Right Where We Started

“B-a-l...” Tess took a giant step as she said each letter, ending up in the middle of the road. Again. “L.”

“Stay on this side,” Audrey reminded her. The road leading to Beecher’s Marina wasn’t very busy this time of day in mid-September, but she didn’t want Tess getting in the habit of thinking there would never be traffic. In the summer, cars and trucks towing boats behind them sometimes made it look like a parade.

“Mother, may I?” Tess shot her a mischievous lopsided grin—a replica of the one that stayed on Alex Merrill’s face most of the time.

“Yes, you may. And remind me to call your dad when we get home.” Audrey tried not to let her irritation show, but Alex’s failure to get those invoices scanned and emailed to her was throwing her schedule off—something she couldn’t allow to happen if she was going to keep her sanity.

Tess did a bunny hop back to her side. “Ready for another word.”

“Um...how about red.”

“R-e-d. Look, Mama!” Tess jerked to a stop and pointed into the thicket of autumn olive bushes.

At first, Audrey couldn’t quite make out what they were looking at, as the dog’s brown fur camouflaged it against the brown earth, where no grass grew. But then her heart sank. A mother dog with three nursing puppies, no doubt dropped by some person with no heart.

Audrey grabbed Tess’s arm as the child headed into the shadows. “No, punkin.”

“But, Mama...”

The dog’s ears had risen to pointy peaks and she looked at them warily at first. But, at the sound of their voices, her demeanor shifted as if she sensed help might be available. Her ears dropped and she struggled onto her feet with the puppies holding firm to her teats, a look of hopeful pleading in her eyes. She wagged her tail to show she came in friendship as she started toward them, ribs protruding, legs wobbly, dropping babies as she came.

Audrey’s eyes blurred at the sight of the starving dog and the whining puppies.

“We hafta help her, Mama. She doesn’t look so good.”

Audrey stepped between Tess and the dog, facing the animal one mother to another. She leaned down and extended her hand for the adult dog to sniff, which she did, followed by a lick of approval. Audrey scratched behind her ears, and the dog leaned into her hand, closing her eyes in a look of ecstasy.

Two of the puppies grunted and even yelped at the sudden disappearance of Mama. The third moved slowly and was eerily quiet. Smaller by far, he was obviously the runt—the one pushed out during this critical time of growth. The one sure to die if he wasn’t allowed to nurse soon. But the mother didn’t look like she was going to make it much longer, either. In fact, she flopped down and rolled onto her side, looking too exhausted to move another inch.

Audrey lifted the babies, whose eyes and ears were just beginning to open, and placed them beside the mother dog. They immediately latched on to the proffered nipples but soon let go, moving in a frenzy from one to another, which indicated they were probably empty.

Audrey’s throat tightened to hold back the sob as she checked her watch. It was past four thirty, and she had to pick her mom up at five. There wasn’t time to go back to the house and get the car, pick up the dogs and take them to the house. If she called, Miss Gertie probably wouldn’t mind her mom staying a little while longer. Crap! What was she thinking? She couldn’t take on a mother dog and three puppies. Mom. Tess. Work. She had too much on her plate now.

“Hey.”

Audrey’s head jerked up at the voice and saw Mark headed toward them from the direction of Beecher’s. His bike rolled to a smooth stop beside them. “What’s going on?”

“A mommy dog and three puppies!” Tess pointed to the hungry mass.

“I see.” Mark shot Audrey a questioning look. “Think somebody dropped them?”

She nodded, her stomach turning at the thought. She’s starving, she mouthed.

He nodded that he understood. “She’s friendly.” Unclipping from the pedals, he got off and laid his bike in the grass.

“Yeah, she seems very sweet-natured.” Audrey’s voice broke on the last word.

Mark crouched beside the mother dog and held his hand to her nose. “Hey, mom dog. Those are some good-looking babies you have there.” The dog’s tail thumped at his gentle tone, and he ran a soothing hand across her head.

Tess had picked up the smallest one and cradled it in her arms. “This one’s littler. I don’t think he’s getting enough to eat.”

“I don’t think any of them are getting enough to eat.” Audrey looked at her watch again. “I thought about getting the car and coming back for them, but I don’t have time to do that and still pick Mom up at five.” She swiped a hand down her face. “And I really don’t need anything else to deal with right now, either.”

