Finding Casey (9 page)

“What's that horrible smell?”

Juniper had to think a minute. “Oh, you know, just bully sticks. Guess what they're made of?”

“I have no idea, but it smells like vomit.”

She laughed. “A steer's penis.”

Topher cringed. “Can you throw them out the window or something?”

She laughed and took the slobbery bully sticks from them and opened the glove box. She put them back into the plastic bag she kept them in and removed a second baggie, filled with biscuit treats. She handed it to Topher.

Dodge was being awful, bumping Topher in the head with his nose, and Caddy had that crazy border collie stare in his eye as if he was deciding whether Topher was good where he was
or needed to be herded into the next county. Topher handed the bag back to her. “If these are cookies, you shouldn't make them again.”

She laughed. “They're not cookies, they're dog treats.”

“Why are you giving them to me?”

She handed it back to him. “If you want them to like you, it's better if you give them the treat,” she said.

“All right, but they had better not bite my hand and mess up my fingering. If I can't play, how can I be famous and buy you all the things you deserve?” He laughed, so Juniper did too.

Juniper watched him hold out a biscuit for Dodge, his fingers ready to let go the minute Dodge took it. For once Dodge behaved and took it as delicately as it was offered. “See?” she said. “Now he'll adore you.”

Topher held out a second biscuit for Caddy. Caddy just stared. “Come on,” he said, wiggling it, “do you want it or not?”

“Go on, Caddy,” Juniper urged him. “Topher's good people.”

The border collie moved forward, but just as he was about to take his treat, Topher pulled the biscuit away and laughed.

“What did you do that for?” Juniper said, taking the biscuit from him.

“Big, stupid dogs like the red one are okay,” he said. “But with smart ones, you have to let them know who's boss.”

“This dog saved my life,” Juniper said, giving Caddy the biscuit and rubbing his head, silently apologizing to her collie. “And there's nothing stupid about either one of them.” She stared at Topher, wondering how she'd missed this side of him in the last three months.

“Aw,” he said. “Come on, Junie. I was just kidding around.”

“It's mean to tease animals,” she said.

“Kiss me, and I promise to never do it again.”

“That kind of crap doesn't work on me,” she said, putting the key into the ignition.

Topher reached for the door handle as if he meant to leave.

“Topher?”

The silence made her stomach twist.

“Come on,” she said. “Talk to me.”

He looked back at her, his face sober and his blue eyes unreadable, maybe even angry. “Make up your mind. If you don't want me to stay, I can probably catch the shuttle going back if I hurry.”

And who'd pay for that? she wondered. “Of course I want you to stay!”

“You're not acting like it.”

She put a hand on his shoulder, then leaned in and kissed his neck. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“You have to understand, my dogs are really important to me. I want them to love you like I do. Can we start over?”

“Sure.” He turned to the dogs and gave each one a pat. “Sorry,” he said, and Dodge licked his hand.

“That's better,” Juniper said.

“I have to confess something,” Topher said, and Juniper's heart just about stopped. Other girls stayed at the dorm over the holiday weekend. Had he cheated on her? Did he want to break up?

“I'm listening.”

He sighed. “All right, then. Smart dogs make me nervous. That's the truth.”

“Oh, for crying out loud,” she said. “Caddy wouldn't hurt a flea. Give him time. You'll see how special he is. You'll love him as much as I do.”

He gave her a grin that made her bones melt. “We're good?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good. What time is dinner? I slept through breakfast. Late gig last night.”

“In a couple of hours. There are tons of things to snack on,” she said. “Where were you playing?”

“Church Street Café in Old Town. Speaking of which, I could use some coffee.” He brushed imaginary dog hair off his flannel shirt and touched her neck, his index finger coming to rest on the bluebird tattoo. “I just finished writing a song about this tattoo,” he said.

“Seriously?”

“Yep. Be extra nice to me and I'll play it for you.”

Her heart soared. “Oh, my gosh. I can't wait to hear it.”

Topher buckled his seat belt, tapped on her seat back, and said, “Home, James.”

