Family Matters (3 page)

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Authors: Laurinda Wallace

BOOK: Family Matters
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“He’s a handful,” said Chris as she unclipped Barney’s collar, and Beth quickly slipped the thicker leash over his broad, fawn-colored head. Barney gave Beth’s hand a slobbery lick.

“I’ve got him, run 22,
right?” Beth said as Barney pulled her through the doorway.

“That’s right. Thanks, Beth.”

“New girl?”

“Yeah.
That’s Beth Simmons, Frank and Evie’s daughter.”

“Wow, she’s all grown up now.
Hard to believe. Well, I’ve gotta run. We’ll pick up Barney on Tuesday.”

“See you then. Have a good trip.”

“Thanks.” Chris waved as she closed the door and walked toward her shiny red Mustang convertible. Gracie remembered Chris saying that it was her mid-life crisis car, and she was enjoying every minute in it. She was surprised that Barney was an approved passenger. Maybe the thrill was past, as was her own enthusiasm about Alison. Now that the customer traffic had slowed down, she needed to find the girl. Gracie strode down the hallway on the office side of the kennel. She paged her again on the walkie-talkie.

“Alison, my office right now.”

Static crackled in reply. Gracie peered through the wooden blinds on her office window to check the back parking lot. No car. Great, she thought. Where had she gone? 

Jim was now standing in her doorway.

“Looking for this?” He held up a walkie-talkie by the antenna.

“Is that Alison’s?”

“Sure is. She handed this to me about five minutes ago and said she couldn’t work in such an awful place. I wished her good luck in life.” His grin was infectious, and Gracie had to smile.

“Well, this isn’t the place for her then. We’re pretty mean, but we’ve had all our shots. Her leaving saves me from having to fire her.”

“She’s got a lot to learn about the real world.”

“Don’t we all. I guess we had our moments.” Gracie’s dark brown eyes flashed with humor. “Especially in high school. What were we thinking?”

“We were lucky we didn’t get thrown out of school. I still have a few deep dark secrets about pranks though.”

“Whaddaya mean?  I thought I was in on all those.”

“Not the Limburger in the typewriter in Jarvis’ class. No one ever found out it was Michael and me. We were pretty lucky on that one.”

“You’re kidding. Michael never said a word. That room reeked for a week. The janitor couldn’t even get the smell out with that awful disinfectant he used in the bathrooms. I think they ended up throwing out the typewriter.”

“Yeah, we didn’t think they’d have to do that. Mr. Jarvis tried to scoop it out with his hands and ended up trashing his suit. It was great.” Jim’s eyes twinkled with fond remembrance.

“Mr. Jarvis was a strange man. I think he developed a tic while I was in his class.” She smiled, momentarily lost in a high school daydream. “I guess we’ll be looking for another kennel helper. Any ideas?”

“Nope.
Well, wait a minute. What about your cousin’s son, Greg?  Is he working this summer?”

“I don’t know. He’s a pretty good kid. I’m not sure I want family around though. Isabelle will be pumping him for information every day. I don’t need that right now. I’ll ask Beth and see if she knows anyone. I’d better get back up front.” She sighed and shoved her hands into the tight pockets of her jeans. “We’ll talk about this after we close, OK?”

He nodded and said, “Sure thing. We’ll get it figured out. I’m off to feed the inmates,” he teased.

Gracie walked quickly to the reception area, where Beth was waiting for her.

“I got the big dog in OK. He’s really strong.”

“I knew you could. Just be confident. You’re the one with the leash. Let them know you’re in charge.”

“Right. I think I’m getting the hang of it.” Her cheeks were flushed with exertion, but her eyes shone with new confidence. “Did you find Alison?”

“Alison decided she wasn’t cut out to work here after all, so I guess it’s just us to finish up today. Do you have any friends looking for work?”

“Gosh, I think everybody’s working now. Hmm, maybe Casey needs a job. She adjusted the limp ponytail still damp from the bathing adventure with Angus. She attempted to brush the dog hair stuck to her jeans and white T-shirt. “Let me check, I might know somebody.”              

“Have them call me or stop in. I’ll interview them right away. Same pay as you’re getting and every other Saturday.”

“OK. I’ll ask around.”

“Thanks.”

Gracie looked up to see Bill Stephens pulling in with his two Cocker Spaniels. He was true to his word. Two other customers followed right behind him to pick up their canine children.

