Say No More (34 page)

“Stay here, Halo,” Bernadette said. She let out a series of sneezes and blew her nose on a tissue. “I’m not leaving yet. Apparently it takes two hours to fill out release paperwork. I’m starting to think they’ve forgotten about me. That or they don’t want me to leave. Or maybe ...” — she clutched both hands over her heart — “Lise, oh my. You don’t think they found something else wrong with me, do you?”

“Relax, Bernadette. They’re short on staff today. They told me about it when I said I was here to pick you up.” Lise offered the juice to her. “But you didn’t answer my question. Why do you think Brad has a thing for me?”

“Hmm, on a first name basis already, are you?” She guzzled her drink, eyeing Lise with interest. “Maybe because he came by this morning and asked a few questions about you.”

“Like what?”

“Like if you were serious about staying around here.”

“And you said ...?”

“I told him he’d have to ask you.” Bernadette pushed herself up from her pillows and dangled her feet over the side of the bed. Pulling off her fuzzy socks, she gestured at a corner of the room. “Say, can you hand me my shoes there? I was going to stay comfy until they discharged me, but I’m about ready to just waltz right out of here. I can’t believe they made me stay all night for observation. Just a little ol’ bump on the noggin. A goose egg.” Her hand drifted to the gauze taped from the middle of her forehead to her temple. She winced as she grazed it.

“Concussions can be serious. They were only being cautious.” Lise showed her a pair of red suede mukluks with gray fur on the sides and little pink roses stitched over the toes. “Merle wasn’t sure which boots you meant when she packed them. Will these do?”

“Oh my. Those are slippers, not boots. And they clash with my outfit. But, I suppose if we slip out of here quietly, not too many people will notice.” She slid them on over swollen ankles. As Lise helped her down from the bed and she limped to the bathroom, I could see how badly her hip hurt her. Mine was feeling a little better every day, but I was sure it would slow me down over time, too.

Lise busied herself packing Bernadette’s things away in her overnight bag. The nurse finally came in, pushing a wheelchair.

“Hospital policy, I’m afraid,” the nurse said.

Wrapping her arms around me, Lise gently lowered me to the floor. “I’m sure she won’t mind.”

The nurse bent down, ran her hand over my spine. “Is this the dog?”

“It is.”

“She’s an angel. Lucky for you she was there when you needed her. She’s yours, I take it?”

The bathroom door popped open and the nurse stood up to help Bernadette to the wheelchair.

Bernadette ran her fingers over the chrome spokes as she settled in for the ride. “My, my, my. Sure would love to have one of these fancy chariots to wheel myself around in, maybe even a motorized one, but I don’t think it’d fit through the doors in my little cracker box house.” The nurse flipped the foot rests down for her, then spread a blanket across her lap. “Can you hoof it out of here, honey? Everyone’s been absolutely lovely, but I’m aching to get back to familiar surroundings.” Then aside to Lise, “Plus, the menu leaves a little to be desired. If you don’t mind me making a call, I’ll spring for a deluxe from Romeo’s Pizzeria.”

“Sounds great.” Lise snapped my leash on and gathered up the last of Bernadette’s things. “I’ll loan you my cell when we get to the car. I’m pretty sure Hunter has dialed that number half a dozen times since we rolled into town.”

We fell into step beside the nurse as she wheeled Bernadette down the corridor. Bernadette craned her neck to gaze into every doorway, waving and shouting to the other patients, “I’m going home. Get well! Come visit me at the library.” If she’d meant to slip out unnoticed, she was doing a poor job of it.

When we got to the outer lobby, Lise and I fetched the car. I took my place in the back seat, my nose prints generously displayed on the window behind the front passenger seat. Once Bernadette was in the car and the call made to the pizza place, Lise glanced at Bernadette several times before speaking.

“Thanks, for everything. For going to get Halo after the vet up north called you. For taking care of her. For calling me ... I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

“Sweetheart.” Bernadette laid a hand on her forearm. “There are some things in life you don’t keep score over. This is one of them. There’s plenty of folks, like me, who are nice just because, well, because we understand that everyone needs a little help now and then.”

