Christmas in Cupid Falls (21 page)

“Well, even if I move to Erie permanently, you know I’m always here to listen.”

“I do know that, Pap. Now, let’s go see some dogs. And then, afterward, a bunch of the local kids are coming over to help pull up this flooring and get ready for tonight’s dance.”

“Quick turnovers like this are tricky, but you’ll do fine.” Pap slapped his back.

Mal realized that his grandfather and his mother had always believed that he could do anything he set his mind to. On the heels of that realization, he thought about what Annabelle, then Pap had said—words have power.

“Pap?” he asked.

“Yes, boyo?”

“When things settle down, I’d like to talk to you about buying the house when you’re ready.”

Pap’s eyes narrowed. “Now why would you do that?”

He said the words, hoping Nana Vancy was right. “Because I’m staying in Cupid Falls. I’m going to live next door to Kennedy and my child, and I’m going to continue to ask her to marry me. If words have power, maybe one day I’ll wear her down and she’ll say yes.”

“Why do you want to marry her?” Pap’s question echoed the one Kennedy had asked so many times.

Mal realized he’d given her all kinds of answers. Because they were going to be parents. Because they made a good team. Because they were friends.

If words had power, those were all lackluster words at best. And suddenly he knew the most powerful words there were. And he knew if he had any hope of Kennedy saying yes, he’d have to use them.

“Are you coming to the dance?” he asked his grandfather, ignoring his question.

Pap was an insightful man. He didn’t press for an answer. “Yes. I’ll be at the dance. Annabelle and her friends need to take any unadopted dogs home to Erie, but then they’re coming back for tonight’s fun.”

“Good,” Mal said distractedly. His mind was on how he was going to use those most powerful words and convince Kennedy to say yes.

Every week Kennedy thought,
this is it. The baby can’t possibly get any bigger before it’s born because there’s simply no way it will fit
. And every week—heck, every day—her girth had expanded at an alarming rate. She noticed how much as she knelt down in order to look at a small dog inside the baby-gated area. The rest of his cage-mates had been adopted and he was the only one left in this enclosure.

The dog looked like a gremlin. Small, dark—he couldn’t possibly top five pounds. And his tail was disconcertingly long. But he looked at her with doggie hope in his eyes. As if he were saying,
I know you’ll help
.

Kennedy had promised herself as soon as the baby was potty trained, she’d get a dog for him. “Sorry,” she whispered to the small dog as she held the side of the enclosure in order to hoist herself back into an upright position.

She walked farther down the aisle. May had been helping at the refreshment table, but now she was standing next to an enclosure that held three dogs. “May, do you see a dog that you like?”

“Oh, no. I’ve thought about it. Really I have, but I still miss my June.” She dabbed at her eyes. “I was talking to Nana Vancy—it seems absurd to call a woman who is my age Nana anything, but she insisted, and you know me, I try to oblige people and not make waves.”

Kennedy was proud that she didn’t laugh. She didn’t even crack a smile at that statement.

“But Nana Vancy is wandering around like a whirling dervish. She said that scruffy one right there”—May pointed at a scruffy medium-size dog—“is Rico. That one”—she pointed at a minpin—“has a mouthful of a name. Walburga. They call her Wallie. And that one”—she pointed at a medium-size white Jack Russell terrier mix. “His name is August.”

Kennedy knew immediately that May wanted the Jack Russell. She could see it in her expression. May’s longing was almost palpable.

Malcolm came up behind her. “How’s it going?” he asked.

“May was telling me about the dogs in the pen,” Kennedy answered. “She told me that the Jack Russell over there? He’s named August.”

She saw that Malcolm understood exactly what she wanted. He turned to May. “You know, I’m an attorney. I don’t believe in fate. But May, this one time, I might be willing to admit, this might be fate.”

“Kismet, even,” Kennedy said.

“That Nana Vancy woman says he’s older. Nine, they think. I wouldn’t want a puppy. I don’t have the energy to train it. But she says August is housebroken. She said he likes to sleep, but when one of the staff puts him on a lead to go for a walk, it’s like he’s a puppy all over again,” May said.