“Get ready for some more transporting here. We’ve got a bunch at once. Let’s get the Cockers settled and then get the dogs from runs 1 and 6.”

“Sure. Are they big dogs?”

“Nope.
These are all small guys.”

The rest of the afternoon went without incident. It seemed that Beth was probably going to work out, maybe. Gracie locked the front door at exactly 5:30 and pulled the cash drawer out from the desk.
She methodically rubber-banded credit card receipts, checks, and bills separately to count in her office. Jim came in the backdoor, whistling some unknown tune in a minor key.

“Hey, Jim, I’m closing up here. Let’s talk, if you’ve got time.”

“OK, I’ll meet you in the office.”

Gracie put the cash drawer back in the desk and took the day’s receipts. Jim had put the coffeemaker on, and the aroma of her favorite coffee filled the small space. Haley opened one eye from her bed in the corner, scratched half-heartedly, and stood. She shook, jangling tags. Jim gave her a scratch under the chin.

“You read my mind. I need some serious caffeine.” Gracie gratefully sank down into her high back swivel chair and threw the bank bag in the half-opened bottom drawer.

“So do
I. It’s been an interesting day.”

“No kidding.
First the family funeral and that stress, and then the Alison incident.”

Jim poured two mugs of coffee, handed one to her, and sank down on the recliner and pulled the lever. Gracie noticed the weariness in Jim’s handsome, chiseled face as he closed his eyes and let out a sigh. She took a sip of the strong coffee, leaned back in her chair, and put her legs up on the desk. Haley found a rawhide chip from a basket and settled next to the desk, chewing intently.

“Was the funeral that bad?”

“No. Not really. Nice service and everything, but Isabelle and I got into it, as usual, at the dinner. She’s pretty mad at my parents for going on that cruise.” Gracie massaged her forehead, trying to still the dull ache that threatened to become a full-blown migraine. She rummaged in the top desk drawer for some ibuprofen. “Mom and Dad knew there was a good chance Aunt Shirley wouldn’t be around when they got back. They had said their good-byes. Aunt Shirley had even told them to keep their plans, which was surprising too.” She washed three pills down with a swig of coffee.

“So, what’s Izzy’s problem?” Jim’s strong fingers tapped the white ceramic mug.

“You know how Isabelle thinks. The world revolves around her, and we’re all supposed to toe the line when it comes to family obligations.”

“Well, let your mother take it up with her when she gets home. You shouldn’t have to defend your parents; they can talk to Izzy.” Jim finished his coffee and brought the recliner upright. “Are you OK? You know, dealing with the funeral and all?”

“I think so, but it was harder than I thought. I miss Michael so much, Jim.” Her voice caught, and tears began to slide down her cheeks. She quickly grabbed a Kleenex and blew her nose. “Sorry. I guess…”

Before she could finish, Jim had jumped from the recliner and pulled her from her chair. His arms were wrapped around her, crushing her with one of his famous bear hugs.

“Hey, Chief, we all do, but you’re
gonna be fine. You
are
fine.”

When he released her, Gracie took a deep gulping breath. No matter how busy she kept herself or how hard she tried to forget, the tears still came.

“Maybe. Thanks for putting up with me.”

“No problem. But we need more responsible help in here.
Any ideas?” Jim was all business again and settled himself back in his painfully ugly plaid-upholstered recliner.

“Beth’s going to ask around to see if any of her friends need a job. I should have anticipated summer vacations and
that we’d need extra kennel helpers.”

“I guess your research was on the money, literally, with this business. I’ll check at the restaurant in the morning when I’m having breakfast. The kids working there usually know
who’s looking. Midge’ll know for sure. She knows all.”

Gracie rose from her chair and refilled her mug. “Great. Well, I’m beat. Are you going to check on everybody and set the alarm?”

“Sure thing, Chief. I’m beat too.” Jim set his mug by the coffeemaker, and headed down the long kennel corridor. The yips and barks of greeting were constant as he made sure everyone was settled for the night.

Gracie turned off the light, shut the office door, and headed for the house. She passed the RAV4 and suddenly remembered the bag of books. The book
s wouldn’t unload themselves. She might as well do it now. With shopping tomorrow, she needed the back seat space anyway. Grabbing the tattered brown paper bag, she carefully balanced it in her arms without spilling the coffee. She made it up the steps to the kitchen and into the house. She set her mug on the counter and the bag onto the floor.

Haley, in her usual exuberant manner, bounded in ahead, already at the French doors.

“Hey, girl, ready to take a run?”

