Authors: Sandra D. Bricker
“Sorry, folks,” the pilot announced. “We’re running into some bad weather as we cross the border into Tennessee. I’m turning on the seatbelt sign and would like everyone to remain in their seats with their seatbelts securely fastened until we cross down into Georgia and find some blue skies.”
Jared placed his hand over hers and squeezed it. He didn’t know how many years it had been since he’d seen a woman over thirty blush, but Liv's cheeks were stained a light crimson.
“I’m sorry,” she said, as she pulled her hand away.
“For what? I appreciated having someone to hold on to.”
She laughed and, again, it was lyrical. Jared felt his insides twist.
You’re not a teenager anymore, man. Get hold of yourself.
“You know,” he said, working hard to summon up the verbiage to complete the thought, “I was wondering if you’d like to—”
The jet dropped and bounced, and Liv let out a scream and slapped her hands over her mouth. Closing her eyes, she pulled the seatbelt as snug as it would go, and then clamped down on the arms of her seat.
Even after the pilot let them know that they’d reached clearer skies, Liv remained glued to the armrests, her eyes closed, and her head tilted back. Her lightly frosted lips twitched slightly, and he thought she might be praying. Jared didn’t have the heart to intrude, so he put his suggestion that they have dinner on hold until they landed and headed in the direction of baggage claim. He knew she might be flying into Fort Myers and vacationing an hour or more up or down the coast, but he didn’t really care how far he would have to drive. He had the unsettling inclination that the possibility of one meal with this woman might have been worth riding a camel across the desert to reach her tent.
After they disembarked Jared stuck close to her as the current of people moved them along, but they were immediately separated by an electric cart and a stream of wayward passengers trying to get out of its way. A flight had just arrived at the gate across from theirs, and the influx of people only made it more difficult to keep his eyes on Liv as the tide dragged her farther away from him.
Jared pushed his way toward baggage claim and scanned the crowd. Not a hint of red hair in sight. The couple from his original row waved at him from the other side, and he tapped the rail in irritation as he waited for the luggage to arrive. His heart pounded out a mantra as he scanned the faces at the carousel.
Where is she? Where is she? Where IS she?
Boxes and suitcases began sliding down the metal ramp and making the rounds in front of the crowd. He moved into a clear spot and grabbed his garment bag as it passed by at knee level. Then he helped the woman next to him as she struggled with an overstuffed canvas duffle and a damaged Samsonite case held together with twine.
“I was afraid that might happen,” she told him. “Thanks for your help.”
“Any time.”
Jared stood back and inspected the throng of people still gathering their belongings. She’d said she was on vacation; certainly, she would have luggage to pick up. But where was she?
He glanced through the windows and noticed a blue Super Shuttle van slowing at the curb. A cop in an airport vest waved the van on after a moment, and the driver slapped the steering wheel before taking off. Jared looked back one more time in hopes of a glimpse of red hair, but she was nowhere in sight.
He slowly made his way to the automatic door, and then stood there blocking the flow of pedestrian traffic as he scanned each and every face within eyeshot. When the blue van came around again and hugged the curb, Jared sighed and reluctantly jogged toward it.
“Jared Hunt,” he told the driver as he boarded.
“I thought you were lost.”
“Not me,” he told him, tossing his bag into the rack. “Somebody else.”
Prudence screeched to a stop and then stood there, planted.
Her eyes stung, and they ached from opening up so round and wide. Once again, she found herself wishing she’d never ventured away from home. She’d never seen a creature like this one in all her days in the valley.
It growled at her and snorted, and there seemed to be fire burning in its bright golden eyes. She tried to run away, she really did, but her legs just wouldn’t move from that spot. Surely this beast would tear her to pieces and have her as a midday snack!
“Oh, me, oh, my,” Prudence brayed. “What a horrible way to go.”
L
iv looped the airport three times before finding her way to the parkway. She tossed Hallie's handwritten directions to Josie's home up on the dash of her rental and settled back into the leather seat.
For the twentieth time since leaving the airport, she thought of Jared Hunt and wished she hadn’t stopped in the ladies’ room. Not that she could have helped it, of course. Nearly three hours on a plane without braving the turbulence to use the facilities, and she would have taken off for the ladies’ room at a full run if not for the possibility that he was watching.
The line was long, but she’d hurried through it, only to discover that the beautiful passenger with the toothpaste commercial smile was already gone and out the double doors into the greater Fort Myers area, never to be seen or heard from again. It was a shame, really. Liv had never met a man who could make her heart flutter and her palms sweat; not even Robert had elicited such a reaction. Frankly, she’d long suspected she had passed the age where palpitations and perspiration were still a possibility. It was kind of nice to know she still had it in her. Perhaps she wasn’t lost on a downward spiral to an old-age home after all. At least not quite yet.