“But, Mama.” Tess’s tone was an exasperated whine. “We can’t leave them here. They’ll get runned over by cars.”

“Run over,” Audrey and Mark said at the same time.

“She’s right.” Mark shook his head. “We can’t just leave them here.” Out of the side of his mouth he whispered, “As weak as the mom’s getting, coyotes will probably do them all in tonight.”

Audrey shuddered and fought back the tears. “You could...” She waited to catch Mark’s eye. “You could take them home with you.”

“Whoa.” He stood and raised his hands palms out. “I work full-time away from home.”

Audrey’s heart took on a hopeful beat and she stood, locking her gaze with his. “I could help. Mom and I could walk down and check on them and feed them a couple of times during the day, if you could keep an eye on them at night.” She touched his arm, and his eyes widened. “They’re probably what? Two weeks old? So it would only be for about a month. Then we could find homes for them. Meanwhile, they could stay in your dad’s garage.”

Mark looked aghast. “I live in my dad’s garage. He made half of it into an apartment.”

What was she thinking? A project that would put her and Mark in even more contact? “Yeah, of course. Bad idea.” She looked at her watch again. Four forty. She’d have to leave soon.

“Please, Mr. Dublin,” Tess begged. “Mama and Grandma and I can help.”

“Tess, it’s not fair to put this responsibility on Mr. Dublin.” Especially if it means more time together.

Tess’s gray eyes filled like storm clouds. “But Mr. Dublin says animals are our ’sponsibilty.”

Poor Mark looked like he was facing the enemy army. “Yeah, I do say that.” He shut his eyes in a grimace, took a deep breath.

Audrey felt both gestures as if they were her own.

“Oh—” he exhaled in surrender “—all right.”

“Yay!” Tess hugged him around the waist.

Audrey repeated the word but with much less exuberance.

He laid a hand on Tess’s head, and she leaned back to smile up at him adoringly. He touched the end of his finger to her nose. “You’re so much like your mama, it’s scary.” She giggled and let him go, so he could get back on his bike. “I’ll be back in three minutes with my truck.”

Audrey mustered a smile for her daughter as Mark rode away. “This is going to be a lot of work, punkin.”

“Mr. Dublin says if we work together, it makes work easier.”

Her daughter was certainly full of Mr. Dublin’s sage advice this afternoon.

Audrey didn’t want to contradict, but nothing about the arrangement they’d made was going to be easy.

* * *

HE WAS A dead man.

When his mom and dad returned from visiting his brother in Seattle, his dad would surely kill him. Mark patted the mother dog’s head and she sighed contentedly. “Totally worth it, though,” he assured her and her tail thumped at the sound of his voice. She was such a sweet dog. It was hard to imagine how anyone could be cruel enough to drop her and her babies. But the vet he’d called said he’d seen it happen time and again—mostly to pregnant females.

She was an odd mixture with a lineage he couldn’t quite make out. The shape of her face and ears reminded him of the hyenas he used to hear at night in Kenya. And, while she was colored like a chocolate Lab, her body looked more like a beagle. The puppies were even harder to discern since they weren’t old enough yet to distinguish much about snout or shape of their ears. One was solid black, one was brown and white and the little one was black and white and looked like a border collie, with a stripe down his nose.

Mutts, one and all.

“I’m headed to get you some real food now. I’ll be back soon,” he promised.

All he’d had to feed her was a couple of leftover hamburger patties that were supposed to be his supper tonight, and she’d gobbled those down in seconds. It wasn’t enough. The vet couldn’t see them until Saturday, but he’d stressed she needed proper nourishment and so did the puppies.

And that meant Mark would have to make the drive to Benton for some shopping.

So much for the fifty-mile bike ride he’d been looking forward to all day.

Such was parenthood, he supposed.

A knock at the garage door brought him to his feet, and when he opened it, his heart leaped at the sight of Audrey and Tess, arms laden with grocery bags. “What’s this?”

“Supplies.” Audrey held her bags out to him. “Take these. There’s more.”

“And I’ve got puppy food.” Tess held up the bag in her arms.

