Hope(less) (11 page)

Rachel seemed to understand and chatted as we went back into
the house to settle me in.

“You have a nice Grandpa,” she said sitting on my bed as I unpacked.

I agreed, trying to shake the unhappiness I felt.  Less than
five hours ago, I looked forward to making my own rules.  Here, in this house,
I had the freedom I’d wanted.  No more obligatory weekends in Canada.  No meeting
men I didn’t want to meet.  My internal pep talk began to work and I started to
unpack with more enthusiasm.

Rachel took a few of the wire hangers from the closet and helped
hang the t-shirts I’d crammed into a bag.  “Please tell me there is more in
these bags than t-shirts,” she said sitting on the bed again.  “I don’t mind
them, they’re comfy, but where’s the night out clothes?”

“Um, I really don’t own any.”  Watching her while I said it,
I didn’t miss the shocked expression that briefly flitted over her features.  I
looked over my small pile of clothes, most of it already on hangers thanks to
her help.  It lacked diversity.  I never noticed before.

She changed the subject.  “Got your bathing suit handy? 
With the backyard surrounded, the deck is perfect for working on a tan.”  Without
waiting for my answer, she popped up from the bed and said, “Join me when
you’re done,” as she left the room.

I finished unpacking and heard the back door a few minutes
later.  Bathing suit?  I didn’t even own one.

Tucking my suitcase under the bed, I put on the sheets from
Sam.  Instead of feeling sad, a new feeling bloomed.  Resolve.  I needed this…
living here with Rachel, someone my own age.  Well, close to it.  And female.  Normal
things like lying out in the sun had escaped me over the years.  She’d help me
catch up.  That she didn’t seem adversely affected by me gave me hope.  Granted,
she hadn’t yet faced rejection from a man because of me.  Maybe we could work
on becoming friends first.  Who knew, it could help prevent the ugly hostility
I’d grown accustomed too.  I liked the idea of having a real friend.  Sure, I
had Paul and Henry, but I wanted a friend of the same gender.

Unpacked and bed made, I changed into the shortest shorts I
owned and a strapless top that Barb had given me for my eighteenth birthday. 
I’d kept in touch with my foster parents because of their insistence that I
do.  Even though they had a beautiful little girl of their own, they still
thought of me, especially on my birthday.  Feeling light at heart, I headed out
to the deck.

Rachel turned her sunglassed-gaze my way when I closed the
screen door.  “Where’s your suit?” she asked curiously.

“I don’t own one,” I admitted, lying on my stomach on the
cartoon beach towel she’d laid out for me.  “Didn’t want to embarrass my grandpa. 
He’s a little old school.”  I just hadn’t wanted him to suggest I bring it with
to Canada.

“Really?  You don’t own one?”  She propped herself up on her
elbows and looked at me over her sunglasses, a wide smile on her lips.  “Wanna
go shopping?  I’ll use any excuse to go.”

I hesitated.  If I declined, we’d be starting out on a poor
note.  If I said yes, we’d most likely have an issue with guys somewhere along
the way.  But if I didn’t say yes, how could I hope to win her over as a
friend.  Any normal girl probably wouldn’t even stop to think about this.  I
really wanted to try for normal.  “Sure, let me go change,” I agreed.

“Yay!”  She jumped up, grabbing both towels and danced into
the house behind me.

Since she had the car, she drove us to the outlet mall
promising it was the best and cheapest place to shop.  Stunning in a tank top,
short shorts and cute little sandals with a heel, she outshined my drab worn
t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers.  Twisting my fingers in my lap, I tried to quell
my worry.

“While we’re here, we should look for some clubbing clothes
for you.”  She pulled into an open space, parking the car.  “And don’t be
afraid to tell me if I’m being too pushy.  I love shopping, but have too many
clothes already.  By shopping for someone else, I get my shopping fix without
adding to the mayhem in my closet.”

“No, you’re not being pushy.  I could use a swimsuit and a
few new tops.  But, I have to be honest.  I’m not really into the party scene. 
Guys act too weird around me and it makes me uncomfortable.”

“Weird how?” she asked as she reached for the door.

“Wait,” I said to stop her from leaving the car.  I’d rather
tell her where no one else would overhear.

She paused, turning to look at me.

