Must Love Dogs: New Leash on Life (24 page)

As soon as I said
alligator
, Carol clicked our car door locks.

"
Remember," I said, "the picture was all over the Internet—it looked like the alligator was standing straight up, trying to ring their doorbell?"

"
How the hell are we going to get past the security guard?" Michael said.

"
Whatever I say," Carol said, "just back me up."

We crept our way to the guardhouse. Carol rolled down her window.

"Welcome to Moon City," the guard said.

"
Hi there," Carol said. "We're here to rescue our father. He's getting older and he's not wrapped quite as tightly as he used to be. And well, we think he's being held against his will by one of your residents. And we'd just like a few moments to check in with him to make sure he's okay."

The guard yawned.
"Name, please?"

"
William. Well, actually, he prefers Billy. Billy Hurlihy."

The guard tilted his chin down and looked over his sunglasses at us.
"I mean the Moon City resident's name."

"
Oh, sorry. It's Sug . . . I mean, Bel—"

"
Belva Rae Garrity," I yelled from the backseat.

The guard shook his head.
"That Sugar Butt. At it again, is she?"

He pushed a button and the metal gate groaned open.

"Hurry," I yelled.

We took a right off Moon City Boulevard onto Moon City Lane, then a left onto Moon City Avenue and another left onto Moon City Trace. We passed a mammoth clubhouse, a dog park,
a tai chi class in progress under a pergola. Seniors—on foot, riding bikes, driving golf carts—waved to us as we passed. If your father had to be kidnapped, it wasn't a bad place to end up.

"
Right here," Michael said. "It's the next one on the left."

Carol pulled into the driveway of a house that looked pretty much like the other houses on the street. We flung our car doors open.

Michael made it to the door first and rang the doorbell. He banged on the door with his fist for backup.

"
Dad," Carol yelled as we jogged up the front steps to join Michael.

I put two fingers in my mouth and let out a shrill, ear-piercing
Hurlihy family whistle.

Chapter

Thirty-one

Sugar Butt was wearing orangey-pink lipstick and a canary yellow visor that was an almost exact match for her hair. I had a vague sense of a knee-length sleeveless nightgown and terrycloth scuffs completing her outfit, but I kept my eyes averted.

"
Where is he?" Carol shouted.

"
Come on in and take a load off," Sugar Butt said. "And shut the door behind you. It's hot enough to fry an egg on a bald head already."

"
Thanks, but we don't have time to take a load off," I said politely. My voice switched gears. "What have you done with our father?"

"Did I hear something about eggs?" our father said as he walked into the room. "I thought you were going to cook me pancakes, darlin'."

"
Are you okay, Dad?" we all said at once.

"
Peachy keen, kiddos, just peachy keen." He was wearing a bright yellow bathrobe that could only belong to Sugar Butt over his pajamas and carrying a cup of coffee.

We all kept talking at once.

Our father held up one hand. "Slow down now.  Where's the fire?"

"
Where's the fire?" I repeated. Carol checked her watch.

"
Dad," Michael said. "Grab your stuff. We're going to miss our flight."

Our father put his arm around Sugar Butt.
"Sorry, Mikey boy, but I'm staying right here. It's up to you to keep an eye on your sisters and make sure they get home safe and sound."

Being speechless was not something that happened often in the
Hurlihy family, but Carol and Michael and I just stood there with our mouths open.

Our dad stepped away from Sugar Butt and put his coffee cup down on a little table. He opened his arms wide.
"Come on now,  give your daddy a big hug. I'll give you all a ring on the ting-a-ling right after Sunday dinner. You can just throw my mail and the newspaper on the kitchen table until I figure out what kind of thingamajigger I need to fill out to get my bills forwarded."

"
You can't do this," I said.

My father ran a hand through his hair.
"Don't make this harder than it has to be, Sarry girl. I'm a grown man. Love might not come a knockin' for me again in this lifetime."

"
But you barely know her," I said. "You just met."

"
'When You Are Old' by William Butler Yeats," our father said. He pressed one hand over his heart and began to recite:

When you are old and grey and full of sleep

And nodding by the fire, take down this book

And slowly read, and dream of the soft look

Your eyes had once, of their shadows deep
;

How many loved your moments of glad grace—

"
Find his duffel bag," Carol cut in. "And his phone."

Michael took off down the hallway.
"Got 'em," he yelled from another room.

Sugar Butt took a step toward our father.
"Lord love a duck you're romantic, Billy Hurlihy. But the children are right. I'll be tore up to see you go but we've got too much horse sense not to give this some air to breathe. Now get your purdy little behind out of my robe and head on home."

My father cleared his throat and continued his Yeats recital:

And loved your beauty with love false or true,

But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,

And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

Sugar Butt leaned over and kissed him on the lips.
"That dog won't hunt anymore, honeybun—we're going to have to save the sweet talkin' for another time. Now go change your clothes and skedaddle."

He stopped one more time on the way out the door. He reached for Sugar Butt
's hand and brought it to his lips. "The pleasure was all mine, darlin'," he said.

Sugar Butt turned around and opened the door.
"Call me."

As we drove past, the guard gave us a thumbs-up. We took a left on 278 West, merged onto 95
South.

Beside me in the backseat, my father closed his eyes and fi
nished the poem softly:

And bending down beside the glowing bars,

Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled

And paced upon the mountains overhead

And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

"
Sorry we had to rain on your parade, Dad," I said.

He sighed.
"'Tis all for the best, Sarry girl, 'tis all for the best. I met a lovely filly on the wi fire this morning, and five will get you ten it wasn't going to fly so well with Sugar Butt."

Carol started to laugh first,
then I did, then Michael. Our father joined in. As soon as we'd start to wind down, one of us would get us going again.