Juniper laughed. That was more like the Topher she loved. She backed the car out of the parking space and checked her mirrors before joining the stream of traffic. Her eyes met Caddy's. My beautiful, brave boy, she thought. Imagine anyone not falling in love with you. He didn't really mean it, Caddy. He's just nervous about meeting Mom and Joe. Really, he's super nice once you get to know him. I promise.

Glory was just filling the micaceous pottery casserole dish with stuffing to place in the oven. It was a mélange of vegetables and nuts, no bread, a recipe Juniper asked for specifically. When she heard the knock at the door, she knew it had to be Halle, Bart, and her mom. Finally! The snow had her concerned, because Californians didn't know how to drive in it. She put the stuffing down and placed the lid on top. All the way to the front door
she felt herself waddle like an obese duck. There were two months to go. How could she get any bigger? She opened the door and there stood her mom, with her purple walker, and next to her Halle in the furry Tibetan lamb coat she'd bought especially for this trip. It was a soft ivory color, and perched on her recently colored hair—red—she wore a black beret. She had cinched the coat with a leopard print and rhinestone belt. Her face was thin and drawn, but she looked as if she'd stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine.

“Welcome! It's so good to see you,” Glory said, hurrying them indoors for a proper hug. “I'm sorry it's gotten so cold. How was the drive from the airport? I hope you didn't hit heavy snow. The weather forecast sure blew it on predicting this storm. Mom, you look wonderful.” She bent to kiss her and felt her mother's hand go to her belly.

“Never thought I'd see the day,” she said. “Bless your heart, you're as big as a barn.”

Glory laughed. “I know. I can't stop eating. Halle, should I get Joseph to help Bart bring the bags in from the car?”

Halle smiled. “Actually, at the last minute Bart had to travel to Italy. There was some snafu with one of their major vineyards, and only he could solve it.”

“In November? Why didn't you call me? Or go with him?”

“I figured he'd be too busy working, so I decided to come with Mom as planned. She didn't want to travel alone.” She shrugged out of her coat, brushed the snow off it, and handed it to Glory to hang in the closet. “I am in love with this coat,” she said.

Glory agreed. “It's stunning.”

“Don't worry, I brought some wine anyway, so you don't have to go shop at the last minute.”

“We always enjoy the wine Bart picks out, but we'll miss him,” Glory said. “I'm just so glad to see you. Can I get you two something hot to drink?”

“Decaf, but only if you have it already made,” her mother said, inching her walker across the flagstone floors toward the fireplace.

That's my mom, Glory thought. Her never-go-to-the-trouble way she had of asking for what she really needed. “Mom, sit in the wing chair. It's closest to the fire.”

“Oh, that fire feels nice,” Ave Smith said as she made her way to the chair. “Reminds me of your place in California.”

“One of Joseph's cousins did the tile.”

“The same one who did the kitchen?”

Glory laughed. “I don't know. He has so many cousins it's hard to keep them straight.”

“When you marry a man, you marry his entire family,” Ave said.

“Then I guess I'm lucky,” Glory said.

Halle looked away.

Glory gently guided her mom into the wingback chair. She watched how Ave pulled the walker close to her, as if she didn't want it out of her sight. From phone calls and e-mail she'd known that her mom's arthritis was worsening, and she'd heard about the walker, but seeing it in person drove her deterioration uncomfortably home. She was moon-faced from prednisone, and she wore braces on each arm that extended to her palms. Her knuckles were noticeably swollen, and that had to hurt. The purple walker reminded her of a ten-speed bicycle, with hand brakes and a basket to hold her purse. “That's a very snazzy piece of equipment,” Glory said.

Her mother smiled. “Just another perk of getting old.”

“Your house is adorable,” Halle said, walking around the living room, picking up things. She turned over a greyhound statue Joseph had found in a thrift shop and bought because it reminded him of Eddie. “Rosenthal,” Halle said. “Very nice, even with the chip.” She admired the flower arrangement on the dining table Glory had worked on for most of the day. “What kind of flowers are these?” she asked, pointing to the coin-sized yellow blooms.

“Button chrysanthemums,” Glory said. “And I put in some branches from the tree we replaced out front. I love autumn flowers. All the earth tones.”

Halle laughed. “Mums for the new mum!”

Glory smiled. “I never thought of it that way. Coffee for you, too?”