Lise turned the key and pulled the shifter into ‘drive’. We rolled slowly through the parking lot, easing over each speed bump. “Yeah, um ... I’ve been thinking. Provided the paperwork all clears with the bank for the farm — and by the way, I still don’t think it’s enough — then I was —”

“It’s more than enough. I’ve already talked to my cousin Garrett’s son. He’s a contractor. He said there’d even be enough left over for a few computers and reading program software for the children with the money that’s been set aside for the library. They’re going to name the new wing ‘The Cecil Penewit Center’.” Turning her head aside, she pretended to look down the street as the car came to the parking lot exit.

“Good, I felt like I was taking advantage of the situation.”

Bernadette sniffed. I couldn’t tell whether it was her allergies or because she was getting emotional. “Well, you’re not. But what were you going to say?”

The turn signal clicked a dozen times before Lise pulled out into the nearly empty street. “I have enough extra money to add on to the house. I was thinking a couple of bigger bedrooms and an office, maybe. I start my job as head of the new physical therapy place downtown next week and what with my hours and all, it occurred to me that —”

“I don’t mean to rush you, but I’m not getting any younger.”

“I was wondering if you’d move in with us once the addition is complete? I know you have grandkids of your own, but I need someone to look after Hunter and Cammie until I can get off work every day.”

Slowly, Bernadette turned her head back. She looked very serious, maybe even a little sad. “My grandkids are all either grown or live far away.” Then, a smile spread across her face. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than watch your two young ones grow up.”

Lise breathed a sigh of relief. “Good, because I was afraid you’d say no. Life has been so crazy lately. I never know what’s going to happen next.”

“I felt like that when I was your age. And then I kind of figured that things usually turn out just like they’re supposed to. You gotta believe” — she turned her eyes heavenward — “that someone’s looking out for you. Takes a lot of weight off your shoulders.”

“Sure felt like that yesterday, didn’t it?”

“Mm-hmm, sure did. But yesterday, it was Halo looking out for us.”

“Cam was right about her. He said she was ‘the one’, that she was very special.”

“I’d say he knew what he was talking about then.”

Lise gazed at me in the rearview mirror. Her eyes crinkled. “You know, if she could talk, I’m sure she’d have a lot to tell us.”

You don’t know the half of it.

I
hadn’t seen Cam or Cecil’s ghosts for years now. I’d like to think they were still here, watching over us all, but that they’d just run out of important things to say. Things we needed to hear.

Lise still flipped through the old photo album on days when she was alone in the house, which wasn’t often, given how full the place was. She’d always pause on that picture of young Cam in his fancy cowboy hat, showing his prize steer, and say how much Hunter looked like him. Her wedding picture with Cam and another with the two of them and Hunter as a four-year old hung in the hallway at the very end, near the children’s rooms. There was also one of Brad and his first wife — she’d died of pneumonia a few years before he met Lise. When the addition was done and she was debating which pictures to put up, Brad had insisted she include some of Cam. He and Lise were engaged by then, but he told her it was important to remember the people we once loved. Not to lament that they were gone, but to carry forward with all the wonderful ways their love affected us.

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

Brad and Lise had their own child now. Emily was a precocious second-grader at Faderville Elementary. Like her big brother Hunter, she loved learning about animals. There was barely room on her bed for her to sleep, what with all the stuffed animals piled around her. How she emulated her big brother, followed him around during chores before he left for college. Every other day, she asked either Lise or Bernadette when he was coming home.

He was home now. Summer break. He spent most days riding around in a pickup truck with old Doc Samuels, doing farm calls, because he was going to be a veterinarian when he finished school, maybe even take over Doc Samuels’ practice someday.

Today, though, Hunter had taken off from work. He was lying on the kitchen floor, squeezing my paw lightly every time I winced. His touch helped. At least until the next knife of pain stabbed deep in my belly, twisting my insides, turning them inside out. Every time that happened, my vision went all blurry. Shapes blended, went dark. Sounds came to me muffled, as if I were listening underwater.

We’d just celebrated my fifteenth birthday a few days ago. They took my picture. Sang to me. Then Bernadette served me a plate of bacon bits and scrambled eggs. Swallowing was difficult. I gagged halfway through, unable to keep them down.

