Detours (5 page)

“I want to hear more about Nathan, but first I need to ask how he knew what house to go to.”

“When I was driving you to the hospital, I saw your appointment book and your address book in the console of your truck. One of the first things you told me this morning when we were stuck in the traffic backup was that the house you were trying to get to was on Ponderosa Lane. The appointment book said, ‘Fredrick. Holly bushes. A.M.’ I thumbed through your address book until I found a Fredrick Nyegard on Ponderosa.” Mary twirled her right hand in the air and then made a seated, half-bow from the waist. “Voilá.”

Ellis whistled a two-note appreciation. “Does the CIA know about you? That was pretty clever.”

“Flatterer.”

“Merely the truth.” Ellis tipped her head in Mary’s direction. “So tell me the rest of it.”

“You’d given me your wallet to hold when they took you for x-rays at the emergency room. I knew you were too banged up to manage for yourself, and I didn’t know if you had anyone you could stay with, so I decided the easiest thing would be to bring you here, at least for tonight.”

Ellis tried to interrupt, but Mary kept talking.

“It was a simple matter to check your driver’s license for your address. I already had your keys, so when Nathan got back here after doing the bushes, I had him stay to keep an eye on Natalie and an ear out for you while I dropped off your prescriptions and ran to your place to get Sam and her dog food and pick up some clothes and your toothbrush.”

“But how did you know I had a dog named Sam?”

“You told me.”

“I did? When?”

“When you were talking in your sleep on the drive from the hospital.”

Ellis hesitated before replying. “Uh-oh,” she said quietly.

“Pardon?”

Ellis squirmed. “I’ve been told that I sometimes say some stupid things when I talk in my sleep.”

“Is that so? Told by whom?” Mary leaned forward in her seat.

“Never mind. That’s a topic for another time.” Ellis reached down and massaged her right leg just above the knee.

“I’ll remember that and hold you to it. Does your upper leg hurt?”

“A little. I don’t suppose bouncing it along LaVista Road did it any favors.”

“You’re right about that. My Xterra would probably say the same thing.”

Ellis slapped herself lightly on the cheek. “That’s something else I forgot all about—your SUV got hit because of me.”

“Not exactly. It got hit because I was trying to do two things at once, one of which was looking backwards and the other of which was driving forwards.”

“How bad is the damage?”

“Not too bad, as best I could tell, but I only got a quick look while the other driver and I were exchanging information. His Crown Vic looked a lot worse than my lichen wagon.”

“Your lichen wagon?”

“Yeah, the old Moss mobile.”

“Inherited your dad’s penchant for puns, I see. Good thing you picked a green vehicle.”

“Wouldn’t have mattered. I’d have come up with an appropriate name no matter what color it was.”

“I believe it.” Ellis grinned wryly. “Sorry about the wreck. I’ll be glad to take a look at it in the morning to see if I can tell if the frame is bent.”

“It’s still on the pull-off at the house on LaVista where I parked it after the accident.”

“We need to go get it.” Ellis reached for her crutches.

“Right. You can drive left-footed while you drape your cast over the center console. And then in the morning, you can hang upside down one-handed from the roof rack to check the frame. That should work out nicely.”

“Oh yeah. I keep forgetting I’m damaged goods.”

“Damaged goods is an overstatement. You’re just temporarily incapacitated, Gretchen.”

“I bet I haven’t heard anyone call me by my real name in six months, and now that’s twice today you’ve called me Gretchen.” Ellis cleared her throat dramatically. “Since we’re on the subject of names, about Nathan…” She looked sternly at Mary. “Even though I may not always act like it, I
am
more than nine years old, and I’m not going to let you get away with the quick-switch ploy you pulled on your daughter to change the subject.”

“I haven’t done any fancy footwork to avoid telling you about Nathan. I’ve simply been answering other questions as you asked them. What do you want to know?”

Before Ellis could speak, the back door flew open and Natalie and Sam bounded into the kitchen.