“No. After that drive I need something stronger.”

Glory pointed her toward the kitchen. “Joe's in charge of mixing drinks.”

“Good, because I need a triple shot of tequila.” Halle kissed Glory on the cheek and walked through the arched doorway.

Glory watched her go. “Mom, she's so thin. What's going on?”

Ave Smith shook her head. “I don't want to spoil the holiday, but your sister is headed for the rapids, Glory. She needs to take hormones and go to church.”

“Is Bart really in Italy?”

Ave pointed to the painting that hung over the fireplace. It was a wide blue daytime sky filled with the clouds that Santa Fe was famous for. Every day it brought sunshine into the house whether it was twenty degrees out or ninety. “Now isn't that lovely. Did one of Joseph's cousins paint it?”

“Yes, Aaron gave it to us as a housewarming present. Can you at least give me a hint of what's going on with Halle?”

Ave opened her mouth to speak, but just then Juniper and her boyfriend walked in the back door, and the dogs raced ahead into the room so they could give kisses to all the newcomers.

“Gran!” Juniper said, grinning. In her hand she held three purple balloons. “Look what we bought you. They're to tie on your walker so when you zoom through the crowd, everyone will see you coming. Gran, this is Topher.”

Glory's mother laughed. Everything Juniper did was hilarious or wonderful, but if it came from Glory and Halle, they were being immature or had forgotten their manners.

“Gopher?” Ave said. “What kind of parents saddle a handsome young man like you with a terrible name like that?”

“Topher,” he said, brushing his dark hair out of eyes that were so blue Glory thought he had to be wearing colored contact lenses. “It's short for Christopher, after my dad, and his dad, and the dad before that, ad infinitum. Lovely to meet you, Mrs. Smith. Happy Thanksgiving.” He took her hand gently in his and pressed.

“Oh my,” Ave said, looking at the boy while Juniper tied the balloons to her walker. “Be careful around this one, lovey. He's a snake charmer.”

Juniper looked as if that comment had launched her over the moon. She hugged her grandmother again. “It's so great to see you. How're your bridge tournaments going? Are you rolling in nickels?”

Ave laughed. “I tell you, lately I've been on a serious winning streak. Good news for you, come Christmastime. I'll buy you an extra pair of socks. Speaking of clothes, I trust you're both planning to change for dinner? Otherwise I might think you're still wearing your Halloween costumes. Bums from the Great Depression, am I right?”

“Of course, ma'am,” Topher said, patting the backpack he'd set on the floor. “I have my suit right in here.”

“In a backpack?” Ave said. “Well, it's going to need ironing. Glory, set up the ironing board right here in front of me. I'm useless in most ways, but I can still press a knife-edge crease.”

Everyone was seated at the dining table while Halle opened a bottle of sparkling wine. “Does anyone know what Dom Perignon said the first time he tasted champagne?” Halle asked as she expertly popped the cork without spilling a drop.

Topher leaned forward, holding out his glass. “He said, ‘Come quickly, I am tasting stars.' “

“How do you know that?” Halle asked. “Are you even twenty-one?”

“My parents,” he said. “All of us kids learned about wine as part of our upbringing. For example, champagne is made either by
méthode traditionelle
or
methode champenoise
. This one is the former.” Halle filled his glass and he took a sip. “Citrusy, the perfect choice for Thanksgiving. And yes, I'm twenty-two.”

“Juniper isn't,” Joseph said, placing turkey slices on each plate. “No bubbly for her.”

“Dad,” Juniper said, “it's Thanksgiving! I can have a sip. I wish Uncle Bart were here instead of working. I want to learn about wines, too.”

Glory was torn over who to watch: Halle, with her mouth set grimly, or Joseph, as the muscle in his jaw tensed. Glory lifted the bottle of Trader Joe's nonalcoholic sparkling cider. “You can have one glass,” Glory said, “but then switch to this. It's just as festive, and kind of our family tradition.”

Juniper frowned and Ave tapped her on the shoulder with
her salad fork. “That's more than I'd give to your mother when she was your age, and she was a married woman, so no pouting, young lady. Now try some of these yams. My favorite part of the holiday next to pies.”