“They’ll be needing that soon.” He set his armload on the workbench and took the bag from Tess. Glancing through the sacks, he saw they were full of canned dog food. “Y’all shouldn’t have done this,” he admonished gently as Audrey came through the door lugging a large, plush doggy bed with a gigantic bag of dry dog food nestled in it.

She plopped it on the floor with a grunt. “It’s the least we could do. You provide shelter and we’ll provide food.” She dusted her hands and glanced around, and he watched her swallow hard when her eyes landed on the Ping-Pong table, folded and pushed against the back wall.

He’d won his first real kiss from her after a strategic slam had returned the ball to her side of that table with enough velocity to bounce over her head and against the wall, where it had ricocheted off various objects and eventually rolled under the large freezer.

Her eyes shifted back to him and then awkwardly away. She shoved her hands into her back pockets and shrugged. “C’mon, punkin. We’ve got to go.”

“By the way, I called the vet and made an appointment for all of them Saturday. Just to get them checked out.”

Audrey’s eyes, instantly hooded in worry, darted from him to the dogs to Tess. “Do you think—”

“I think there’s nothing wrong food won’t cure.” Her face relaxed. “Can you stay a few minutes? I’ll show you my apartment.” He pointed to the door in the wall that cut the garage in half.

“Put the puppy down, Tess.” She shook her head. “We can’t stay now. Mom’s in the car, and she was starting to get antsy. I need to get her home and get her fed.”

“Oh, sure.” He’d witnessed Helen’s restless behavior at the Labor Day picnic.

“But she takes a sedative and goes to bed around seven.” Audrey had her daughter by the hand and was moving out the door. “Maybe we’ll walk down and check on the dogs then?”

She was coming back? Tonight? He tamped down the enthusiasm in his voice that would only scare her away. “Sure. Feel free to come anytime.”

“Oh, by the way,” Audrey called over her shoulder. “Didn’t know if you’d want one, but there’s a doggy door in one of those sacks. The receipt’s with it. Just take it back if you don’t want it.”

A doggy door. She’d thought of everything. He grinned and waved as the car backed out of his drive.

Rummaging through the bags, he also found a food dish and a water bowl. He emptied one of the cans into the bowl and put it down beside mom dog, and she gobbled it up in about three bites. He reached for another can, but thought better of it. He’d seen starvation before. Too much food too quickly would only be thrown back up until the stomach adjusted. “Keep that down and I’ll give you more later.”

The dog’s expression went from expectant to resigned as if she understood precisely what he’d said.

He found the pet door in the largest bag. The contraption wasn’t just one of those swinging types. This was high-tech, with a sensor attached to the dog’s collar—also provided by Audrey—which emitted a signal that unlocked the pet door. It was pure genius, as it kept any other critters—opossums, skunks and raccoons, which were everyday sights in these parts—from being able to wander in, drawn by the scent of the food.

Their conversation from the night of the picnic came back to him. She still hadn’t given him an answer or a smile. Still hadn’t taken him up on his offer of friendship. But the dog had given them a second thing to share in their lives—Tess being the first.

“Share.” He squatted down beside the dog. “Might be a good name for you.” He gave a chuckle. “And if I give it a little twist and spell it C-H-E-R, she’ll be none the wiser...until I tell her differently.”

Cher licked his hand.

He picked up the pet door and looked at the directions for installation. They required a hole to be cut through his dad’s new garage door.

He was a dead man.

* * *

“HERE’S YOUR MEDICINE, MOM.” The pink pill Audrey held out was so small it hardly seemed possible it could contain a full night of sedation.

Her mom shook her head and waved her away. “I don’t want any, thank you. I’m full.”

“This is your medicine.” Audrey nudged her with the glass. “The pill helps you sleep.”

“I’m not sleepy.” Her mom crossed her arms tightly across her chest.

Although she tried to keep everything related to her mom on as much of a schedule as possible, Audrey had to be flexible and ready for whatever came up. Her mom had never refused any of her medicine before, but this could be the start of a new behavior she’d have to deal with. Hoping her mom would see it and take it on her own, she set the pill on the table along with the water glass. “I’ll leave it right here. Maybe you’ll want it in a minute.”

“Tell your father I need to speak with him.” Her mom glanced around the room, a worried look pinching her petite face. “And you need to call your sister in for supper.”

