Earnest (3 page)

C
HAPTER
3

I
n Vincent, as Anna had named her van, she screeched to a stop in front of Dr. Lars Nilsen's veterinary clinic, which, thank goodness, was only five blocks from the house. Earnest was lying in a dismal heap on the backseat, his beautiful wheat-in-candlelight fur now a sickly ash color, his eyes closed as if he were an inch from giving up. Usually, his fur had the fresh, clean smell of a forest, but now all Anna could smell of him was smoke. As she yanked her key from the ignition, her hands were icy with fear for him—and for her shop and the house, which, for all she knew, were burning to the ground.

“Stay here, Sweetie,” she said, but then she thought with a pang that Earnest couldn't get up on his own, much less go anywhere. She reached back, quickly stroked his head, and tried to seem calm.

When she pushed open the door and jumped to her feet, she saw smoke rising downhill in the distance. The town's old clapboard houses would burn in a minute if the fire spread. The thought was too unbearable to contemplate. She ran toward the clinic's front door.

Her cell phone rang. Breathless, she pulled it out of her purse.

“Did you get Earnest there okay?” In the confusion on the house's front lawn, Lauren was yelling.

“I just got here. I need help to get him inside. Is the fire out?”

“I can't tell. You wouldn't believe the water.”

Yes, Anna would believe it. A river flowing into her shop. The hardwood floors buckling and dark stains of moisture spreading over the walls, which would need to be replastered. She pressed her fingertips against her temple as if they could push these thoughts from her mind. “Lauren, I have to call you back. I've got to take care of Earnest right now.”

Anna ran through the clinic's door to the receptionists' counter. Behind it, Mary and Yvonne, who always fussed over Earnest, were sitting side by side in dog-print scrub suits.

“Get a gurney. I need help,” Anna shouted. “Earnest's been in a fire. I can't get him in here by myself.”

The alarm on Yvonne's and Mary's faces told her that she must sound hysterical, but how could she not? She felt the eyes of all the clients in the waiting room bore into her.

Yvonne threw down her phone's headset and ran to the back of the clinic, where the gurney was kept. Mary hurried around the counter to Anna.

“I heard sirens a while ago,” Mary said.

“Our house. On Rainier. You've got to help me with Earnest. I'm terrified for him. He's in my van.”

Anna rushed back through the front door with Mary. Just as they reached Vincent, Yvonne appeared at the clinic's side door. She hurried toward them with the gurney as its wheels rattled on the parking lot's gravel.

Anna's phone rang again.
Damn.
She whipped it out of her purse.

“Anna? Doug Holloway here. Can I pick up Jane's flowers before I go to the hospital this afternoon?”

“Mr. Holloway, our house is on fire. I'm with Earnest at the vet's. He's hurt.”

“Oh, my. What happened? Can I help?”

“I can't think straight right now. I don't know about your flowers. I'll have to get back to you.” Anna realized she was shouting.

Mary and Yvonne stooped down and stepped through Vincent's sliding door. They positioned themselves next to Earnest, picked him up, and set him on the gurney as gently as they'd have set down a spiderweb's gossamer thread. Though he did not protest being moved, a shiver undulated down his body from his shoulders to his haunches.
From pain? Fear? Oh, my beloved dog
.

Anna felt like an elephant was standing on her heart.

As Mary and Yvonne rolled Earnest down the clinic's dark back hall, Anna followed. She clicked on her phone's “Favorites” list and pressed “My Honey” at the top. Jeff was her favorite of favorites, chiseled into the highest peak of her personal Mount Rushmore—and now she longed to reach him more than she ever had since they'd met. She needed him to share the worry. She wanted to tell him about the fire and beg him to leave his Seattle office and come home
now
.

But with each ring, Anna's heart beat faster. Jeff wasn't there.
Of all the times. Where
is
he?
His cell's voice mail recording finished just as Yvonne and Mary pushed Earnest into an exam room. “Call me,” Anna said and hung up.

Dr. Nilsen was waiting, his arms crossed over his white lab coat, a grim expression on his face. A blue-eyed, blond Norwegian, he usually seemed hardy, the kind of man who'd rise out of a sauna every morning, beat his chest, and charge, naked, into snow. But today his eyes had a tentative cast, which suggested he was unsure he could save Anna and Jeff 's dog. His expression said more clearly than words that he didn't like emergencies that might not end well.

“Please, please help Earnest,” Anna shouted.

“Yvonne said he'd been in a fire?” Dr. Nilsen asked.