It had gotten harder and harder to hang on. Not so much like I was being pushed toward death, but more like I was being pulled toward some other place. A better place. Although I found it hard to believe there was anything better than the life I’d lived. That may seem an odd thing to say, considering all I’d been through. But it was Ned Hanson’s cruelty that made me appreciate Cecil’s kindness even more. And Tucker Kratz’s selfishness only served to highlight Bernadette’s caring nature and the love of Lise and her family.

If only Ned and Tucker understood how powerful love like that was ...

Hunter ran his hand down my foreleg. Spoke to me. The words sounded tinny, faraway. Something about sheep and playing ball, maybe.

He’d grown so tall, so strong. He was still quiet. Not in a shy way, but thoughtful, soft-spoken, contemplative. Animals were so easily calmed by his presence. He only had to glance at them, extend his hand and murmur a few words, and they were won over.

Lise still fretted about him, though. And for good reason. Twice since they’d come back to Faderville to live, he’d collapsed and been taken to the hospital. Last year, his heart had stopped completely. They revived him at the hospital and when he came home following his surgery, there was something different about him. Something very ... tranquil.

You’d think dying like that would have made him afraid that it would happen again, but if anything he seemed less so.

“I’ve seen it, Halo,” he had told me. “The Other Side.” His eyes lit up, as if he were dreaming of visiting a faraway galaxy. At the time, we were sitting alone together on a hill overlooking the small flock of sheep that Lise kept. He plucked a yellow-faced dandelion from beside him and twirled it between his thumb and forefinger. “Dad was there. Grandpa Ray, too.”

Lying back in the grass, he squinted into the sunlight. “They told me to go back.”

And that was all he ever said about it.

—o00o—

The family was gathered in Hunter’s bedroom, watching over me. I’d slept here ever since the new addition was completed, even when Hunter was away at school. In fact, I’d been allowed in any room I wanted to go in, but when it was time to go to sleep, I always chose this one. Because my place was beside Hunter. And when he wasn’t here, I was waiting for him.

Brad stood just outside the doorway, rubbing Lise’s shoulders. Cammie and Emily sat on the edge of the bed, holding each other tight, tears streaming down their cheeks. Tinker, no longer a kitten, was curled up in Emily’s lap, looking unconcerned and all-important, as cats always do.

Behind them, Bernadette gripped the handles of her walker. “Poor girl. She must be in so much pain. I can’t imagine ... Well, I can, in a way.”

“Honey.” Lise came to Hunter, knelt beside him. “The meds don’t seem to be working anymore. Do you want me to call Doc Samuels?”

For a while, he acted like he didn’t hear her. He just kept on stroking my paw, his eyes on my face. Finally, “I don’t think you need to.”

She glanced over her shoulder at Brad. He shook his head, then motioned her out of the room.

“Come on, girls.” Lise rose, held her arms out. “Let’s leave them alone.”

Bernadette hobbled out of the room behind them. Just as they got to the door, Cammie turned around and rushed back to me.

As she scooched down to kiss me, a single tear dripped onto my nose and slid down my muzzle. Her whispered breath tickled my whiskers. “Say ‘hi’ to my daddy when you see him. Tell him I love him, even though I never got to meet him.”

I will. Soon.

She disappeared as a thickening fog swirled around her.

My breathing grew fainter. The whiteness of the fog grew brighter. Like sunlight glinting off snow.

I could barely keep my eyes open. I saw Hunter’s arms reach out, curve around me. By the way the room moved around us, I knew he was lifting me up, even though I couldn’t feel it.

I couldn’t even feel the pain anymore.

But I felt the warmth flowing from his chest and arms through my body, like a tide washing over me, filling me.

The pictures in the hallway bounced past. The back door swung open. High, cottony clouds streaked across a glass-blue sky, dotted with a flock of grackles, their iridescent blues and greens flashing in the midday sun.

He laid me in the shade of a catalpa tree. From high up in the branches, I heard the faint chatter of squirrels. I had stopped stalking them years ago, although they had never stopped mocking me. I no longer cared. That was the glory of growing old. Small things that used to drive you crazy just didn’t matter anymore.

Only love mattered.