Stray (20 page)

I stared at Jon, unable to read whether he realized what he was saying about his mother. This, this was something I could sympathize with. His mother gone, no way to understand why three different men might have been his dad, or whether his dad had discovered it and that’s why she’d left. If I’d had that kind of mystery in my life, it would have crushed me. Once again I was filled with mixed feelings about the complicated and beautiful man now sitting cross-legged in the floor of my clinic.

“Will you let me know, when you find out, I mean?” I said. I didn’t know why it would be any of my business, but since he’d told me, I couldn’t bear not knowing the rest of the story.

“Yeah. I think Doc wants to go public if it’s him. I don’t know why, but if that’s the way it goes down, I’m okay with it. No one left to be upset about it.”

“What about your mother?”

“We don’t know where she is.”

“Jon, think about trying to find her again before you do anything rash, and ask Doc to hold off, too. I can’t imagine how I’d feel if I saw a story like that in the paper or on the internet about myself. Not my business, I know, but think about it.”

“Well, I’ve already talked to Doc about trying to find her. Maybe you’re right.”

It was very late by then, and the temperature had dropped into the high teens. My walk home wasn’t long, but it would be very cold. When Jon offered to drop me off, I felt justified in accepting. He’d given me a lot to think about that night. How could someone who was unfailingly kind and thoughtful toward me and toward an injured dog be so cruel to an innocent woman? It boggled my mind. So did the thought of a loving mom simply walking away from her son. I didn’t know how Jon had endured almost two-thirds of his life asking that same question over and over again and never getting an answer.

Two days before Christmas, and I
’d had a call from Doc that I couldn’t take. I called back the first chance I got, mid-afternoon.

“Hey, Doc, what’s up?” I said.

“I think you’ve got that quote wrong. It’s ‘what’s up, Doc’” he deadpanned. I didn’t get it for a second, and then had to laugh. No, I wasn’t trying to quote Bugs Bunny. God, it had been decades since I’d seen the cartoon. Doc had gone on without me, so I listened more closely to avoid having him repeat himself.

“…it’s either Jamie or me,” he was saying. “They don’t know which yet, but you’re either my son or my nephew. How do you feel?”

“I don’t know yet, Doc. I still haven’t processed it, there’s been too much going on. I never much liked your brother, you know.”

“That makes two of us. Say, what are you doing for Christmas?”

“Nothing. Skiing maybe, I don’t know. Why?”

“Why don’t you come over? Neither of us has anyone to spend it with, why not spend it together? Now that you’re family, and all.”

“Sounds good, Doc. Hey, you know who else doesn’t have anyone? Erin Timms. She told me she’s not going home for it because it’s in the middle of the week. Why don’t you invite her, too?”

“Do I hear an ulterior motive?”

“No, I think I’ve screwed the pooch on that score. We’re just friends.”

“Okay, I’ll invite her when she comes for her allergy shot.”

“Is that why she’s seeing you?”

“Yeah, she’s allergic to cats. Go figure.”

Doc’s dry delivery of that oddity cracked me up. A veterinarian that was allergic to cats, and who lived in the garage apartment at a cattery. Too funny for words. I’d have to tease her about that.

“Okay, I’ll see you on Wednesday then. Make it about two p.m., we’ll have a Christmas feast,” he said. Idly, I wondered who was going to cook this alleged Christmas feast. I knew nothing about Doc, of course, other than that he was the only doctor in town and everyone loved him. Could he be a gourmet cook, too? I’d find out soon.

Looking at what was left on my desk, I decided that I could spare the rest of the afternoon, and called my assistant to tell him I’d pick Max up for his therapy appointment. Maybe I could do a little Christmas shopping, too, while I was in Boulder.

Erin was pacing by the time I got to the clinic, almost fifteen minutes late. She was surprised to see me, I could tell. Was she glad, too? That I couldn’t tell, and I should probably stop hoping. She’d made it perfectly clear that there couldn’t be anything between us. The trouble was, every time I’d been told I couldn’t have something, for my entire life, I’d made it my goal to get it anyway. It was going to be hard to honor her boundaries.

“Hey, Erin. Thought I’d take him myself today. I have a couple of errands in Boulder, too. Would it be too inconvenient if I didn’t get him back until seven or eight?”

