A Christmas Home: A Novel (19 page)

“What did he say this time, Dad?” Todd asked, playing along.

George crouched down again, pretending to receive a canine communiqué. “What’s that, boy? Okay, I’ll tell them. This old dog says that your shelter friends need a home for Christmas.”

“They can’t stay here, Dad. It’s too big a mess.” Todd made a sweeping gesture indicating the havoc of their surroundings.

George put his hand under the black Lab’s jaw and tilted his head up so that he could see into the dog’s green eyes. “Christmas knows that, so he says your dogs should stay with us—in the barn—until you can find homes for them. This dog of ours is pretty smart, don’t you think?”

Todd bent down and whispered loudly to Ranger. “What? Say it again.” Todd stood up and delivered his own dog message. “Ranger thinks you and Christmas are smart. We better get started moving them.”

Hayley smiled for the first time all morning. Mary Ann nodded in agreement.

George discussed with Hayley and Todd what needed to be done. It seemed to Mary Ann like a tremendous amount of work, but she went along with the plan. They would have to disassemble and reassemble at least a dozen cages, move food and supplies, and provide care for a dozen animals until a permanent solution could be found.

Mary Ann returned to school while George and Todd drove back to the McCray farm for tools and supplies. Needing something with ample space to haul cages, dogs, and supplies, George hitched his truck to his four-horse trailer.

Mary Ann headed straight to the principal’s office and thanked Principal Wallace for covering her eleventh-grade debate class.

“No problem. Reminded me why I don’t teach anymore!” the principal remarked.

When he asked about the outcome of her emergency mission, Mary Ann gave him a rundown.

He moved to the edge of his chair. “Sounds to me like the shelter could use some help today.”

“George has no idea what he has gotten himself into,” Mary Ann said. “We’ll do the best we can.”

“I’ve got an idea. Follow me.” Principal Wallace went to the front reception desk and elbowed his way past a covey of students providing various excuses for being late or leaving early. He picked up the microphone for the PA system
and pressed a button. The halls and classroom were suddenly interrupted by a little horn-like sound, the harbinger of an announcement from the front office.

“This is Principal Wallace. Sorry to interrupt your studies, but I have an important announcement.” Stan Wallace was pretty sure that what he was about to do violated multiple school board and state policies. He also figured that everyone should and would look the other way this time. He’d been at that town meeting, and if this wasn’t an opportunity for folks to pull together—and a chance for the younger citizens in town to get involved—then what was? If anyone complained, he’d give them an earful about teachable moments.

“Pipes burst and created a mess out at our animal shelter. I need five volunteers to help move some animals and set up a temporary shelter out at Mrs. McCray’s farm. This will count as an excused absence. If you’re caught up with your work and if you’re interested in helping, please come to my office.”

Within minutes there was a steady stream of students rushing to the front office. He chose the five he had the most confidence in, collected them in his office, and gave them instructions.

“You have to contact your parents first. You can’t leave until they call the office and give their permission. Once Mrs. Randolph tells me you’ve been cleared, then you can go home and change into work clothes. Also if you can borrow a few hand tools from your parents that would be
nice. My guess is hammers and crowbars would be best for taking apart cages and putting them back together again. Try to be over at the shelter in half an hour.”

Back at the shelter George suggested that they disassemble and move sixteen pens, even though they were down to only twelve dogs—just in case someone showed up with another stray or two. Within a few hours, after multiple trips back and forth, sixteen pens had been taken apart and put back together in the McCrays’ barn using lumber and materials that were recycled from the shelter. All of the food and supplies had been moved into the old milking pens. Straw lined the cages, and the barn’s old furnace was at least taking an edge off the cold air.

By early evening all of the dogs seemed comfortably situated. Three of the dogs had a very short stay in their newly assigned cages. In fact, they had already moved on to new homes. Each one had been looked over one last time by a Crossing Trails High volunteer, a decision was made, paperwork was quickly completed, and a car door was shut. In the dim light of the setting sun, each of the students set off with their new pet in the backseat of an old car.

An hour earlier, after a hard afternoon of work, each of the three students had called home to their parents to make their pleas. “Mom, I’ve got to bring this dog home!” There was surprisingly little objection. Given the shelter’s plight and the enthusiasm in their child’s voice, it was hard to say no.

Todd’s cell phone had been busily ringing all day.
Frustrated by the interruptions, he turned off the ringer. It was dinnertime before he remembered to turn it back on. He had three messages from Laura. She was worried about him and wanted him to call her right away. Hayley wanted to talk to him about dividing up the work at their new emergency location, and Ed Lee wanted to know if Todd would like to become an employee of Paradise Valley Farms. His message was very kind: “Todd, the other two people that interviewed did not measure up to you. I think you could really add to our operations. You can start after Christmas or the first of the year, whichever you prefer. Call me back in the next week and let me know if you want the job.” Ed Lee seemed anxious to fill the position.

Todd got out of his voice mail and joined his father, who was relaxing against the swinging door to a horse stall, staring out over the temporary shelter and trying to decide if this was the single craziest thing he had ever done in his life. While he was sure there were probably less prudent things he had done, none came to mind.

“Dad?”

“Yes, Todd.”

“Looks like we both have new jobs.”

George was getting ready to launch into a speech about this being Todd’s responsibility. He was providing the space, nothing more, but there was something about the little smile on Todd’s face that caused him to pause and ask, “What do you mean?”