Kennedy and Malcolm were silent as May stared at the dog. “I do like to walk,” she murmured, her eyes never leaving August.

“I think you should seriously consider adopting him,” Kennedy said. And knowing that sometimes saying less was more, she said, “If you’ll excuse me a moment, I need to talk to Malcolm, but I’ll check back with you.” She took his hand and pulled him toward the office.

“Are you okay?” Malcolm asked. “Is it the baby?”

Kennedy glanced over her shoulder and saw that May was still standing, staring at August. “No. I wanted to give May some space to think about it. Since June passed, she’s been difficult. I think she’s been lonely.”

“I—”

Whatever Malcolm was going to say was lost under the deafening sound of “Aunt Kennedy.” Ivy raced down the aisle, her brothers following, and Jenny behind them. “We did it,” the little girl said excitedly.

“Did what?” she asked the little girl.

“Lenny and Timmy and me, we did it. We know what we want for Christmas. We don’t need to make no list, though. Come on, I’ll show you.” She took Kennedy by the hand and led her back to the enclosure where the small gremlin-like dog sat.

Lenny walked into the enclosure and the dog ran over to him and jumped into his arms. “We all petted him and he loves us.”

She looked down at the dog that Lenny was currently holding, and then up at Jenny, who said, “I’ve told the kids that it would be really hard to have a dog. They’re at school all day and I’m at work. No one could let a dog out.”

“Maybe he could go help Aunt Kennedy at her shop? He’d be a real good flower dog. I bet if you said ‘hey, dog, go get me a dandelion,’ he would. He’s smart,” Ivy said with perfect confidence.

“We’d really like a dog,” said Lenny, who hitherto had allowed his sister to do the talking for him. “I mean we’d really,
really
like one, Aunt Kennedy.”

“Yeah, really,” Timmy said. “Mom said she won’t get it for us, but if you did, she’d have to let us have it ’cause it would be a gift. And she says even if you don’t like a gift, you gotta say ‘thank you’ and suck it up.”

Kennedy looked at Jenny again. She rolled her eyes and gave the slightest nod, giving her silent permission.

“Well, I can see that the three of you have given this some thought,” Kennedy said, looking at her new nephews and niece.

“He’s a very little dog, so he can’t be too much trouble,” Ivy wheedled.

“If I, as your new aunt, were to buy you the dog for a Christmas present, I’d need some assurances.”

“Like what?” Lenny asked, his eyes narrowing.

“For instance, I’d need you all to promise you’d let him in and out when he needs to go. And on garbage day, you’d have to take a shovel and clean up all his poop—”

Ivy giggled. “She said
poop
,” she stage-whispered to her brothers.

The boys laughed too. And Kennedy could see Malcolm was trying valiantly not to laugh at this blatant manipulation by a five-year-old charmer.

As the three kids snickered, Kennedy realized she’d moved up a decided notch in the cool new aunt department. “You’d have to play with him and—”

Ivy couldn’t contain herself. She squealed with delight. “That means yes, right? If you’re giving us rules, it means yes. You’re buying us our dog for Christmas.” She threw herself at Kennedy, who was standing, so she didn’t topple, but she noticed that Malcolm’s hand came instinctually to her back to steady her anyway.

She leaned down awkwardly and hugged Ivy. “It means yes.”

“You are the best aunt ever. Maisey’s got an aunt and she buys her candy, but a dog is better than candy.”

“Why don’t you all take your dog and see Nana Vancy. I’ll be right there to help with the paperwork,” Kennedy said.

“And pay,” Ivy said. “A dog this good might be expensive.”

The way she said it told Kennedy that Ivy had been told in the past that something was too expensive for her mom to afford. She could see that the little girl was worried.

“He’s a very little dog, so he won’t be too expensive,” Kennedy assured her. “I promise.”

A look of relief swept over Ivy.