“No, that would be okay. But which? How will I know when to meet you?”

“Time to give me your cell number, I guess,” I said, passing it off as just a casual convenience.

“Oh, of course.” She recited it while I punched it into my phone, then I had to get going. I was already going to have to speed a little on my way down the mountain to make it on time for Max’s appointment. I realized as I went out the front door that the emergency number posted on it was the same number she’d just given me. Why hadn’t I noticed that before? It would have saved me some trouble now and then. I wondered if it were her personal cell number, or if she’d concealed that by giving me the clinic’s emergency cell. No way to tell at the moment, though, and at least I could assume she always carried the latter.

Instead of waiting with Max during his physical therapy, I took the opportunity to slip out to the nearest liquor store and see if my brand of Scotch was available. I wanted to buy a bottle for Doc, as my Christmas gift to him. After I picked up Max again, I went to the mall to see if I could find something soft and warm for Erin. I was thinking a cashmere shawl, something she could cozy up in to read or watch TV. I wanted heather green to match her eyes.

Max was patient, waiting in the car, while I went through the mall and then to a boutique knit shop that someone referred me to. There I found the perfect shawl, knit in a soft cashmere yarn, with tiny stitches that left no gaps through which a breeze could chill Erin. I pictured her wrapped in it, reading a book. Then, despite myself, I pictured her wrapped in it and nothing else, her smoldering eyes matching it precisely and inviting me to unwrap it. I shook my head to clear the mental picture and had the clerk gift-wrap it in silver with emerald green ribbons. I had no idea how Erin would feel about receiving it, but it was important for me to give it. It was as much a peace offering as a Christmas gift.

I was delighted and grateful when Doc invited me to his home for Christmas dinner. So much better a plan than my marathon movie day, I thought, until he mentioned that Jon would be there, too. Of course he would.

I didn
’t say anything to Doc about Jon’s revelation, in case Jon hadn’t told him I knew. If he had, Doc would surely have mentioned it, too. But, I’d already accepted, and backing out would be really rude and would reveal that there was a reason I didn’t want to see Jon. Besides, I had to get over that. He was a big part of this community, now, and I couldn’t avoid him forever. Not even for a day or two, I reflected, as I remembered I needed to meet him when he returned Max to the clinic tonight.

So I smiled and told Doc that I’d love to join him and Jon for dinner, and asked what I could bring.

“I don’t suppose you know how to make pumpkin pie,” Doc said, a hopeful look on his face belying the statement.

“Not really, but there’s a recipe on the can of pumpkin, I think. Tell you what I do know how to make—pecan pie. No Texan woman would ever live down not knowing how to make that.”

“Wow, even better!” Doc exclaimed, his brown eyes twinkling. Funny, I’d never noticed his eyes before. They reminded me of something. Brown with flecks of amber. Suddenly, I knew. They were the same as Jon’s. No need for a paternity test, unless the brother had the same eyes. I was looking into Doc’s and seeing Jon’s.

“Shall I bring both?” I asked, brushing away my speculation. I didn’t want Doc to see it, and I knew he was very perceptive. Fortunately, he was distracted with the dinner planning.

“If you want. Or either. There’ll just be the three of us, so two pies might be a bit much.”

“I’ll surprise you, then,” I teased. He patted me on the shoulder as I left.

“See you Wednesday. Two p.m. or so,” he reminded me.

I still had at least an hour and a half to kill before meeting Jon at the clinic, maybe more. If I was quick about it, I might catch some of the boutiques open to pick up a small token gift for Doc.
Should I get one for Jon?
I asked myself. Deciding I should, just so it wouldn’t be obvious that I’d brought a gift for Doc and not for Jon, I wracked my brain for something that would be gracious but wouldn’t mean anything. A tie maybe? But, Jon had impeccable taste, and it wasn’t like there was a Saks or a Dillards here where I could get a really nice one, even if I could have afforded it. Maybe looking through the shelves locally would inspire me, and if not, I’d close the clinic at noon tomorrow and run down to Boulder for an idea.