“You’re the new assistant shelter manager, and they offered me a spot at the dairy.”

George shook his son’s hand and then pulled him into an embrace. “Congratulations, son, I’m very proud of you. They’re lucky to have you.”

While Todd and George put away tools and did a final inspection of the temporary shelter, Mary Ann pulled together a quick dinner and called them into the house to join her. Todd was so tired he could hardly hold his head up as he ate. His explanation about the dairy job was very brief, and although Mary Ann tried to get more details, he was clearly too exhausted for conversation. After quietly demolishing an oversized bowl of chocolate ice cream, he left for Thorne’s cabin.

George moved to the living room, and Mary Ann removed a tablecloth and dishes from the hutch in the dining room and began preparing the table for their weekend holiday party. As there was only a half wall separating the dining room space from the living room space, they talked freely back and forth.

“Don’t you think Todd seems sort of close-mouthed about the dairy? He didn’t seem to want to talk about it, though I know he was tired. Do you think he’s nervous?” she asked while rolling red and green cloth napkins and slipping them inside small pinecone napkin holders.

“It’s got to be a little scary for him. He didn’t say much
to me, either. Just that he got hired. His mind is probably still on the shelter. Today was a tough one.”

“Do you think the dairy will work out for him?”

“Sure it will, but I was thinking that in some ways working there will be Todd’s first real job.”

“The shelter was a real job. What do you mean?” Mary Ann asked.

“At the dairy he’s going to be asked to do things that are hard and that don’t come easily to him, not like at the shelter.”

“I’m not sure I follow.” She hesitated, uncomfortable with what George was saying. “What kind of things?”

“Don’t you have to do things at the school—maybe it’s a particularly unpleasant parent-teacher conference—that you would just as soon pass on?”

“I guess, but I enjoy ninety-nine percent of being a teacher, and it gives me very little comfort to think he is going to have to do things he doesn’t enjoy or that are ‘unpleasant.’ I’m not sure why you see such tasks as some wonderful growth experience for him.”

George knew this talk was headed in a direction he did not want to go. “That’s not what I said. My point is that Todd is entitled to feel a little nervous and to hesitate; this is going to be a brand-new world for him.”

George knew that Mary Ann was concerned, maybe even a little upset, and that was why she was being testy. “He’ll be fine.” George glanced over the top of his newspaper and waited for her to respond.

She asked, “Fi
n
e?” With a hard edge on the
n
.

Trying to imitate the emphasis, George said, “Yes, he’ll be fine. How about you, Mary Ann. Will you be fi
n
e?”

She looked up from her work. “I’m feeling a little shell-shocked, to be honest.”

George set the paper down. “There’s a lot going on. Todd’s new job, the shelter, the holidays are almost here—it’s a lot on him. Why don’t you take a break? Come over here and sit down with me.”

Mary Ann did not argue. Instead, she settled in beside him on the living room couch. Trying to reassure her, George remarked, “I hope the dairy will work out for Todd, we’ll find homes for this last bunch of stragglers, and things will get back to normal with the New Year.”

“Agreed, but now that he has the dairy position, maybe he’ll want to move to Crossing Trails?”

He looked over his glasses and said to his wife, “
Could be.”

The two words, however, communicated much more. They were spoken with a certain patience, love, and resignation that seemed to go to the core of what Mary Ann had been struggling with the last few weeks. “Could be” was George’s gentle way of reminding Mary Ann that Todd had his own future. He was growing up. They needed to let go.

“So that’s it. ‘Could be’ is all you have to say.” She had to laugh. She knew her husband was trying his hardest to help her work through all of it, and she wanted him to know that at the end of the day, she agreed. They would all get through it. She also suspected that behind all of George’s
patient letting-go dialogue was a great big heaping dose of denial. If Todd moved to Crossing Trails, he would be just as worried as she would be.

Mary Ann pulled the glasses off George’s face and kissed him gently on the nose. Nestling her chin under his ear, she whispered, “The perfect way for me to stop fussing over Todd would be for me to spend a lot more time fussing over you. Would you mind?”

George immediately stood up and gave a long yawn. “I think it’s time for bed. Todd will be just
fine
.”

At the bottom of McCray’s Hill, in Thorne’s cabin, Todd sat at the kitchen table and read his e-mails. There was one from Julie at the Heartland School for Dogs. He read it twice to make sure he understood. He tried Laura again. The line had been busy the last two times he had tried to call. This time he got through.

“Where have you been?” Laura asked.

“I’ve been very busy. A lot happened today—there’s so much to tell you, Laura.”

Todd told her about the broken pipes, the shelter’s emergency closing, and how convenient it was having all of the dogs in his own barnyard.

She listened with great interest, but all the while she
was hesitant to ask him a question, out of fear that the answer would not be good, but finally she could not resist. “Did you hear from the dairy?”

“Yes, they offered me the job. They must have liked me. I’m good with cows.” He paused and then added, “I’d rather work with dogs. You can’t train cows. I don’t know if I want to take it.”

“I was just thinking, maybe you should not rush into it. Who knows if something else might come up for you? Why don’t you take a week or so to think about it?”

“That’s what I’m going to talk to you about.”

“Now?”

“Yes, I sent an e-mail to Julie Bradshaw at Heartland, the dog-training place. She wrote me back.” Todd moved over to the computer. “I think I better read it to you. Here goes:”