“In the old house where my shop is. After Earnest led me outside, he ran back in and rescued the women who rent with me.”

“I'd expect no less. Such a good dog.” Dr. Nilsen patted Earnest's shoulder—but, far away in the distant land of suffering, Earnest didn't seem to notice.

Anna rubbed her hands together to warm them. Dr. Nilsen's exam room smelled of bleach. There were no windows, and the too-bright overhead fluorescent lights made the room feel harsh. They glared on the edges of the steel gurney, where Earnest was lying on his side and laboring to breathe.

His eyes were opened just to slits, and his dear, sweet face made clear that he was traumatized. On former visits, he'd greeted Dr. Nilsen with squeaks and tail wags and waited for biscuits to emerge from his lab coat's pockets. But today Earnest only twitched his tail, as if he wanted to wag it but didn't have the strength.

When Anna saw that, the tears she'd been holding back on the drive here leaked out. She quickly wiped them away with the back of her hand and coughed to keep Earnest from seeing her distress. He always seemed to feel that comforting her was his personal duty, and he would want to nuzzle and soothe her—when he couldn't lift his head.

“Will Earnest be okay?” For his sake, Anna tried to tamp down her voice's urgency.

“Let's have a look.”

When Anna's phone rang again, she prayed Jeff was on the line. She checked the caller ID. Joy. Anna let out a small involuntary cry of frustration. “I have to take this call.” She stepped into the corner of the room.

“I'm afraid I've lost everything,” Joy wailed.

“The fire's spread beyond the kitchen?”

“I don't know. We can't go inside yet.”

“Well, is the fire
out?
”

“Mostly. I think.”

“So that's good news.”

“What about our shops? What are we going to do?”

Images of her shop, a heap of ashes, flashed through Anna's mind. Her Buddhas and angels now charcoal. Her entire inventory gone. The possible loss made her head spin. It was too much to consider, when Earnest could be fading.

“Joy, we have to talk about this later. I'm here with Earnest. I have to think about him now.”

Anna hung up and turned off her phone. She'd have to wait for Jeff.

Dr. Nilsen lifted a side of Earnest's mouth and examined his gums, which looked pale.

“Will he be okay?” she asked again.

“I hope so.”

“At least he hasn't gone into shock,” Dr. Nilsen said.

“Could he
still?
”

“I'm sorry to say that anything's possible.”

Anna closed her eyes and prayed so hard that she felt she might crack open.

On the back of her eyelids appeared an image of the brawny fireman, rivulets of sweat streaking his face as he carried Earnest toward her across the lawn. In the man's arms, he was cradled like a baby, and with each step, his paws had flopped. Anna's first thought had been that he was dead, and a black fishing net of grief ensnared her soul and dragged her to the ocean's depth so she could scarcely breathe.

“I found your dog upstairs. Quick, get him to a vet,” the fireman said.

So Earnest was alive!
Relief bore Anna up through suffocating fear to air again.
But, then, he could still die,
she'd thought.

Now Dr. Nilsen worked his stethoscope's buds into his ears and gently pressed its chestpiece against Earnest's heart.

“Is it beating okay?” Anna asked.

“A little fast, but that's not surprising.” Dr. Nilsen removed the ear buds. As he quickly checked Earnest's body, he pointed out a flinch-inducing burned paw.

“Okay. I know you want answers, but they're going to take some time. Here's the plan,” he said. “We put Earnest in an ICU cage with oxygen and IV fluids for a while. We examine him more thoroughly and check his airway. Then we decide where to go from there.”

“Where do you mean?”

“We might x-ray his lungs for fluid and damage. Do blood work and a urine analysis to see if he's got carbon monoxide poisoning.”

“You think he
does?
”

“It can happen with smoke inhalation. I wish it weren't so.”

The color drained from Anna's face. Dr. Nilsen looked at her as though he thought he should offer her a glass of water and a Valium. She could tell he didn't like to see any dog fight for his life—and especially Earnest, who, he'd once said, was a favorite patient.

“Try not to worry, Anna. Tell Jeff that too,” he said. “Why don't you go back to work?”

“I promise we'll do everything we can. I'll call you the minute I have news.”

 

Though desperate to get back to the house, Anna dragged through Dr. Nilsen's waiting room with lead weighing down her shoes. Every footstep away from Earnest took effort when she was leaving him and had no guarantee he'd survive. She could not get out of her mind his whimper as she'd reached down, kissed his forehead, and told him she loved him and she would be back soon.