"
Ohmigod," I said as I wiped a stream of tears from my cheeks. "I am in serious need of some caffeine. And a breakfast sandwich."

"
I don't think that's going to happen till we get to Charlotte," Carol said. "We're just barely going to make the flight."

"
It's a shame we had to leave before the pancakes," our Dad said. "Sugar Butt serves hers up with buttered honey syrup."

"
Knock it off, Dad," Michael said. "All this food talk is killing me."

"
She didn't happen to mention any casserole recipes, did she?" I asked.

"
I thought Sugar Butt said she lived in Savannah, Dad," Carol said.

Our Dad leaned forward in his seat.
"Her house got to be too much for her, so she downsized. Truth be told, I've dallied with a thought or two in that direction myself. There's a lot going on in those places for an old coot like me."

"You're not an old coot," Carol said. "You're an aging pain in the neck."

Our dad leaned back again.
"Sugar Butt said I was distinguished."

"
Better than extinguished, Dad," Michael said.

"Hmmm." Our father opened his eyes wide. "There's a wee chance I might have heard her wrong."

We laughed again,
then yawned, one after another after another. I fought to keep my eyes open as the straight shot of highway began to rock me to sleep. We crossed from South Carolina into Georgia.

In the front seat, Michael cleared his throat.
"Hey. Well. Thanks for coming with me and everything, you guys. I, um . . ."

I poked him in the back of the head.
"You love us meeces to pieces?"

"
Exactly," he said. "Thanks, Pixie."

"
You're welcome, Dixie," I said.

"
Okay, Mikey boy," Carol said. "It's payback time."

"
Already?" Michael groaned. "Jeez, can't it at least wait until I have my coffee? And after I send a couple of emails so my boss knows I'm working?"

"
Nope," Carol said. "Now. Call Christine and tell her it's all your fault we left her at home."

"
Seriously?" Michael said. "Why should I take the fall?"

None of us said anything.

"Fine." Michael grabbed his phone from the dashboard, scrolled through his contacts, pushed Call. "Hey, Chris. It's Michael. Listen. I had an emergency and Sarah was with me, and Carol just happened to call. Anyway, I wanted to call you but Dad told me not to wake you up. Savannah. And Hilton Head. I know, I know. Next time I'll call you first. Promise. Yeah, yeah. I know, I know. Really? Oh, good. Thanks. Okay, I appreciate that. I'll pick her up this afternoon."

He threw his phone back on the dashboard.
"Done. She's got Mother Teresa. Apparently Maeve tried to give her a haircut."

"
I don't want to hear about it," Carol said. "I'm still on vacation."

"
I told you not to wake Christine up?" our father said.

"
It was just a figure of speech, Dad," Michael said. "I meant it metaphorically."

I poked Michael in the back of the head again.

"Knock it off," he said.

I yawned.
"So, spill. How'd it go with Phoebe and the girls yesterday?"

Michael stretched both arms up over his head and echoed my yawn.
"It went okay. Miniature golf, a movie, the beach, the whole nine yards. Phoebe's plan was to have me drop her back at her parents' house and let me use the car, but the girls and I convinced her to go with us. She didn't exactly come out and say it, but I got the feeling staying with her family is starting to get on her nerves."

"
That's good," Carol said.

"
We'll see," Michael said. "Anyway, we're going to talk on the phone this week." He turned around in his seat to look at me. "Oh, and Annie and Lainie said to tell you they have a new verse for their butterfly song and they're up to ten thousand likes on their Facebook page."

"
Lovely," I said.

We got off the highway at Exit 104, followed the signs for the rental car returns, found our way to the return lot.

"Okay," Carol said as a guy finished checking our car in. "Grab your stuff and run."

The Savannah/Hilton Head International Airport was so small that we didn
't even come close to missing our flight.

"
The good new is," I said as Carol handed out boarding passes like cookies, "the trip home is always shorter."

"And Mumbles
Menino welcomes us to Boston once again," Michael said as we dragged our suitcases along the moving staircase.

"Somebody needs to get that guy some elocution lessons," Ca
rol said.

"His Honor the Mayor," our father said, "can speak any way he
chooses. It’s our civic duty to try to understand him." 

We took the elevator to our floor, found our cars.

"Well," I said. "It's been real. Hey, what day is it anyway?"

"
Friday," Carol said. "And yeah, we'll have to do it again soon."

"
Hasta la vista, kiddos," our father said. "Thanks for buying lunch, Mikey boy."

"
It was the least I could do," Michael said.

"
That's for shit sure," I said.

"
Language," our father said.

Carol and our dad piled into the Mini Cooper. Michael sent a
nother quick email from his work account while I got our stuff settled into the back of his 4Runner.

We circled around the maze of the garage until we accidentally discovered the exit, headed south and paid the toll at the Ted Wi
lliams Tunnel, found 93 South.

We rode quietly, lost in our separate thoughts.

"So," I said, as Michael stayed left at the Braintree split. "What do you want to do for dinner? We can pick up something on the way to my place and nuke it when we're ready."

"
I think Mother Teresa is on borrowed time at Christine's," he said. "I'd better head right over there and get her."

"
Okay. I'll run to Stop & Shop while you pick up Her Poochness."

There was a beat of silence.
"Thanks, but I think I'm just going to head home."

I felt oddly deserted and free all at the same time.
"Seriously?"

"
Yeah, I told Phoebe I was moving back in. You know, keep an eye on the house while she and the girls are gone. Maybe finish up some of the projects I was always meaning to get to."

"
Does that mean she might really try to keep the girls in Savannah?"

"
I don't think so, but who knows. We left it they'd all hang out in Savannah for as much of the summer as made sense, and I wouldn't bug her about it. And I'd take care of the house, and we'd kind of feel our way through this."