The Art of Wag (15 page)

“I don’t know. Maybe 20 hours to get the mock ups done? Then the meeting will be a couple of hours I guess. I’ll keep track.”

Tracy put her chopstick back down on the table next to the other one. “You’re really sure you want me to do this? I’m not a computer person, you know.” That was putting it nicely.

“I know. You just don’t have much experience. You can learn it like you did in the class. But you
are
an art person.”

“An art person who really needs money.”

Rob sipped his tea. “If that’s the way you want to put it, yes, I suppose so.”

Chapter 7

A
s Tracy limped The Turd up the mountain road back toward Alpine Grove, she tried to imagine she was driving the Prelude instead. The weather was gray and dreary again, which was making the tired old car cranky. It backfired and slowed to twenty-five miles per hour, which effectively destroyed the feeble illusion of driving bliss that Tracy was attempting to conjure up. Real life had an unpleasant habit of intruding on her fantasies.

An obnoxious booming
ooo-gaaa
horn sound came from behind her on the road. Tracy looked in her rearview mirror and spotted Bud Fowler’s truck following her. He leaned his grizzled bald head out the window and shouted, “Come on Tracy! Put that thang in gear wouldja?”

Tracy waved her hand out the window indicating he should go around. Bud honked at her again. She glared at the rearview mirror.
Just go around, Bud.
But no, he honked again. She slowed The Turd down to a crawl, which made the car happy, but given the expression on Bud’s face, seemed to infuriate him. He spit some brown fluid out the window. Yuck. Tracy had seen Bud’s car around town and noticed that there were streaks of brown that had dribbled down the side of the truck door. Why did men chew tobacco? It was disgusting.

Bud leaned out the window again. “Outta my way, sweetheart. I gotta git home or the wife is gonna kill me.” He revved the engine of the old truck for emphasis.

As Tracy approached a pull-out on the road, she slowed the car to a stop and let Bud go by. He waved out the window as he accelerated. The Turd’s idle started to sputter even more than usual and Tracy jammed the car into first gear and popped the clutch. “Don’t you dare crap out on me here!” With a lurch, the car moved back onto the road. Tracy floored it, trying to will the car to at least accelerate up to the speed limit. But the geriatric machine had other plans and it was not to be. Tracy frowned as she grudgingly accepted the second-gear lumbering. It was slow going, but at least the car was still moving, which was better than walking home.

After the interminably slow ride up the hill, Tracy finally arrived at her apartment. She waved to her mom through the window of the gift store and Bea smiled back at her warmly. At least Mom was glad to see her. She went up the stairs to her apartment and opened the door. An array of unpleasant odors assaulted her senses. Had Roxy hunted down something when she wasn’t looking? Although dachshunds were originally bred to hunt badgers, Roxy wasn’t picky. If she had found a rodent in here somewhere, she might have hidden it before Tracy took her to Kat’s place. Tracy gazed across the sea of clutter in the small apartment. It wasn’t like there weren’t a lot of places to hide a partially masticated rodent body.

Tracy put down her suitcase and started making an effort to pick up the items on the floor and put them away. As she unearthed a path through the room, she sniffed repeatedly, trying to isolate where the noxious odors were emanating from. The smell of decomposing food seemed to be stronger as she approached the kitchen. Tracy got a garbage bag out of a cabinet and dealt with the detritus of past meals. That helped tone down some of the olfactory ills, but there was still an underlying aroma of something dead.

She walked over to the laundry pile in the corner and noticed a few of her t-shirts had been scattered, like someone had been digging. Tracy hadn’t had a chance to do her laundry at her parents’ house or the laundromat lately. The laundromat was no fun and it was easy to think up excuses not to go. But like most dachshunds, Roxy loved to dig. Maybe Tracy had put off laundry day a little too long this time. She grabbed another garbage bag and started throwing the dirty clothes into it, one by one. And there at the bottom of the pile, she found the body.
Thanks Roxy.

After disposing of the expired rodent in the dumpster behind the store and washing her hands three or four times, Tracy called Kat, who said it was fine to pick up Roxy any time. Now that the floor was visible again, Tracy had certainly done enough cleaning for one day, anyway.

The Turd was less than enthusiastic about starting again, but Tracy finally got it going and wound her way out to the sticks. As the car clunked down Kat’s driveway, she hoped everything had gone okay. Kat had made it sound like all was well on the phone, but Tracy wasn’t looking forward to seeing Kat’s mother again, since mother and daughter obviously didn’t get along.

Tracy parked the car under a tree, where it belched out some smoke and convulsed a few times before finally settling into silence. Maybe it was time for a tune-up.

Joel emerged from an outbuilding and waved at her. “Hi, Tracy. I’m sure you know this, but your car seems to have a problem.”

Tracy’s eyes widened as she appraised his appearance. Joel had gotten a haircut and shaved. Holy moly, he was good-looking again. Given that she hadn’t had a date in a while, it was difficult not to stare. Or swoon. When he smiled, he was incredibly cute. His forest-green eyes made her want to start down some R-rated mental pathways. Oops. Kat’s boyfriend. Don’t go there.

He raised his eyebrows. “Are you okay?”

Tracy nodded. “I’m fine.” Working all the time was really putting a crimp in her social life.

Joel motioned toward the house. “Roxy is inside with Kat. I’m sure she’ll be glad to see you.”

“Thanks.” Tracy turned toward the steps and looked back over her shoulder. Joel was bending down to pick up some lumber. Nice. She tripped over a root and caught herself before she crash-landed on the ground. Wow, she really needed to get out more.