“Sorry,” Kennedy told Jenny. “I guess that being an honorary aunt means that I get to be a bit of a pain in your butt on occasion. But I will offer to help with the puppy. You don’t live all that far from the shop. I can go let him out on your long days.”

“We’ll work it out,” Jenny said. “Look at them. Even if the dog ends up being extra work, it’s worth it to see them that happy.” She turned and followed the kids.

“So how’s the adoption working out for you?” Malcolm asked with laughter.

“I think it helped that Christmas is around the corner. I mean, having someone else to buy you a gift can never be a bad thing when you’re five.”

Malcolm shook his head. “I don’t think that’s it at all, Kennedy. You’re special, and even a five-year-old can recognize that. If you love someone, it’s forever. There would be no halves about it. Anyone you love is lucky.
Our
baby is going to be so lucky.”

The way he said
our baby
and looked at her made Kennedy feel flustered, because for a moment, just a moment, as he was talking, she could almost imagine that someday he’d talk about her like that.
My Kennedy.

As if she were a part of him.

She shook her head and pushed that fantasy away. “I’d better go buy my present.”

She followed the Murray family over to the table by the door. She would be willing to place a bet that Malcolm was watching her, but she didn’t turn around.

Nana Vancy and Angela, the disc jockey, were talking to Jenny.

“I wanted to check and make sure it’s okay for the kids to go on air at my next broadcast?” Angela asked.

“Sure,” Jenny said.

Nana Vancy motioned Kennedy over. “You did a good job picking the
gyermekek
’s dog. Have you ever thought about being a matchmaker?”

Kennedy smiled. “The kids picked him out themselves.”

“But you knew it was the right dog for them. That’s a talent. Are you sure we can’t find a dog for your baby?”

“Next year. I’ll let him come pick out one with me.”

“Her,” Nana Vancy said with absolute conviction. “The baby’s a girl.”

Kennedy placed her hands on her stomach and the baby kicked, as if to confirm Nana Vancy’s proclamation.

“Time will tell,” she said.

Nana Vancy grinned. “Yes, it will. And here comes your love.”

“He’s not my—” she started to protest.

Nana Vancy interrupted her. “Kennedy, kedvenc, you can lie to him and you can lie to yourself even, but you can’t lie to me. Words have power. I learned that the hard way. You’ll know when it’s the right time to say the words. The true words, not the lies you’ve been telling.”

Kennedy thought about protesting that she didn’t lie and that she didn’t know what Nana Vancy was talking about, but instead, she simply ignored the older lady and busied herself making out a check for the minimal fee to the Everything But a Dog Foundation.

Malcolm came up behind her as she put her wallet back in her purse. “The kids got the dog then?”

She smiled. “It was my first present as their official adopted aunt.”

He whistled. “That was a very good present.”

“And you?” Nana Vancy asked Malcolm. “You found your dog?”

“I’m not looking for a dog,” he assured her.

“He’s going home to Pittsburgh soon,” Kennedy added. “It would be hard to have a dog in the city.”

Nana Vancy laughed. “You both are so wrong about so many things.” Then she muttered something in another language and chuckled again as she walked away.

“She’
s . . .
” Malcolm said, letting the sentence hang as if he couldn’t adequately describe Nana Vancy Salo.

Kennedy nodded. “Yes, she is.”

They fell into an easy step and walked around the room. There were half a dozen people milling around the makeshift enclosures, which were old-fashioned wood play yards for kids. There were less than half a dozen dogs left.

Kennedy walked over to Gideon and Annie Byler. “Miss Annie, how are you?”

“I’m fine, Kennedy. And how’s the
boppl
i
?” she asked, reaching out to touch Kennedy’s stomach.

Normally, Kennedy shied away from people who tried to touch her stomach, but it was impossible to take offense when it was Miss Annie. “The baby’s fine, Miss Annie.”

“And you?” Miss Annie pressed.

“Just fine. Ready to not be pregnant.” What she wouldn’t give to see her feet, or simply get off a couch without looking like some gag reel of
I Love Lucy
.

Annie took a step back and studied Kennedy a moment. “It won’t be long. No, not long at all.”