Some of the shops were already closed, others would be closing at six. I didn’t have much time. In one, I found a number of Colorado-grown food products, like jars of honey and jam, or snacks. The proprietor suggested a basket with several selections when I couldn’t make up my mind. It sounded right for Doc, so I had them make up a basket while I waited. I picked a local honey infused with loganberry syrup, which sounded absolutely delicious to me. Also, some humorous selections, like ‘moose droppings’, a chocolate-coated candy. By the time I’d added a mug that said ‘Colorado Native’ and some hot chocolate to the mix, I was satisfied that Doc would love it, especially if I could slip a small bottle of Kahlua into it before I gave it to him. Maybe I was projecting my own taste onto Doc, but I did think he’d appreciate the thought.

Jon was a different story. By waiting for the basket, I’d used the rest of the time that anything would be open in Sunshine. I’d definitely have to go to Boulder the next day, but maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. I could get a manicure while I was there, since my hands were always such a mess. I was beginning to feel a little Christmas spirit, and that was a good thing.

Jon called me from the road that he’d be back with Max at around seven-thirty, so I didn’t bother trying to get dinner beforehand. Afterward would be plenty of time for me to heat up one of my frozen dinners. Instead, I drove up and down the main street, to make sure I’d left no stone unturned, and then out to the resort for a quick recon of the gift shops there. By the time I had exhausted all avenues, it was time to meet Jon.

I got to the clinic just in time to see Max leap from the back seat of Jon’s car. He was really doing very well. It would soon be time to look for a home for him. I hated to see him go, was completely attached to him by that time. But a life in a cage, even a large one with open wire grid, was no life for a big dog like Max. No life for any dog, for that matter. I’d have to let him go, for his own good, even if it broke my heart.

Jon followed me into the clinic, telling me about the recommendation the therapist had made for Max to get some good outdoor exercise now. Once I’d put Max into the kennel, I turned to find Jon too close to me.

“Oh!” I said, involuntarily.

“Sorry,” Jon returned, backing up. I looked up into those brown eyes, verifying that they were identical to Doc’s, but didn’t say anything. It was up to Doc to tell him, or him to tell Doc. I wasn’t sure who was getting the results of the paternity tests. In any case, I didn’t belong in the middle. But, I couldn’t help being glad for both of them.

Both were alone in the world, and now they’d have each other. It made me miss my mom and sister. When I got home, I called both of them and the three of us enjoyed a long chat until it got late in Texas, an hour ahead of Colorado time.

~*~

For some reason, I
’d always thought of Colorado as stormy, with lots of snow in the winter. In fact, Sunshine did get a lot of snow, but almost every day had at least a few minutes of brilliant sunshine, too. Christmas Day was no different.

I woke up to snow that made everything white and sparkling, a classic white Christmas. By mid-morning, though, the clouds had cleared and the sun came out to light the frozen crystals in gold and every color of the rainbow. It was magical, and it put me in the best mood I’d been in since…wow, since I could remember.

I’d baked the pecan pie after getting home from Boulder yesterday, and the pumpkin one was in the oven. Even if there were only three of us, at least two of us could enjoy the leftovers for a day or two. I hoped that my pie crust would turn out light and flaky as always, not finding an adjustment for altitude online. Deciding philosophically that it couldn’t possibly be any worse than a pre-made frozen crust, I was confident that we’d enjoy the pies.

With everything in readiness, I still had a couple of hours to kill before leaving for Doc’s, so I chose A Christmas Story as my favorite Christmas movie and sat down to watch it with a cup of hot chocolate in my hand. Not being involved in the frantic production of a big Christmas dinner was strange, since this was the first time I’d ever missed being at home for it. I could have been sad about that, or nostalgic, but talking to Mom and Sis on Monday had left me feeling okay about it. Not joyful, exactly, but okay. Enough that my good mood over the beautiful weather wasn’t spoiled, anyway.

At ten ‘til two, I backed out of my driveway and headed for Doc’s house. I would probably arrive precisely on time or even a minute or two early, but it wasn’t as if it were a fancy-dress cocktail party where being fashionably late was
de rigueur
.

I had dressed casually, but in nice clothes, a pair of rayon-wool blend tailored slacks in black, with a soft, creamy-white cowl-necked sweater. Boots, of course, for the snow, but I was carrying a pair of wooly socks in my purse that I’d substitute for the boots if it seemed appropriate. My hair was down for a change, floating around my shoulders but held back by a red velvet headband, my only nod to the Christmas season. Red wasn’t really my color, but it would do as an accessory to relieve the stark color scheme.

