Someone to Watch Over Me (17 page)

Gwen thought she had him there, that he’d admit she was right and that would open up the door to him considering all sorts of other things, things that could include staying with her.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I mean, I lost my father when I was eleven. What was the point in that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why take him away from all of us? He was a good man. He had my mother, who loved him like crazy, and me and three little girls. Kim wasn’t even two. Why would Someone take him from us all, when there are all sorts of horrible people in the world still here, walking around?”

“I don’t know that, either. But the way you’re making it sound—you at least believe someone’s in charge, making all these things happen.”

“If there is, He took my father from me, and now He’s got my mother, and I’m not happy with Him. And Gwen, you have got to know, I’m sure not the kind of man who’d be the answer to any woman’s prayers.”

“Why not? You’re a good man.”

“I’ve never stayed with a woman for more than three months in my entire life.”

“Why?”

“It wouldn’t last much longer than that anyway,” he insisted.

“Why?”

“Because things like that don’t last,” he said as if he were the ultimate authority on that for the entire universe.

“Sure they do.”

“I already had this conversation with my dead mother today,” he said.

“And she didn’t buy this theory of yours any more than I do, right?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Did you ever meet a woman you wanted to stay with for more than three months, anyway?” she tried, deciding to change tactics.

“No,” he admitted.

“Well, maybe that’s changed. Did you even think of that?” It would have to change if he was going to be the answer to her prayers. “I feel safe with you. Do you know what that means to me? How wonderful it is? I didn’t think I’d ever feel safe again, especially not with a man, and now, here you are.”

“But I won’t stay. I don’t know how. What about that?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t say I believed without a doubt that you’re the answer to my prayers. I’m just…considering the possibility. That’s all. Just like I’m considering the possibility that your mother talks to you somehow. You believe that. Why can’t you at least consider the other?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I feel like I don’t know anything anymore.”

“Well, I think I’m starting to figure some things out, so maybe I can help you. You’ve helped me. A lot. Just try to let me help you in return. And don’t get all upset about the answer-to-my-prayers thing. Or the fact that I love you and my blue sweater and the dog. Just wait and see what happens. You never know, Jax. Things might just work out perfectly.”

He frowned at her. “You really need to get a dog.”

“What does the dog have to do with anything?” she yelled.

“It has to do with you feeling safe.”

“I feel safe with you.”

“Well, I’m not always around, and someday I might not be around at all—”

“You’re going to run away?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Her voice got louder. She couldn’t help it. “You’re going to get spooked and run away.”

“Hey, I could get hit by a truck tomorrow. I could get shot. I could get cancer. All sorts of things could happen so that I wouldn’t be here to look out for you. Get a dog.”

Gwen didn’t get it, didn’t see why this could possibly be so important to him. But she loved him, probably not kind-of, probably all-the-way, stupidly-and-blindly-on-faith loved him, and it wasn’t so much to ask—that she get a dog.

If it was that important to him, she could do it.

“Okay,” she agreed. “I’ll get a dog.”

There were all sorts of dogs.

Gwen bought a book that listed hundreds of different kinds, and that was just the purebreds, which said nothing about the infinite variety of mixed breeds.

She spent her lunch break sitting in the park studying all the dogs there. She talked to a woman walking a Great Dane. It was as big as a horse. Gwen didn’t think she needed a horselike dog. She noticed that the littler the dogs were, the more noise they tended to make, as if they were trying to convince the entire world that they were big dogs and not to be messed with, or else. She didn’t really need a dog with attitude. Some of them looked big and playful, and some pranced along with their noses in the air, like miniature princesses who didn’t want to get their paws dirty in the grass.

She pulled out her cell phone, as she sat on a park bench, to call Jax, and when he answered, said, “What kind of dog is Romeo?”

“Australian shepherd,” Jax said.

“Are they all so pretty?”

“He doesn’t think anyone is as pretty as he is, but yeah, they tend to be pretty dogs. But you don’t pick a dog because he’s pretty,” Jax said. “I mean, I guess you could, if that’s important to you. But you’re looking for some other qualities in an animal, right?”

“Sure.” She wanted one who’d be a good friend. One who was sweet. Cuddly would be good. She liked cuddling a lot with Romeo, and she’d decided cuddling was something a woman couldn’t have too much of. Life was too short and too hard.

She wanted a friendly dog, one who greeted the world with a smile, because she’d frowned too much in the past year. Intelligence would be good. Playful. Funny. A woman couldn’t laugh too much, either.

“So…you have any ideas?” Jax asked.

“I think I’ll make a list.”

“Oh…Okay.”

He sounded like he wasn’t sure that was a good idea.

How could making a list be a bad thing?

“It’s a big decision,” she said. “I want to get the right one.”

“Sure you do.”

“Jax, did something happen?”

“No. What do you mean?”

“You sound funny.” He could be nervous about her thinking he was a gift from God. Or about her loving him. Or about any number of things. She really hoped he didn’t go out with another woman just to see how that worked for him. She’d been seriously annoyed with him over that.

“I’m fine,” he insisted.

“Okay. I think I have to get back to work.”