She knocked on the door. Kat opened it and Roxy was standing next to her, barking furiously. Tracy bent down to collect her little dog in her arms. “How’s my brave defender? I found the gift you left for me in my laundry. That really wasn’t necessary.” Roxy wagged, squirmed, and tried to lick her face.

Kat waved toward the house. “Come on in. Do you want something to drink or anything?”

“No, I’m fine. Was Roxy good?”

“Yes. No problems.”

Tracy looked down the stairwell. Kat’s mother was coming up the stairs. “Hi, Mrs. Stevens. It’s nice to see you again.”

Mary grimaced. Maybe it was her version of a smile. “Hello. It appears Roxy is pleased you have returned.”

Tracy put Roxy on the ground. The dog circled her happily, obviously ready to head back home. “Yes. Thank you for taking care of her.”

“I think you should be more careful about her diet.” Mary frowned. “Small dogs like Roxy are prone to gaining weight.”

“Actually, I work at the vet clinic here in town, so I know all about that.” Tracy looked at Kat, who was standing with her hands clasped in front of her, a resigned expression on her face. “The fat dog chat is one of Dr. C’s favorite speeches. She talks to owners about the risks of obesity a lot.”

“Hmmph.” Mary scowled. “I’m just worried about the dog’s health.”

Kat said, “I’m going to go ask Joel to get the crate for us.”

Tracy turned and picked up her dog again. “I’ll put Roxy in the car.”

The two women and Roxy hurriedly went outside. Tracy busied herself ensconcing Roxy in the back seat of the car while Kat walked over to the outbuilding to talk to Joel. Tracy slammed the car door, stood up, and saw Joel say something to Kat, stroke her cheek, and kiss her tenderly. So much for R-rated fantasies. Sure, she knew he was taken, but he was
really
taken. They were like teenagers in an after-school special or something. Ugh. Why was it that when she was utterly dateless, everyone else in the world was in love?

Kat and Joel walked hand in hand, back toward Tracy. Kat stopped next to Tracy as Joel continued on up the steps to the house. Kat shook her head. “I’m really sorry about my mother. She can be sort of opinionated.”

Tracy waved toward the backseat of the car. “So can Roxy.”

“I think they’re best friends now; it’s sort of cute. I had to go out...somewhere...and my mother made Roxy a pillow fort.”

“Really?”

“She was worried Roxy might fall off the bed and hurt herself.”

“Aww, that’s adorable.” Tracy smiled. “She really did take good care of her.”

The door opened and Joel came outside with the crate. He stowed it in the back of the car and stood next to Kat. He pointed at The Turd and said to Tracy, “You really should get your car looked at. I’m guessing that at a minimum, it needs new spark plugs.”

Tracy paused as she opened the driver’s side door. “Oh, it needs way more than that. And it’s cloudy today. This car is old and sensitive to weather like an old guy with rheumatism in his knees. Unless I get a new car, you won’t have to worry about seeing me this winter because I’ll be walking everywhere.”

Kat sat on the front steps of the house next to Joel and watched as Tracy’s car sputtered down the driveway. “What is wrong with that thing? I didn’t think she was going to get it started again.”

“The possibilities are numerous and probably expensive. I’m impressed she got it going. For a minute, I thought we were going to end up with another house guest.”

“She and the car seem to have an understanding, particularly about meteorological conditions.”

He tilted his head back and looked up at the dreary gray sky. “Talk about a fair-weather friend.”

Kat poked him in the ribs. “Very funny. So are you coming inside? It’s almost dark. I know I asked about the door, but you really don’t have to work on the Tessa Hut all day. Aren’t you cold? It’s so damp out here.”

“I’ve got gloves. And there are advantages to being outside. For one thing, your mother is inside. Have you found out when she’s leaving yet?”

“No. Maybe we can delicately inquire at dinner. She seems pretty settled in, though.” Mary had a way of moving into a space and taking it over. Like a virus.

“Yeah, I noticed. That’s what I’m worried about. Her big suitcase weighs about four-hundred pounds. Have you heard anything from your family at home?”

“Not a peep. Would you say anything if she went on an extended vacation?” Kat’s sisters had probably been partying hard since Mary left.

“Good point.”

Kat stood up and turned to go inside. “Coming?”

“I’ll be there in a minute. I need to go put stuff away before it gets dark and I can’t find it anymore.”

“Don’t leave me in there alone for too long.”

“She’s
your
mother.”

“Don’t remind me.”

Joel strolled off toward the Tessa Hut. Kat sighed and continued up the stairs. She went inside and dealt with the pet-feeding program, much to the joy and delight of all the canine and feline residents.

Mary stood in the doorway of Kat’s office and watched as Kat herded all the dogs back downstairs for their post-dinner nap. “You seem to have quite a system for that.”

“Yes. Usually the dogs spend more time upstairs, but I know how you feel about fur in your food.”

“I think I made that quite clear last night.”

“Yes. So they’ll be down here.” Kat turned to go back up the stairs and held the gate at the bottom open for her mother. “I need to figure out what we’re having for dinner.”

Mary walked through the gate and marched up the steps. Kat closed it and followed her. The same question kept repeating in her mind like a loop: when was her mother leaving?

Joel came in the front door and almost ran into Mary at the top of the stairs. “Oops. Sorry.”

“You’re so tall and gangly. Men are always in the way.”

Joel arched a single eyebrow at Kat. She shook her head minutely and said to Mary, “It looks like you’re almost done with the quilts.”

“Yes. I need you to get some dowels for me so I can hang them up. You have nothing on the walls here. Tomorrow I am going to look through more of the boxes in that little room.”