Sit! Stay! Speak! (2 page)

A
DDIE BURST THROUGH THE DOORS OF THE
D
IXON
V
ETERINARY
Clinic, her arms wrapped around a blood-soaked blanket. “I need help, please!”

The leggy woman at the front desk looked up from her cell phone and replied, “I'm sorry, but we're closed.”

“Please!” Addie nodded to the mass she was carrying. “This dog. It needs help.”

“Ma'am, I . . .”

“This dog is dying,” Addie hissed. “You show me where the vet is.”

“Back this way. He's back this way,” the woman replied, opening the doors to the back of the clinic.

Addie followed her, trying not to clench the dog too tightly in her arms. She could still feel it breathing, but its breath was ragged. “I don't know if he's going to make it,” Addie continued. “I just found him like this. Who . . . who does this?”

“Dr. Dixon!” The woman rapped heavily on a closed door. “Dr. Dixon, open up! It's an emergency!”

A small, wiry man with salt-and-pepper hair opened the door. “Wanda? What is it?”

Addie didn't wait for Wanda to answer. “I found this dog. He's been . . . I don't know . . . I think he's dying.” She pushed past the man and laid the dog down on the table inside the room. “Please help him.”

Dr. Dixon stepped over to the table and unwrapped the blanket. “Sweet Jesus. What happened here?”

Addie stepped back from the table, taking a breath for what felt to her like the first time in minutes. “I don't know. I don't know. I was taking a walk. I heard a noise. I found him like this.”

The vet's hands hovered above the bloody mass in front of him. “He seems to be alive. I'll take a look. Why don't you have a seat in the waiting room, okay?”

Addie opened her mouth to protest, but Wanda caught her elbow and whispered, “It'll be okay, honey. Come on out here with me.”

Addie nodded and followed the receptionist through the doors. As she left, she noticed another man standing at the back of the room, his eyes fixed on her. She hadn't seen anyone else in the room until now. It occurred to her how she must look. What it all must look like.

“I'm so sorry,” Addie apologized. “I didn't mean to yell at you earlier.”

Wanda smiled and sat down next to her. “It's okay, honey. I know you were scared. I didn't see what you had in your hands until it was too late. Otherwise I never would've tried to send you
away.” She had a thick, southern drawl that put Addie at ease. She sounded like Aunt Tilda, even though she couldn't have been much older than Addie. There were lines that formed around the corners of her eyes that contradicted the sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose. “Where did you find that poor thing?”

Addie swallowed. Her mouth felt very dry all of a sudden. “I was taking a walk over by the bridge . . . just outside of town . . . right before you get to the Mississippi line . . . you know, over by the casino?”

Wanda raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow and replied, “What were you doing on that side of town? That's no place to be alone, especially at night.”

“I . . . I didn't know,” Addie admitted. “I just moved here.”

“How did you even know to get over there?”

Addie looked up from her hands and at the woman sitting next to her. “My great-aunt was Tilda Andrews. I used to visit her in the summer. When I was a kid, that was where she took me to have picnics . . . of course, that was fifteen years ago . . .”

“Oh, Miss Tilda!” Wanda exclaimed. “Of course! I should have known. I heard you moved into her old house. You must be Adelaide. I used to come out and take care of her cats once she got too old to come to the clinic.”

“You're that Wanda? Wanda Carter? Aunt Tilda used to talk about you all the time. She loved you.”

Wanda clasped Addie's hands in hers. “What a small world. I'm so glad to meet you, even if it is under these circumstances. We'll have to be friends now, you know.”

“I'm just here for a few months—long enough to get the house sold,” Addie replied.

Wanda frowned for a second and then flashed Addie another smile. “Well, we can be friends until then!”

The doors swung open and the man from the back of the examination room strode out. He looked in the women's direction and said, “Miss Wanda, Doc says you can go on home. He says to tell you”—he nodded in Addie's direction—“he'll be out in just a few minutes.”

“Is the dog okay?” Addie asked. She released Wanda's hands. “Is he going to live?”

“I think he's going to make it.” The man gave her a lopsided smile. “But I'm not the doc, so don't hold me to it.”

Wanda stood up and brushed off her pale pink scrub pants. “I've got to get going, Addie.” She walked over to the reception desk and scribbled something down on a Post-it note. “Here's my number. We'll get together soon.”

She hurried out the door, leaving Addie alone with the stranger who stood there silently, his hands shoved into his jeans pockets. Addie watched him, unsure of what to say. He was tall, very tall, at least six foot four. He was what her mother would have called strapping. He had wheat-colored hair that fell just above his brow line, and a wide mouth that Addie assumed held perfectly straight teeth to match his perfectly straight posture. Even though he was looking at the floor, she could tell his eyes were blue. He was young, but older than she. Maybe thirty? She couldn't tell just by looking at him.

He reminded her of a farmer, like most of the men in Eunice. He was wearing work boots that were caked in mud, and his jeans and white T-shirt were also slightly dingy. He looked like he'd just come in from off a tractor somewhere, and Addie didn't know why, but the image made her want to giggle.