I took a deep breath.  Normal.  I needed to sound normal. 
“Every friendship I’ve ever had was ruined by competition over a guy.  Only
problem was, I was never competing.  I wasn’t interested in the guy, my friend
was.  But the guy was interested in me.”

Behind her sunglasses, her eyes searched my face.  I
struggled not to squirm or look away.  Anxiety bloomed.  I should have kept my
mouth shut.

Her lips curved into an amused smile and she laughed. 
“You’re a serious one.  I can see that already.  Don’t worry Gabby.  If a guy
doesn’t trip over himself to get to me, I’m not interested.  I don’t want to
waste my time chasing what doesn’t want to be caught.”  She opened the door to
the sunbaked parking lot and I followed.

We’d just crossed the black expanse, stepping onto the
sidewalk in front of the outlets, when Rachel whispered to me, “Gabby, check
out this hottie.”

The man she spotted exited the same door we headed for.  As
I expected, he first looked at Rachel and then at me.  I looked down keeping my
eyes on the sidewalk as we strolled past him through the door.

Rachel obviously didn’t know about the ‘wait for the door to
close’ rule because she started laughing before I’d even made it over the
threshold.  “He kept his eyes on you the entire time,” she laughed.  “I can’t
wait to see what happens the first time we go out.”

I wanted to groan.

The clerk at the register looked over at us just then,
because of her laughter.  His double take at me caused her to start laughing
even harder.  I pulled her toward the back of the store before he could decide
he wanted to talk to us.

Her carefree attitude about it did bring a smile to my
face.  Maybe things would work out.

After helping me pick out a swimsuit, a rather daring bikini
that she insisted would not cause her the least bit of animosity no matter what
attention it brought me, she talked me into a few more stores.  In three hours,
I purchased two “clubbing” tops and a black mini skirt.  My careful spending slowed
the process down a bit, but she didn’t seem to mind.

Back at the house, the pleasantly warm breeze and inviting
deck beckoned us and we decided to catch the dying rays out on the deck before
calling it a night.  I just wanted to try on my bikini.

I shook my head at the sound of the back door opening and
closing five minutes after being home.  How she managed to change so fast amazed
me.

Putting my purchases away, I pulled the tags off the bikini. 
Pale from spending most of my summer working, Rachel had talked me into getting
a bright pink number with vibrant yellow straps.  Normally, I’d be reluctant to
wear anything that called attention to me, but Rachel had been adamant that
people our age didn’t wear one pieces with built in skirts, the style I’d
deemed safe.  The top with its strings and triangle coverage concerned me, but
I’d given in because of the boy-shorts style bottom.  When she’d held up a
different option with even less material, I’d quickly judged the pink and
yellow suit the safer option.

I twisted and turned in front of the mirror in my bedroom,
worrying.  The string top covered me decently.  The boy-shorts bottoms hugged
my backside.  A lot of skin reflected back at me.  I did like the suit, just
needed to get used to it.

Grabbing the sunglasses I’d bought, I left my room puzzling
over the sound of Rachel’s crooning voice.  Was someone here?  Did I want to go
out there in this?

I looked down at myself.  Better to find out now, at home,
if I could wear it in front of someone else than to go to a beach with it.  I
straightened my shoulders and walked out.

“Gabby!” Rachel squealed when I pushed open the screen door,
startling me.

On the deck, Rachel reclined on her side stretched out on a
beach towel.  Between her towel and the one she’d set out for me lay a monster
of a dog, relaxing in the sun.

“Look, a dog!” she cried excitedly.

At least seven feet from nose to tail, the dog’s shaggy
brown coat gave it a wild look.  Rachel didn’t seem to mind.  She continued to
pet its head affectionately.  What was that thing?  Although the size of a
mastiff, it looked nothing like one.  Hearing me, it turned its head, moving
out of Rachel’s reach.  Its soft brown eyes met mine.

Rachel shifted to a sitting position to reach its head again
and said, “It just walked up the porch steps and laid right down.  I nearly
peed myself.  Have you ever seen a dog this big before?  What kind do you think
it is?”  She continued to pet it lovingly.

I remained glued in place, my stomach sinking.  Any
lingering homesickness left from watching Sam drive away died as my suspicion
grew.  What are the odds that an extremely large random dog just appears at my
door scant hours after Sam dropped me off?  Improbable odds.  When I’d said I
would get a dog, I’d meant it as a joke.  I couldn’t afford a dog.