What if he goes into shock? What if he dies? What if I never see him again?
Waiting to hear from Dr. Nilsen was going to be wrenching. Anna needed the reassurance of Jeff 's voice.
If only he were here
.

She glanced at Dr. Nilsen's aquarium, which divided the waiting room into dog and cat sections and was supposed to keep everyone calm. But the angelfish and kissing gouramis swimming languidly through aerator bubbles did not soothe her nerves, and the orange clown fish with their white wimple markings looked too cheerful. As Anna made her way outside, she turned on her phone. She was starved to talk with Jeff. More than anyone, he'd understand how hard it had been to see Earnest hurt and Grammy's house burn. He'd know how catastrophic it would be if Anna lost her shop.

 

In her van, Anna clicked on “My Honey” again. This time she tried Jeff at his office. After three rings, for the second time she was losing hope of reaching him until Kimberly, his assistant, answered with a casual “hi.”

“Kim, I need to talk with Jeff.”

“He's not here right now.”

“Where is he? It's urgent.”

“Oh, he's at city hall,” she drawled, as if “urgent” carried the significance of a dust mite's antenna.

“Where? In Seattle?”

“In Gamble.”

“He's
here?!
”

“As far as I know.”

“Why?”

“He's filing for permits for a commercial building he designed.”

Jeff and I share everything. Why hasn't he told me?
“What building? Where?”

“It's called Cedar Place. Downtown. On your main street. It's going to replace some old Victorian house.”

Like Earnest, Anna struggled to breathe.

There was only one Victorian house on Gamble's main street and only one in the whole town with enough land for a commercial building. Kim was talking about Grammy's house.

Anna clicked off the phone. She pressed her eyes closed and rested her forehead on Vincent's steering wheel.
Today can't be happening. It just can't.
She sank into a mental swamp of brackish water.

C
HAPTER
4

A
s Jeff walked out into the sunshine, he smelled smoke. He couldn't see its source over the buildings on the street's uphill side, but the smoke seemed to be coming from Mr. Webster's direction. For years people had unsuccessfully lobbied the city for a law against burning trash in town.
The Gamble city planners should write an ordinance for that instead of harassing architects about their projects,
he thought.

Jeff turned on his phone. On the wallpaper, Earnest and Anna appeared in a photo that always cheered him. They were cuddling on the sofa in a patchwork quilt, their faces close together, tilted up toward the camera. Anna's smile and her gorgeous blue-gray eyes, which, in his opinion, could conquer nations, beamed light and love straight at him.

She had an unshakable sincerity about her. It made her look vulnerable, and it made him want to protect her. Not that she needed it. Anna could be stubborn and strong, but he liked that. She was his equal. She could take care of herself.

Jeff clicked on the e-mail icon to check for messages, but there was nothing that couldn't wait, including one from his father, whom Jeff called Brad, now living in New Jersey, two thousand miles from his mother, in Arizona. An Olympic champion flake, Brad was surely asking to borrow money that he'd spend on Jim Beam whiskey and never repay—again. Jeff would get back to him later. Much later. After Jeff 's innate sense of responsibility began to nag him.

He called his voice mail. A client asked about an appointment next week, and Anna said her quick “call me.” Jeff would phone her from the twelve-twenty ferry to his office, when they could talk in peace. Right now, he needed a minute to decompress from Randy Grabowski.

Sitting in city hall's damned meeting room with every muscle on high alert had made Jeff tense. Also troubling him was the corner he'd backed himself into. Ever since he'd taken on the project, he'd been mulling how to explain it to Anna. But he'd kept putting it off because many things could hijack a project before anyone lifted a hammer and nails—and why borrow trouble? Now, however, he'd filed for permits, and the train had left the station—the time had come. He couldn't delay telling her about Cedar Place any longer.

In the beginning, Anna might resist the idea because she was so attached to her grandmother's house and she would not want to see it torn down. Anna never seemed bothered by its warped floors, peeling paint, and dry rot. If Jeff brought up the hazards of uneven stairs and faulty wiring, she waved them off, unconcerned. She said, “It doesn't matter to me if half the windows are painted closed. If the chimney flashing leaks, it can be repaired.”

Jeff supposed that was true, but he shook his head with wonder at Anna's free spirit—and at her denial that the house needed work to make it safe. The house also needed money for repairs. But Anna was no financial star. Managing her business challenged her, and she often needed shoring up. She could be impractical, the opposite of Jeff.