I seldom wore makeup. It wasn’t practical in my profession, and I resented the fact that men could be beautiful without it, while women seemed to think it was an absolute necessity. I’d put on a moisturizing lotion, dusted my cheekbones with a pink-gold blusher and applied mascara, but that was about it. I only put on the blusher to keep my face from disappearing between my ash-blonde hair and white sweater. I didn’t dare admit to myself that I wanted to look my best because Jon would be there, so I didn’t.

I left the pecan pie on the front seat where it had ridden to Doc’s, since I couldn’t manage both and still close the car door. I was standing on the porch with the pumpkin pie when Jon’s BMW pulled up behind my car and he called out “Merry Christmas” as he got out.

“Grab the other pie,” I called to him. He opened the front passenger door, ducked in, and came out with the pie and a comical look on his face. Doc was just opening the front door when Jon got to me.

“How did you know this was my favorite?” he asked.

“I didn’t. Doc requested it.”

“I can’t get enough pecan pie. And they never have it in pie shops except around Thanksgiving and Christmas. I would seriously pay you to make me one of these every week.”

“Well, I’m probably a little expensive for you,” I teased. “If I charge my going rate per hour at the clinic, times two hours to make a pecan pie, let’s see. That’ll be $480 per pie.”

“If you can bake a good one, it would be worth it.”

“Don’t be silly.”

Doc listened to our banter, then said, “Merry Christmas, by the way. Wasn’t sure you knew I was here.”

I kissed him on the cheek, said “Sorry! Where do you want this?” lifting the pumpkin pie in my hands. Jon had been so focused on the pecan that he hadn’t noticed the pumpkin before.

“Oh, my God! I think I have to marry you!”

I froze. After our talk the other night, I couldn’t believe he’d even joke about that. Doc noticed my discomfort and said, “No,
I
have dibs on her,” which broke the tension.

“I’m not marrying anyone right now, boys,” I said, trying for a return to the light banter of a moment before. When I’d put the whipping cream in the fridge to stay cold until it was time to whip it, I went back out to the car for the gifts I’d brought. I was a bit nervous about Jon’s. The joke had seemed quite funny when I bought it, but now I wasn’t so sure. I carried the basket and the gift bag into the house and surreptitiously slipped them under the tree. Maybe there’d be no occasion to give them to their intended recipients, but I knew Doc would find the basket eventually.

When I went back into the kitchen, Doc had Jon arranging crudités on a platter around a bowl of creamy-looking dip. I stole a broccoli floret and dipped, popping it into my mouth quickly when I saw Doc turning around. It was too big to hold there, though, so Doc caught me chewing and swallowing.

“Jon, don’t let her spoil her appetite. Dinner will be ready in half an hour. Erin, would you like to mash the potatoes?” The three of us worked companionably in the kitchen and it was so much like home, except that my co-cooks were men, that I began to feel as happy as I had when I woke up this morning, despite Jon’s faux pas. This was going to turn out to be a fun day, I could feel it.

Two hours later, all three of us were groaning with having eaten too much, and we hadn’t even cut the pies yet. Doc suggested we rest up in the living room before attempting pie, saying we could watch TV, or play Scrabble, or just take a nap if we wanted. Of course, the tree was in the living room, which I already knew. Doc’s expression gave me a hint that he was using the suggestion as a ruse to get us all around the tree, and I got nervous again about my gift to Jon. It was too late to hide it now, though. For better or worse, Jon was going to see it. I just hoped he didn’t think I was too weird. On the other hand, why did I even care what he thought?

Once we were seated in the living room, Doc made a show of discovering the gifts under the tree. “What’s this? Why, I believe Santa’s been here!” It was so silly I had to laugh, in spite of being a bit nervous. Doc examined the tags on the gifts, exclaiming over the huge basket of goodies I’d brought him. “These treats look scrumptious,” he said. “Moose droppings, yum, my favorite.” Then he handed me a small box with a pretty silver bow from him and a larger box, professionally wrapped, from Jon. He handed Jon a box slightly larger than mine from him, and the gift bag that held my gift to Jon, and finally sat down with Jon’s gift, a tall box that sloshed. A wicked grin stole over his face as he asked Jon, “Is this what I think it is?”