“Don’t worry about the dog thing. I’ll help you find just the right one,” he promised.

“Okay.”

“See you about six?”

“Sure.”

And then he was gone. Gwen stared at a golden Lab playing Frisbee with a twenty-something-year-old guy. The dog could jump so high in the air and twist his body every which way to catch the thing. Then he trotted back to his owner with the Frisbee in his mouth.

Gwen considered adding
athletic
and
good paw/eye coordination
to her list, but then decided those weren’t really important to her.
Playful
was enough.

She gathered up the remains of her lunch—chicken salad and fruit from a nearby deli—and tossed it in a trash can, then walked back to the flower shop.

Along the way she passed a lady who wanted to come into the shop that week—time to place the final order for the flowers for her daughter’s wedding. They’d finally agreed on a color scheme.

“That’s wonderful, Mrs. Lee. I’ll call you as soon as I get back and have the appointment book in front of me.” Her daughter still had another year of college to go, and the parents were not happy about the timing of the wedding, but the daughter seemed to be and promised she’d finish her degree. Gwen had played referee the first time the mother and daughter had come in.

Then she ran into Mrs. Castle, whose daughter had just had a baby, a girl, seven pounds, nine ounces, named Anne Marie. Gwen knew because she’d made the flower arrangement Mrs. Castle had taken to the hospital the day before.

“Good morning, Mrs. Castle,” Gwen said.

“Morning, dear.”

“How’s the baby?”

“Just beautiful. I’m on my way to the drugstore to pick up the first photos of her.”

“That’s great. Come by the shop and show them to us.”

“I will,” she promised.

Gwen grinned all the way back to the shop.

Joanie was behind the counter when she arrived, helping Brian Wright, one of their regulars, select something from the stock of flowers in the big vases out front.

Gwen knew just what he was saying, that he wanted something different, something bold and unusual. He always said that. His girlfriend, Janie Ross, thought he was too predictable, too set in his ways, and she’d been resisting all efforts he made to get her to marry him.

He kept thinking flowers were the answer.

Gwen greeted them both, and Joanie said, “Gwen, you’ll never guess what happened.”

Brian was absolutely beaming at her, which was all she needed to see to know. “Janie said yes?” she guessed.

“Yes. Finally!”

“That’s terrific.”

And she still got flowers? Even better.

“Now, when it comes time to plan the wedding,” Joanie said, “you bring her to us, and we’ll make sure she has the most beautiful flowers this town has ever seen, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

Gwen was still grinning when she got into the back room. Good for him. She hoped they’d be very happy, hoped she’d be making bouquets for their first anniversary and their tenth and even their twentieth.

Why shouldn’t she? She liked it here, and Joanie was great, like a second mother to her, or an indulgent aunt.

Putting on her apron, Gwen went over to the worktable and picked up an order that needed filling. Table arrangements for Mr. and Mrs. Covington’s surprise anniversary party, thrown by their four children. The couple had been together for forty years, and it had Gwen thinking about how being in the shop made her so much a part of people’s lives. The best and the worst, but still a part of everyone.

The town was great. People knew each other and were so friendly. She was starting to feel a part of something here.

Even the sad occasions, she didn’t mind so much anymore. People told her their troubles and about the tragedies in their lives, and she listened and tried to make them feel better.

It had given her a stronger sense of the way life went, that good and bad came to everyone, and life went on.

She’d learned a lot in the past year.

She took a bundle of greenery from the big cooler in back, which she’d use as a base for the table arrangements, and set them down on her worktable. When she turned around to grab the tulips, Joanie was staring at her.

“What?” Gwen asked.

“You were humming again.”

Gwen just grinned.

Joanie came over and gave her a big hug, and when she went to pull away, Gwen noticed that her boss had tears in her eyes.

“What?” Gwen asked.

“Oh, honey. You were so sad when you came here. I’ve been so worried. And now, to see you like this…Well, I’m just so happy.” And then Joanie started to cry.

Gwen nearly did, too.

“You’re really happy now, aren’t you?” Joanie asked.

“Yes. I am.”

“And the Farmers’ niece said you were so nice to her and so helpful yesterday when you talked to her. She felt so much better, said you seemed so strong and so sure of yourself. She just wished she could be half as strong as you.”

“She’s going to be fine. She seemed so much more together than I was right after I was attacked. I’ll have to go back and see her and tell her so.”

“And things are going well, with you and Jax?”

“I think so. I mean, I know he’s not entirely comfortable with everything, but I think he really cares about me, and he’s such a great guy.” Gwen worked up her courage and said, “I think I’m in love with him. I just couldn’t help myself.”

Joanie looked worried then. “He tends to have that effect on women. But I think losing his mother changed him.”

“Me, too,” Gwen said.

“And he couldn’t keep going the way he has been with women. All men have to grow up sometime. I guess anything is possible.”

“Right,” Gwen said. She figured, if nothing else, she could wait him out. Wait for him not to be so afraid of loving someone, not so afraid that it wouldn’t last, that nothing did. He had to get over that idea sooner or later.

Gwen just hoped it was sooner.

“One more thing,” Gwen said. “I’m thinking of getting a dog, but I don’t know how to pick one.”