“Dad’s busy right now,” Audrey said, following the suggestion the doctor gave her to not engage Mom in upsetting dialogue unless she specifically asked if the family members were dead. “And Callie’s already eaten.” After years of hardly ever discussing Win with anyone, since no one in Florida had known her or brought her up, it was almost therapeutic to discuss her so openly and so often. But calling her Callie would always feel off.

Tess came into the kitchen with her jacket on. “Are you getting sleepy yet, Grandma?”

Audrey smiled behind the refrigerator door at Tess’s eagerness to go check on the dogs, but could she be any more transparent? She put the milk in its assigned place, where her mom could find it easily.

“There she is.” Her mom pointed to the chair beside her. “You need to eat your supper. Now sit down.”

Tess cut her eyes up to Audrey. “Um... I’m not hungry?”

“You must eat something or you won’t be allowed to go back outside to play.”

Audrey grabbed a bag of baby carrots before she closed the door and put a few of them on a saucer, which she placed in front of Tess. “Eat your carrots and you can have a cookie.” She pointed to the pill. “You need to take your medicine, Mom.”

“I’ve been asked to play.” Her mom got up and strode to the piano. Within a few seconds the house was filled with Chopin’s Fantaisie-Impromptu.

Audrey’s heart danced to the wild rhythm of the piece. How could her mom’s memory, so ravaged by disease, still allow her fingers to move at such speed with such precision? One of those good things in the world Mark had spoken of, she supposed.

Mark had done a good thing this afternoon. Actually, they had done a good thing together, and since Mom seemed so restless this evening, maybe a walk would do her good. They could check on the dogs. She finished tidying the kitchen while her mom played her heart out and even stood and took a bow when Audrey and Tess applauded at the end.

“How about a walk this evening, Mom?” Audrey suggested.

Tess pumped her fist. “Yes!”

Her mom smiled. “A stroll would be lovely. Ask your father to come along with us, will you?”

Audrey grabbed a couple of sweaters from the closet as Tess grabbed her grandma’s hand and pulled her out the front door. “He’s busy right now,” Tess said, throwing a questioning look Audrey’s way. She nodded, assuring her daughter the pat answer was the right thing.

The sun had dropped low, so they couldn’t stay long or they’d be walking home in the dark. If she had a dollar for every time she and Mark had walked from his place to hers in the dark, she would be a rich woman. And if anybody had told her six months ago she would ever be making this trek again, she would’ve thought they were delusional.

As they walked down Beecher Road, Tess chatted excitedly, filling in her grandma again on all the details about the mother dog and the puppies.

“Oh.” Her mom jerked to a stop and she stared at the enormous weeping willow. Her mouth twisted into a look of horror. “No!” The word was whispered, but the agony behind it sounded loud and clear. The old tree had been a favorite spot for Audrey, Callie and Mark throughout their childhood. No doubt, the sight of it—not a quick pass like in the car, but a slow approach—had shaken loose a memory. “No, no, no, no.” Her mom thrust her fingers into her hair, gripping the roots, and she squeezed her eyes closed as if she couldn’t bear to see.

Audrey managed to get her arm around her mom’s shoulders. “It’s okay, Mom.” She kept her voice calm as much for Tess, whose wide eyes said she was scared, as her mom. “Here, why don’t we walk this way.” Turning her around was like trying to maneuver a statue.

“No, no, no, no.”

Audrey finally got them headed back in the direction of home, but her mother refused to open her eyes or loosen her grip on her hair. Audrey was terrified she might actually pull some of it out she held it so tightly. Her mind raced, trying to come up with something—anything—that might diminish the anxiety.

A poem came to mind. The one her mom used to recite every evening when they would all walk down to Beecher’s Marina to say good night to Kentucky Lake. “‘I must go down to the seas again,’” she said and felt her mom’s shoulders relax under her arm.

“‘To the lonely sea and the sky.’” To her surprise and delight, Tess’s sweet voice joined hers. She’d recited it often to her daughter when they were on the beach in Florida, but she never realized Tess had committed it to memory.

Her mom’s eyes opened and her hands dropped from her hair to hang at her sides.

“‘And all I ask is a tall ship—’” the duet became a trio “‘—and a star to steer her by.’” A smile broke onto her mom’s face, and Audrey shared a smile and a sigh of relief with her daughter.