Liv opened the window and let the balmy breeze caress her face as she followed a Lincoln Continental with a penchant for braking for no apparent reason. The sun was warm and the skies a vibrant blue, hardly a cloud anywhere in sight. Several strange white birds that looked like storks pecked at the ground at the side of the road.
“What in the world?”
As she drove by them, Liv let out a laugh. “We’re not in Kansas anymore,” she said. “Or Ohio either.”
Josie's house was larger than she’d expected, an L-shaped stucco ranch with palm trees and flowering pink shrubs in the front yard. Several orange-pink and green plastic palms were placed in the rock garden near the front door, and she groaned as she leaned over and picked them up, one at a time, in search of the house key until she found it.
A large glazed Mexican tile was cemented into the stucco over the front door. Enter and be blessed, it read.
“Gladly,” Liv muttered.
No sooner had she turned over the deadbolt than the sound of scampering paws and snarling growls drew closer. A matted, hairy thing that resembled a dog, wearing a large lampshade around its neck, barreled toward her, and Liv instinctively backed out the door again and yanked it shut.
The illustrious Missy Boofer, no doubt
, she thought, her hand still on the knob.
As the animal threw itself at the front door several times, snorting and barking, she released her hold completely, stepped back even farther, and placed her hand on her hip as she groaned. “Now what?”
Deciding on a different plan of attack, Liv went back to the car and unloaded her luggage to the front porch. When silence indicated that the dog had taken a break, she quickly opened the door, tossed the larger bag inside, and slammed the door again just as Boofer started another tirade.
“Okay,” Liv said in as friendly a voice as she could muster, “I understand.”
Two more stabs at entering initiated a fury of snarls and barks. When the dog finally settled down, Liv sent a quick wish upward, opened the door, and stepped inside.
Boofer was a four-legged contradiction. Baring her teeth as she growled at Liv, the ball of coarse fur was wrapped in a pink doggie T-shirt with
Princess in Training
written across the back in glittering rhinestones. She ran toward Liv, her big old lampshade rocking from side to side, and she seemed to be spitting as she protested Liv's presence. Missy curled her upper lip at Liv.
Liv took a deep breath, extended her index finger, and, in the loudest voice she could muster, shouted, “Look!”
The dog stopped in its tracks, sliding the rest of the way toward her on its behind.
“I am not a robber. I’m a friend. I come in peace. Your crazy owner has asked me to come here and take care of you, and that's what I’m going to do. You are not going to bite me or growl at me anymore. Is that understood?”
Apparently not, because the dog snarled at her, but only once.
“Okay. Now I’m going to just walk through here, and you can either come with me or not. It's up to you. But you’re going to let me pass.”
When the dog did let her pass, Liv whispered, “Thank you, Jesus.”
Beautiful terrazzo tiles created a subtle pattern on the floor throughout the house, and thick, colorful area rugs gave the place a foundational personality that greeted her from room to room. The kitchen was a Tuscan paradise, with a center island and a magnificent hooded gas stove and grill. Beyond the sliding glass doors at one end of the sunroom was a sparkling blue pool encircled with terrazzo tiles and a free-standing hot tub, barbecue grill, and cushioned bamboo lounge chairs, all caged inside a large, screened lanai. A grassy, landscaped yard extended beyond the lanai, and a tall slatted fence allowed privacy from the view of those occupying the house on the other side.
Boofer remained right on her heels as Liv wandered down the hallway. The walls were dotted with framed photographs of Hallie, Jim, and the kids. She passed a bathroom and two small guest rooms before reaching a master suite that just about took her breath away. Moss green walls surrounded a wood-framed queen bed with striking barley-twisted posters, a headboard of framed panels, and a rosewood inlay with a carved rope molding that arched the design. A thick paisley
comforter in greens, golds, and wines extended from a pile of enormous pillows, and the deep emerald green rug covering the tile floor was plush and inviting.
“Well, Boofer, I’d say you’ve got quite a little setup here in Florida.” Boofer flopped to a sitting position beside her. “What do you say you carry in my luggage while I take a nap, huh? Is that a deal?”
The dog just whined and scratched the lampshade with her back paw in an attempt to knock it off. When she wasn’t able to break free, she looked up at Liv and growled.
“Hey. What did I say about growling at me?”
Boofer seemed to consider the question, then just dropped to her side and rolled onto the lampshade with a whine.
“That's more like it.”
A purple sticky note stuck to the television screen in the living room invited Liv to “turn it on and press play,” which she did. She hadn’t seen Josie Parish in a couple of years, but the sweet, silver-haired comedienne looked just the same.
“Hi, there, Olivia,” she said in her high-pitched Mrs. Butterworth voice as she wrinkled her nose from inside the television. “And welcome to sunny Florida. Isn’t it just beautiful? It's not always this pretty, like when we move into hurricane season a couple of times a year, but I predict it will be just lovely while you’re here. Oh, other than some afternoon showers that sometimes last about an hour or so, and then they go away and the sun comes out again.”