In the end, he believed he could bring Anna around to approving his project. She'd understand the boost Cedar Place would give the town, and the benefit of getting rid of the old to make way for the new. He'd tell her about the three spaces he'd designed for her, Lauren, and Joy to set up shop in the new building. And about the warehouse he'd found for them in Gamble's industrial park, where they could keep their businesses going while Cedar Place was built. He'd tried to think of everything to make her happy.

But, then, he wasn't sure she'd
be
happy. That was the problem. The uncertainty about her reaction worried him more than the uncertainty about Grabowski's support.

He put on his sunglasses and started along Madison, which was three blocks downhill from Rainier. A shopper carrying a bright blue eco-friendly bag came out the back door of Pegasus, a kitchen store. Aging hippies in Birkenstocks walked by, licking ice cream cones. In Waterfront Park, the town fixture, Lloyd McGregor, was wearing kilts and playing “Amazing Grace” on bagpipes. A man with dreadlocks to his waist was sitting on a bench, writing a postcard. Bicyclists pedaled by in a swarm.

The enticing smell of cinnamon rolls wafted from the Latte Da Coffee Shop and reminded Jeff how hungry he was. He'd get a slice of pizza to take on the ferry. He walked by Puget Sound Bank, where Earnest always dragged him because his favorite teller gave him Milk-Bones, and the library, where Anna loaned Earnest to encourage kids to read out loud each Monday afternoon. Jeff avoided Rainier—and Plant Parenthood—where he'd risk running into Anna and have to explain what he was doing on the island in the middle of the day. He had to prepare himself before talking with her about Cedar Place.

Should I do it tonight?
Jeff nodded to himself, resolved.

He'd take Anna to Sawyer's. They'd sit at a quiet table in a corner with a candle flickering between them and lighting up her creamy skin. They'd drink a glass of wine, and he'd reach over and smooth her hair, a gesture that always made her close her eyes. Then he'd tell her about his project and explain that it wasn't about him. It was about them. And the community they loved. And the raise he'd get so they could marry.

Yes. That was the honest way to go.

 

On Madison, a block from the ferry terminal, was Say Cheese. Jeff often came here for pizza so he could share a bite with Earnest. It was Earnest's favorite place on earth because it had a permanent Parmesan reek. He would sell his soul into slavery for any kind of cheese—the more fat in it the better, but Parmesan was his favorite. How he knew what it tasted like was a mystery, because he gulped it down—no chewing, one swallow, and that was it.

Say Cheese was located in a small white bungalow, built in 1915, according to a framed sign beside the door. On the front porch was a cougar-sized sculpture of a housecat, next to three tables, where Earnest liked to put on his starving desperado act. He planted himself at a customer's feet, gazed up at a pizza bite about to be taken, and conveyed with anguished eyes his one small step from malnutrition. It worked every time.

Inside, Jeff joined the lunch crowd waiting at the counter for pizza slices to go. On this warm day the darkened room and overhead fan did little to cool the oven's heat. A vague smell of sweat joined the cheese, salami, and garlic.

“Hey, Tony,” Jeff said to the owner, who had a buzz cut and wore a gold stud in one ear. “You have a pesto chicken slice?”

“Sure.” Tony took Jeff's five-dollar bill and started counting out change from an ancient cash register. “How's it going up at Anna's shop?”

“What do you mean?”

“The fire department was there this morning.”

Fire department?!
Jeff froze. A jolt of fight-or-flight coursed through him. His heart pounded.

“I thought you'd come back from Seattle to help,” Tony said.

“I didn't know. Is anybody hurt?”

Tony shrugged. “I couldn't leave here to find out.”

A bead of sweat trickled down Jeff 's spine. He had to get over there. “Forget the pizza.” With long, hurried strides, he headed toward the front door.

“Wait. Go through there.” Tony pointed to a ten-foot hallway leading to a screen door in the back. “From the parking lot, there's a shortcut to Rainier.”

Jeff turned and rushed down the hall.

“Your money!” Tony shouted.

“Later.” Money was the last thing on Jeff's mind if the person and dog he loved most in the world could be hurt.

As the screen door slammed behind him, bright sun, smoke, and dust from the unpaved lot stung his eyes. He blinked and wiped them with the back of his hand. Behind a row of parked cars, he saw a narrow path through menacing eight-foot-tall blackberry bushes.
So what do a few thorn scratches matter?
He tucked his briefcase under his arm and ran.