After what felt like hours, Addie mustered up enough courage to break the silence. “I didn't see you standing in the room with Dr. Dixon. I'm sorry I interrupted you all. I was a bit frantic.”

The man shrugged and replied, “It's no big deal. We were just talking cattle.”

“I'm glad he was still here,” Addie said. “I didn't know where to take him. I just remembered seeing this place the day I got into town. I'm the only person on the planet without a GPS.”

When he didn't respond, Addie continued. “I've just been here a few days. My aunt died. She left me her house. I don't even know what I'm doing here. I haven't been here since I was a kid. I just wanted to go for a walk. I didn't know the camping grounds had turned into a trash dump.”

His eyes snapped up to her and he replied, “You were down by the old campgrounds? What were you doing down there so late?”

“It's not safe at night,” Addie cut him off. “I know. I know.”

“So you're the one who moved into Miss Tilda's place?” He stuck out his hand. “I'm Jasper. Jasper Floyd.”

Addie stood up and moved toward him. His hand practically swallowed hers. “I'm Adelaide Andrews. I didn't move here, exactly. I'm just sort of . . . passing through.”

“I'll have to tell my mother that I met you.”

“Do I know your mother?”

“No, I'm sure you don't,” Jasper replied. “But she and her friends have been dying to know what's been going on over at Tilda's. The place had been sitting empty for so long people were beginning to talk.”

“Talk about what?”

Jasper adjusted the green Floyd Farms hat on his head and said, “You're really not from here, huh?”

There was an awkward pause and Addie breathed a sigh of relief when Dr. Dixon walked into the room.

“I think your dog is going to live,” the veterinarian stated. “No broken bones, just a lot of blood. There were some cuts that required stitches, and some bite wounds. And I think he might have been shot.”

“Shot?” Addie sputtered. “You think he was shot?”

Dr. Dixon adjusted his wire-framed glasses and replied, “I don't know. It was a clean exit. He's going to lose an ear. But I don't think there is any internal bleeding.”

“But he'll be okay?” Addie could barely speak. Her anger was bubbling.

“In a couple of days you can take him home.”

“He's not my dog,” she admitted. “I found him. Down by the river.”

“I figured as much,” Dr. Dixon replied. “He's not the first I've seen. I can call animal control in the morning. But I should tell you—they'll probably have me put him down. His care will be expensive. And he's a pit bull on top of that.”

“I don't live here,” Addie continued. “I mean, I do. But not indefinitely.”

Jasper and the veterinarian shared a look.

Addie choked back a sob. “Please don't call animal control. I'll pay his bill. I'll keep him.”

“We can work that out when you come to pick him up.” Dr. Dixon smiled at her warmly. “It's late, and there's nothing more you can do for him tonight. Why don't you go on home?”

“Okay.” Addie felt her jeans pocket for her car keys. “Thank you so much.”

The veterinarian waved her off. “It's fine. Everything will be fine.”

“I'll check on him tomorrow, if that's okay,” Addie replied.

“Better give him a couple of days before he's ready.”

Addie nodded and turned toward Jasper. “It was nice to meet you, Jasper.”

Before he could respond, Addie was out the door and into the muggy May night, leaving two bewildered men staring after her.

E
UNICE WAS A LITTLE TOWN OF TEN THOUSAND PEOPLE NESTLED
deep within the heart of the Arkansas Delta. It was the kind of place where people worked, lived, and died generation after generation. It was the kind of place oblivious to the outside world. It was the kind of place Addie had come to in an attempt to escape, but she couldn't shake the events of the previous evening.

Groggy, she sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. If she was going to be bringing a dog here, she'd have to get the house in order. There was a shed out back that she planned on cleaning out as well. Once she mustered up the energy. “At least I've got some motivation,” she said out loud to her empty house.

The house was rather adorable. It sat on a large lot on a dead-end street. The neighbors had kept the yard work up after Aunt Tilda died last autumn. Addie guessed that was what Jasper had meant when he mentioned the house sitting empty, although she didn't know why people would care. Her aunt had kept the
house, a nineteenth-century bungalow, nice and neat. It was small, as bungalows usually are, but there was plenty of space for one person. The house had a steeply pitched roof covering a wide porch that Addie was in love with. As a child, she'd spent many summer nights playing on that porch. She pictured herself lounging there at night, maybe with a good book and a glass of wine. The living room was nice and large, and there were two bedrooms for Addie to choose from. Unlike the carpet that Addie was used to in the houses in Chicago, her aunt's house had hardwood floors throughout, and she was still getting used to the creaking noise they made every time she walked. The kitchen overlooked the backyard, which had once held a beautiful garden.

The outside of the house could use a fresh coat of paint, Addie mused, but she had no idea where she was going to find the odd shade of yellow it had been painted.
Yes, there is some work to do,
Addie thought,
but it's nothing I can't handle.