“I like those words.” Tess nodded in appreciation. “They’re pretty.”

“Those are the opening lines to ‘Sea Fever,’ a famous poem by John Masefield,” her grandmother explained. Then she went into an in-depth account of the poet and some of his other famous works that lasted the rest of the way home.

When they got there, her mom went on into the house, but Audrey held Tess back for a moment. She stooped down to be at eye level with her. “I’m sorry Grandma got upset, punkin, but you handled it really well. I’m proud of you.” She pulled her into a long, tight hug.

“Can we still go see the puppies?” Tess whispered.

“No, we can’t. Not tonight.” She leaned away to make eye contact. “I’m sorry. I’ll text Mr. Dublin and let him know we won’t be there after all.” Tess nodded glumly. “But we’ll stop by tomorrow after school, and we’ll go every night after supper when we can,” she promised and Tess answered with a resigned sigh.

“Can I play ‘Mario’?”

“Thirty minutes. Then it’ll be time to get ready for bed.”

Tess took off at a gallop through the door and up the stairs.

When Audrey got in the door, she found her mom standing by the sofa table in front of the living room window, looking at the pictures of Win. Her expression was sad but calm as she reached out a finger and traced her daughter’s features in one of the photos. “Callie’s dead,” she said softly.

Audrey walked slowly over to stand beside her. “Yes, she is.” The doctor said to tell the truth if the subject arose.

“You couldn’t say Calinda. You called her Win.” The voice was tender and raw.

“That’s right.” Audrey put her arm around her mother’s shoulder and hugged her as tears made silent tracks down her cheeks.

They stood in silence for a few minutes until her mom finally whispered, “I want to take my medicine now.”

* * *

MARK GLANCED AT the text.

Sorry we didn’t make it. Mom had an episode on the way down to your house. I’ll check on the dogs at least twice tomorrow while you’re at school.

Taking care of Helen had to come first. He swallowed away his disappointment and then chuckled as he looked around the apartment he’d spent the last two hours cleaning and getting ready to show off.

With any luck, it would keep for a couple of days.

He went to check on his new companions in the garage. As soon as he opened the door, Cher left her new bed and went to the door wanting out.

He let her out, stepping outside with her while she took care of her business and then came dutifully back.

He stooped down in front of her and scratched behind her ears. “I would’ve taken you in, with or without Audrey’s help. You know that, right?” Cher closed her eyes and sighed contentedly. “And even after we’ve found the puppies new homes, you’ll always have a home right here.” She gave his hand a grateful lick. Then, ears pricking up, she followed the sound of the soft whine back inside, where she nudged the distraught offspring to let him know Mama was near. He quieted down, and she took the moment of silence to sniff her way around the garage, exploring the new surroundings.

Satisfied her stomach could handle some more food, Mark poured a cupful of dry food into the bowl and set it down beside the water. She came to it immediately and wolfed it down but didn’t beg for more. Instead, she went back to the plush bed and curled up with her babies snuggled beside her.

Mark took a picture of the group with his phone and sent it in a text message to Audrey.

Immediately, she answered back with a smiley face.

The first smile he’d gotten from her in a very, very long time.

CHAPTER FIVE

TREY CAUGHT HIS reflection in the side-view mirror and grinned. It still gave him a little bit of a shock to see the face covered in all the hair. He’d never grown a beard, but he liked it. Along with the sunglasses and the hair that brushed his shoulders, he was a different person from who he’d always been. It was a nice feeling—the real Trey tucked into a safe place, hidden from the world.

He was much more tan now, too, since he’d been fishing for most every meal the past three weeks as he meandered his way across West Virginia and Kentucky. He’d reached the Kentucky Lake area at the western end of the state. Benton, the sign at the edge of town had read.

He leaned his face back to catch the warm morning sun as the gas continued to pump. A car pulled into the next lane over, but he didn’t pay much attention until the squeal of an excited female jostled him.

“Audrey!” The young woman who’d been getting in the black sedan parked at the curb rushed toward the newcomer.

Trey glanced in the direction of the responding laugh, and suddenly his vision was filled with red tresses, flaming in the morning sunshine. His erection sprang to life at the memory of his almost-one-time girlfriend.

Yeah, she reminds me of Kaitlyn, too, Daddy whispered. Her name’s Audrey, though.