As she opened the doors, she saw Jim’s Explorer pull out of the rear parking lot and head down the road toward Route 39. The sun was just beginning to lower in the sky. The long summer days were welcome after the endless darkness of the Western New York winters. Gracie sucked in a deep breath of early evening air filled with the heavy smell of corn tassels in the distance. Sweet corn would be ready soon. That meant the church’s annual chicken barbecue and corn roast were just around the corner. Summer was a wonderful time of year in the Genesee Valley. The third cutting of alfalfa was underway, the corn was high, tomatoes were beginning to ripen, and the rolling hills were lush with green. The brown heads of several does popped up from the tall grass in the field beyond her lawn. Crickets were warming up to chirp their evening song, and Gracie took another deep breath of the cooling night air. Thankfully, the headache was beginning to relent.

Grabbing Haley’s mostly shredded squeaky toy, she threw it to the back of the large fenced backyard. Haley joyfully charged after the beloved toy and brought it back in seconds, her thick tail waving wildly. After a few more minutes of retrieving, Gracie called it quits. The dog went directly to the water bowl in the kitchen and slurped down most of it. She lay panting on the cool tile floor, water dripping off her shiny black jowls.

“I’m going to get the mail. I’ll be right back.” Haley looked up with sad eyes as Gracie made a quick exit out the kitchen door to the mailbox. When she returned with the armful of mail, the trail of brown paper bag pieces went all the way through the kitchen to the living room. Books were scattered in another trail leading to the patio doors. Haley was nowhere to be seen.

“Haley,” Gracie growled with hands on her hips.

Haley innocently appeared from the bedroom with her pathetic sock monkey squeaky toy, looking with mild interest at the path of destruction.

“When are you ever going to grow up?”

Haley merely wagged her tail and lowered herself into the plush dog bed in front of the fireplace. Gracie bent over, picking up the trail of dog books and romance novels, and spotted it. It was one of those diaries you poured your heart out into while you endured high school. It had a worthless clasp that supposedly locked. The cover was pink striped. The clasp wasn’t locked; it was broken. She opened it quickly, burning with curiosity. Maybe it was Aunt Shirley’s or Isabelle’s diary. It was not. It was Charlotte’s. Gracie felt her heart jump and sink all at once. Uncle Stan had given her Charlotte’s diary.

Chapter
3

 

 

C
harlotte. The cousin, who had been like a sister. The beautiful, sweet, but rebellious cousin, who was the exact opposite of her sister Isabelle. Her life was cut short on a rainy October night. Run down by an unknown and supposedly drunk driver. Gracie’s stomach churned in the remembering. She had answered the phone in her dorm room at SUNY Geneseo and listened in disbelief as her father told her that her cousin was gone. Gracie had driven home that night without remembering how she got to Deer Creek.

She turned back the cover again and looked at the neat feminine script that read: “Charlotte Browne, Private.” The first date in the diary was three months before her death. Charlotte had been just 18, two years younger than Gracie. Could it be more than 20 years ago? The freshness of the pain stung and surprised her. Too many memories had come back today. She couldn’t look at the diary tonight. She slammed the cover shut. An unwelcome emptiness and sadness crept over her. Haley’s wet nose on her hand snapped her back to the present.

“OK, Haley, I know it’s supper time.” She laid the small book on the coffee table and went to the kitchen to scoop out Haley’s kibble.

Gracie shoved a plate of leftover casserole in the microwave, hoping that it was less than a week old. She picked at the chicken and pasta, while Haley happily crunched. She turned on the floor fan to move the humid air in the living room. Haley strolled over and flopped in
front of it, panting and looking expectantly at her mistress. Gracie bent over the oak coffee table and fingered the striped cover once again. Tears began rolling down her face.

“Why do the ones you love the most get taken? Why doesn’t the hurt go away?  Why am I the one who has to keep going?”

Her heart was pounding, and the tightness in her chest took her breath away. Gracie took slow, deep breaths, attempting to slow her racing heart. Haley got up, whined, and circled her solicitously. The medicine cabinet was not far away. The prescription bottles stood in a neat row. The pills slid down easily with the glass of water. It had been a horrible day, and she wanted to find the painlessness and nothingness of sleep. Gracie waited for the familiar warmth of the pills to relax her. Collapsing on the bed with two pillows propping her head, she could only hope the pills would work long enough for her to get a few hours of sleep. Haley jumped up next to her and stretched out comfortably.

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