Natalie shouted, “Can we get a dog, Mom? Sam’s lots better at bringing stuff back than Swiffer is.” Sam raced to the sofa and flopped her head on Ellis’s chest. Natalie was a pace or two behind the dog.

“Go close the door, Natalie, and turn off the outside lights.”

“All right.” Natalie did as her mother directed, then returned to the living room. “Can Sam sleep in my room tonight?”

“Sam probably should sleep with Ellis tonight.”

“How come?”

“Because it’s their first night here, and we don’t want Sam to be afraid because she’s in a strange house.”

“Would she be afraid, Ellis?”

The same light that Ellis had noticed in Mary’s eyes on more than one occasion danced in the bluest part of Natalie’s eyes as she regarded Ellis, waiting for her reply. “I don’t know. Sam has never slept anywhere other than at my apartment.” Sam lifted her head from Ellis’s chest, rocked back on her haunches, and sat on the floor between Ellis on one side and Natalie kneeling beside her on the other.

“Perfect.” Natalie petted Sam as she spoke. “If she’s never done it before, she won’t know to be scared, so she can sleep with me.”

Mary spoke in a low voice. “A word of advice, Ellis. You cannot win by reasoning. If you don’t want the dog to sleep with her, it will be by enforced edict, not because you won the debate.”

Ellis raised her hands, palms up. “I don’t care if Sam sleeps in her room. Do you care?”

Mary looked heavenward. “If Natalie had her way, she’d have a dog, a bunny, a pony, a turtle, a gerbil, an ant farm, an emu, and an elephant sleep in her room every night.”

“And don’t forget Swiffer,” Natalie said as she wrapped her arms around the dog’s neck and hugged her. “Oh, and my baby sister.”

“It’s about your bedtime, missy.” Mary rose from her seat. “Remember your manners and say good night to Ellis.”

“G’night, Ellis. I’m sorry you hurt your foot, but I’m glad you and your dog came to live with us.” To Ellis’s surprise, Natalie edged around Sam, leaned forward, and gave her a quick hug. “Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite. If you see some on the wall, take your shoe and squish ’em all.”

“Natalie, really,” Mary said. “Is that a nice thing to say to company?” She waved her hand toward the hallway. “Go on. Get into your PJs and brush your teeth. I’ll be in to smell your breath in a few minutes.”

“Maybe I’ll just moosh some toothpaste around in my mouth. You won’t know for sure if I brushed or not.”

“When all your teeth are lying in a pile beside your pillow, I’ll know, and then you’ll be sorry.” Mary swatted Natalie’s rump. “No stalling. Move it.”

Natalie left the living room, and Sam hastened along behind her. Mary waited until she heard the hallway bathroom door close before speaking. She extended her arm so that she could rub the back of Ellis’s wrist with her index finger. “Thanks for being a good sport about letting the dog sleep with her.”

“When Natalie finds out what a bed hog Sam is, she’ll regret asking.” Ellis grimaced as pain twanged in her ankle. “And as lousy as this foot feels, I’m glad I won’t have to try to find a way to bend my body around her tonight. Sam’s only about thirty-five pounds, but when she gets in the bed, she miraculously triples her size and takes up everything except my pillow and a postage stamp’s worth of space.”

“Should be quite a contest, then. Nat’s the same way. I swear she grows four extra legs and three more arms when she falls asleep. She sprawls out like a mutant octopus.”

“Maybe we should put a video camera in there with them tonight. Might be good for a few laughs.”

“Better not,” Mary said as she shook her head. “Either the ASPCA or the welfare board would have us up on charges.” Mary rolled her shoulders, then rocked back and forth in the glider a time or two. “Excuse me while I go reenact Sherman’s siege of Atlanta and try to convince my kid that going to bed is not the single worst punishment inflicted on a living entity.”

“Sure.” Ellis winced in pain. “How long ’til I can have my next happy pill, Mommy?”

“You’re only supposed to have a pain pill every four hours, but the instructions on the bottle said you could take a second one sooner if you need it, as long as you don’t have more than six in a twenty-four-hour period.” Mary got up. “I’ll bring you another one after I get Natalie settled in.”

