-streaked hair as he studied her. “Please tell me that you at least made sure the controller will pair with a different collar.”

  “I did make sure of that,” she conceded. “I just wish you’d told me about the waterproof thing. Now it’ll take two more days to get a collar that’ll keep that darned dog at home.”

  Tanner started to laugh. Crystal could see nothing funny about the situation. When he quieted, she sent him a serious look. “How many collars has Rip destroyed?”

  Hands still riding his hips, he turned to face her. “It doesn’t feel right to tell you things about Rip that Tuck didn’t share with you.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake! It’s a dog, and I’m in charge of caring for him. I need to know what I’m up against.”

  Tanner scuffed at the lawn with the sole of his boot. “I’d say he’s gone through a half dozen, but he didn’t destroy all of them. He just learned that the shocking signal on a collar only lasts for thirty seconds. It’s a safety feature in case a dog gets trapped in a signal zone and can’t get away from it.”

  Crystal nodded. “I read about that.”

  “So Rip learned to hang on for thirty seconds. I’ve seen him challenge Tuck’s invisible fence to dig out, yelping at the shocks until they stopped. Then off he went. Tuck couldn’t keep him home, either.”

  Crystal sank to the grass and sat cross-legged. “So I just spent nearly three hundred dollars for nothing.”