It wasn't the kind of house in which Addie had ever envisioned herself living. Of course, this wasn't the town in which she'd ever envisioned herself living. The only place she'd ever called home was Chicago, and there, she'd only ever lived in an apartment.

The phone rang, and Addie shook herself out of her daydream.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Adelaide, honey.” Her mother's voice was smooth and calm. “How are you? You were supposed to call last night.”

Addie swung her legs over the side of the bed. “I'm sorry, Mom. I was so tired, I must have fallen asleep.”

“What have you been up to?”

“Just unpacking, mostly. How is everything?”

“Oh, we're good. You know Jerry. Retirement is boring him. I expect he'll be back at work before the summer is out.”

“I still can't believe he actually retired!” Addie giggled. “Is he marching around shouting orders at the cats?”

“More like marching around shouting orders at his wife,” Addie's mother grumbled. “Once a marine, always a marine.”

Addie rolled her eyes, even though her mother couldn't see her. “Oh, I know.”

“He said to tell you hello.”

Addie grinned into the receiver, picturing the gruff hug her stepfather had given her the day she left Chicago. “Tell him I said hello, too.”

“Addie, there's something else. The reason I called. Jerry finally sold his house in Wisconsin.” Her mother paused, exhaling. “He wants to give you some of the money.”

“No way. I don't want Jerry giving me any money. That's his money.”

“I told him that's what you'd say.”

“I have savings.”

“But he wants to do this for you,” Addie's mother replied. “I know you have some savings, but that won't last forever. It has been years since the last time I saw that house, but Addie, honey, it needed work. Even then.”

“I know,” Addie conceded. “But I think I can fix it up enough to sell.”

“I'm sure you can.”

“And I know that there are a few antiques that I can refinish and sell—some old furniture.”

There was a pause and her mother said, “You sound like Jonah.”

“Mom, I've got to let you go,” Addie said. “I've got a lot to do around the house today.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” her mother began. “I didn't mean to upset you.”

“I'm not upset,” Addie replied. “Just busy. We'll talk tomorrow.”

“So you'll take the money?”

Addie sighed. “As a
loan.
I'll pay Jerry back. With interest.”

“Fine, fine.”

“I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Addie threw herself down onto the bed. She stared at the ceiling for a long time before sitting up, grabbing her jeans, and pulling them on. She felt bad cutting off the conversation with her mother. But it was just so hard to hear his name. So hard. She shook her head, and the shake resonated throughout the rest of her body.
I've got too much to get done today,
she thought. She rolled off the bed and headed to the hardware store determined to get started on the renovation of her new temporary home.

There was nothing that Adelaide Andrews hated more than feeling out of place. And once inside Linstrom's hardware store, that's exactly what she felt. The inside of the store looked nothing like what she was used to back home in Chicago.

“Can I help you with something?” A man in a red-and-white-striped apron appeared in front of her. “You look a tad lost.”

“I know what I'm looking for,” Addie replied. “But I don't know where to find it.”

The man chuckled. “Is there a certain project you're working on?”

“I'll be refinishing some furniture soon.” Addie glanced down at her list. “I need to repaint the outside of my house. And I need to replace the showerhead in the bathroom. And I need to plant a garden. Also, how much would it cost to have my floors refinished?”

The man held up his hands and took a step back. “Whoa, whoa there, one thing at a time. Let me see this list.”

Addie handed him the list. “I'm in over my head, aren't I?”

“Well . . . like I said, let's just take it one thing at a time,” the man responded. “I think you could start with replacing that showerhead. You can find those over in aisle 13.”

“Okay, thanks.” Addie was relieved to have some direction.

“My name is Tom. Holler at me if you need help finding anything else.”

Addie waved at him and wandered off in search of aisle 13. As she stood in front of the different showerheads, she closed her eyes, trying to remember what her shower looked like. She wished she'd taken a picture of it with her phone. “Maybe I don't need to shower,” Addie wondered aloud. “Maybe I can just run through the neighbor's sprinkler.”

“I'm pretty sure that's illegal in all fifty states,” said a voice behind her.

Addie turned around to see Jasper standing in front of her. “You might want to tell that to my eighty-year-old neighbor. That seems to be his favorite pastime.”

“That doesn't make it any less illegal.”

Addie raised an eyebrow. “What are you, some kind of lawyer?”

“I used to be.” Jasper reached above her to pluck a showerhead from the shelf. “Here, I think this one will probably work for general purposes.”

“And now you just hang out in the hardware store assisting confused young girls?”

“Something like that.” Jasper's face was expressionless, but Addie could tell he was trying to stifle a smile. “You aren't so young.”

There was an awkward silence, and Addie was relieved that this time she wasn't shaking Jasper's hand as it happened.

“Well”—Addie held up the box with the showerhead inside—“thanks for your help, Counselor. I've got to go and find some hundred-fifty-grit sandpaper.” She brushed past him, clutching the box to her chest. She could feel his eyes on her, and she wondered what Jasper meant when he said he “used to be” a lawyer. No wonder he made her nervous.

And for Addie, that was almost as bad as feeling out of place.