She continued speaking not caring that I hadn’t answered her
questions, “And you’re not going to believe what its tag says.”  She reached
around him digging in the thick shaggy fur around his neck until she found his
tags and turned the collar so she could read, “‘If found, please provide a good
home.’  Isn’t that funny?”  She let go of the tags and ruffled his neck fur
back into place.  The dog continued to watch me not paying attention to
Rachel’s ministrations.

“Yeah,” I mumbled still furiously thinking.  The size of the
dog would ensure men didn’t bother me.  But a dog half its size would do the
same.  Why get one so big?  Its size compared to Sam in his fur.  Did Sam think
some of his kind might bother me?  If so, I didn’t see how a plain old dog
would help.  Not a plain dog.  My eyes widened as my own idiocy dawned on me.

I needed to call Sam, find out what he’d been thinking, and
then give him an earful for sending someone to keep an eye on me.

About to turn and go back into the house, Rachel added, “His
tag also said his name is Clay.  What do you think?  Should we keep him?”

I turned to look at Rachel, eyes wide with shock.  “What?” I
croaked out, flicking a glance down at… him.  He continued to watch me, his eyes
not wavering from mine.  He’d left me alone the whole summer.  I’d thought he
truly let me go, despite Sam’s ominous warning, and forgotten about him.

“Aw,” Rachel pouted, “You aren’t allergic are you?  The
lease says a single pet is allowed as long as it’s licensed.”

I doubted the lease had taken in consideration that Rachel
would fall in love with a freakishly large monster baring similarities to a
dog.

“No, I’m not allergic,” I distractedly clarified.  He had
all summer to make his move.  Why now?  And why when I wore a bikini for the
first time ever?  Briefly, I considered grabbing the towel and wrapping myself
in it, but disregarded the idea thinking how it would look to Rachel.  Instead,
I continued to stare at the frustrating dog until he huffed out a breath
turning away from me to lay his head on his paws.  Clay had finally shown up and,
apparently, he still didn’t want to talk.

“He’s so cute!”  Rachel reached over to scratch his ears and
he closed his eyes.

“I’m going back in,” I said over my shoulder as I turned
toward the door.  Clay sprang to his feet before I reached it, swiftly crowding
behind me.

I looked down at him and then back at Rachel, who watched us
with an enormous grin.  “Looks like another guy who can’t take his eyes off
you.  Living with you is going to be a riot.”  She laughed and picked up the
towels.  “Let’s all go in.  The neighbor’s tree is going to shade the deck soon
anyway.”

Having little choice, I opened the door for Clay.  His fur brushed
my bare thighs as he moved past me into the house.  His head came to about my
sternum.  He really was huge.  A huge problem!

Sam had warned me that Clay had taken my speech as an
invitation to live together.  At least, he showed up in his fur rather than the
flesh.  Any relief I might have felt went unnoticed as I contemplated how he’d
found me in a completely different state.  If Sam told him, I’d have to kill Sam.
 Since I didn’t have the stomach for outright murder, I’d break his coffee
maker.

I took a deep breath to clear my hectic thoughts and
followed Clay and Rachel inside.  If he’d come all this way, I knew I wouldn’t be
able to tell him to go.  I watched Rachel pat him again.  Especially with
Rachel around as a witness.  It’d make me look like a complete physico if I
started talking to the dog, not only as if I knew him, but also as if I gave a
breakup speech to a human.  I didn’t really have much of a choice… for now.

“We can keep him,” I said quietly, “But he’s going to shed
everywhere,” I predicted on my way to my room.

Wisely, Clay stayed in the kitchen with Rachel.  She continued
talking to him, telling him how cute he was and asking him if he wanted
anything to drink.  I heard dishes clanking as I closed my door to change.

Even knowing he could probably hear me, I grabbed my cell
phone and called Sam.  “Gabby, what’s wrong?” he answered before it rang on my
end.  Sam knew I wouldn’t be calling so soon for just any reason.

“Clay is here.  In fur,” I said as quietly as possible.

After a brief pause, Sam chuckled.  “What did you expect,
hun?  He’s scented you.  He’s probably been following you since then.  The only
difference is, when you were with me, he trusted me to protect you.  Moving
away, well, you might have forced his hand a bit.  Then again, I think he
planned on joining you from the start.”