“Good deal. If I knew any military secrets, I’d tell ’em if it meant I could get something to make this foot quit yelling.”

∗ ∗ ∗ ∗

“Your dog is an amazing creature,” Mary said as she breezed through the living room and into the kitchen. She was back in a moment and handed a bottle of water and a pill to Ellis, who was propped in the corner of the sofa. “Here. I promised you a boost to take the edge off your pain.” Mary dropped into the glider, still sitting at a right angle to the sofa.

“Thanks.” Ellis swallowed the pill with a quick slug from the bottle. “My dog is amazing because?”

“Because it usually takes me anywhere from thirty minutes to an hour to get Natalie into bed. Tonight, by the time I got to her room, she was under the covers. Well, under the covers except for the arm she’s got wrapped around Sam’s neck.”

“Sounds like a Rockwell painting.”

“It is, and when you add in the fact that Swiffer is on the end of the bed, tucked up into her usual impersonation of a meatloaf, they could be a fund-raising poster for the Humane Society.”

“Sam and Swiffer are both on the bed?”

“Like it’s the most normal thing in the world.”

“No growling? No hissing?”

“Not that I heard. They didn’t even really act out when they first laid eyes on each other this afternoon.”

“Ah, yes, a chapter in that untold saga you’ve been promising to share with me.”

“Not really all that much to tell.”

“Humor me. I’ve got a royal boo-boo.” Ellis made a pathetic whimpering sound and momentarily raised her foot. “See? It has its very own pillow throne.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Mary bent forward and pretended to adjust an imaginary crown on Ellis’s head. “I was a little worried that Sam wouldn’t like some stranger coming into her territory, so I picked up some puppy treats at the drugstore where I got your prescriptions filled.”

“Bribery is always a good approach.”

“It works with nine-year-old daughters. I figured it might work on other semi-domesticated things, too.” Mary hooked her foot on the rung of the footrest and pulled it closer to her chair. “If you didn’t already know it, as a watchdog, Sam would make a good Wal-Mart greeter.”

Ellis laughed appreciatively. “Yeah, I have to agree with you. She’s a lover, not a fighter.”

“So anyway, I grabbed a bunch of stuff at your place and then lured Sam out of your apartment with doggie biscuits. She loves to ride in the truck, doesn’t she?”

“Uh-huh. I’m hoping I can take her with me on some of my landscaping jobs this spring and summer. I hate leaving her in the apartment all day.”

“You said you’d only had her about six months, right?”

“When did I say that?”

“More of that talking-in-your-sleep conversation we had on the drive home from the emergency room.”

Ellis squirmed on the sofa. “Finish telling me about Sam and Swiffer, and then you’d better tell me what other stuff I blabbed to you.”

“Guilty conscience?” Mary asked as she tilted her head and raised an eyebrow.

“Not really. I just want a chance to set the record straight in case I said something I shouldn’t have.”

“Okay, that will be the next topic on our discussion agenda.” Mary settled against the back of the chair. “So I loaded Sam up in the backseat of your truck and tooled on back here. She had her leash on and had long since figured out I had a pocket full of cookies she could get if she played her cards right. We came in the house through the kitchen door.” Mary flipped her hand in the general direction of the kitchen. “Of course, I could see the living room from there. Nathan was sitting in this chair, but it was in its regular place. Natalie was on the footrest, with Swiffer on the floor between them.”

“Did the cat freak out when she saw Sam?”

“You don’t know Swiffer. She’s quite sure she’s the reason the sun comes up each morning and likewise sure any other living thing was put on the planet to bow to her wishes. She puffed herself out to twice her usual size—which is going some when you consider how fluffy she is to begin with—and fixed a stare on Sam that should have ignited Sam’s fur.”

“So what was Sam doing?”

“She was mashed up against my legs as though I was her last and best hope of salvation.”

“And then?”

“Swiffer marched through the living room, out to the kitchen, and right up to Sam, who had hidden behind my legs and was busily trying to compact herself into the size of a teacup poodle.”