“Well, in my experience, the best ones find you.”

“What do you mean?”

“They just show up under your nose. It’s like they know who they need in their lives and who needs them, and they pick you.”

“Oh.” Gwen hadn’t thought of that.

But later that night, as she was getting ready to go see Jax, she happened to glance up at her angel on the mantel and thought of her idea that maybe, just maybe, God had been listening to her after all and that He’d sent Jax to her, to help them both through their troubles and maybe the rest of their lives.

She stood in the middle of her living room, realizing she was humming and that Jax was waiting and that she wasn’t afraid, that life did indeed seem very, very good, and she offered up a heartfelt prayer of thanks to God for looking out for her the past year and said she was sorry for being so mad at Him and for blaming Him for the attack.

And, if it’s not too much trouble, could you send me a dog?

G
wen went to church that Sunday morning feeling as though she was coming home in so many ways, and tears of joy and relief and gratitude fell down her cheeks through much of the service.

The woman sitting next to her put her arm around Gwen and asked if she was okay. The woman on her other side kept handing her tissues. People were staring, and she was managing to smile through her tears.

It was a kind little church, welcoming, supportive, understanding, encouraging…everything Gwen thought a house of God should be, and the people around her that day opened their hearts to her, fussed over her, patted her back, even kissed her cheek. All of that had been right there waiting for her the whole time she’d been in Magnolia Falls. All she’d had to do was open her eyes and her heart to it.

She stood outside in the bright spring sunshine chatting with more people, waiting until the crowd drifted away, and then slipped back into the empty church and sat down in the third pew and cried some more.

It was as if the remnants of every hurt she’d experienced in the last year was pouring out of her, leaving her body once and for all, like a burden she didn’t have to carry anymore, a weight that had been lifted off of her.

She closed her eyes and said a simple prayer.

Thank You for taking care of me, even when I didn’t know You were there. Even when I was mad at You because I didn’t think You were there. And thank you for bringing me to this nice, little town, and for all the people here who’ve been so kind to me. Especially Jax.

A part of her wanted to ask if she could keep Jax forever, but that seemed a bit too much to ask, considering all God had done for her recently. Gwen didn’t want to seem greedy.

And then she thought of something else she should be asking for.

Please help me to help him.

The next day, Gwen was outside emptying a can of flower cuttings into the flower shop’s composting bin when she heard a really odd sound coming from somewhere down the alley.

She shook out the bin to make sure it was empty and then lowered it to the ground, frowning as she surveyed the alley, wondering what that sound might have been. She wouldn’t have been surprised to see a cat crawl out from behind one of the Dumpsters or come around a corner of a building. But there was nothing. Maybe she’d imagined the whole thing.

She turned to go back inside, and then she heard it again.

Maybe not a cat. Maybe something else.

Whatever it was, it made a pitiful sound. Something like poor Romeo when his heart was broken, missing Jax’s mother.

Gwen crept down the alley. It was broad daylight, near noon, in fact, nothing sinister about this place at all. She walked past the craft shop next door, past the sporting goods store, and came to the back of the little café where she often got a sandwich for her lunch.

“Hello?” she called out, and something mewed in response.

Gwen hunched down on her heels and looked along the ground below two cars and then the Dumpster. Nothing.

“Where are you?” she tried.

Mew.
There it was again.

She walked around the cars, around the Dumpster, all along the back of the café. Still nothing.

The only place she hadn’t looked was inside the Dumpster.
Oooh.
Although she supposed if something was hungry enough, a restaurant Dumpster was the place to be.

She stood up on her toes and peered over the side, wrinkling up her nose from the smell. It was awful. She didn’t want to think of what was in there, besides her mewing thing.

And then, as she was watching, something moved beneath the pile of rubble.

“Ahhh.” It startled her and she jumped back.

The smell really was horrendous. She had to force herself to look in there again. Something was definitely there, below a pile of vegetable trimmings and other things she really didn’t want to know about.

“Come here, baby,” Gwen said. “Come on.”

Then she heard a little roar.

Okay.

She tried climbing on the outside of the Dumpster so she could get a better view, but that wasn’t working. She needed a ladder. And some gloves. She ran back to the flower shop, burst in the back door and yelled for Joanie.

“There’s something in Charlie’s Café’s Dumpster!”

“What do you mean, something?” Joanie said.

“I don’t know. A cat maybe.” Gwen grimaced. “I can see it wriggling around under this morning’s garbage, but it wouldn’t come out when I called to it.”

“Okay. We’ll take the broom. Maybe we can move some stuff around with the handle.”

“And the stepladder. And gloves,” Gwen said, grabbing the broom because it was the first item she found.

They ran back down the alley as fast as they could, given what they were carrying. Gwen climbed up the stepladder, then Joanie handed her the broom.

“Here, kitty,” she said, thinking to get a fix on its position.

It made the little roaring sound again.

“I don’t blame you, baby. I’d be mad, too, if someone threw veggie scraps on top of me.” Gwen poked tentatively here and there with the broom handle, moving things around as best she could and hitting nothing at first.

“There,” Joanie said, pointing to the far corner. “I think something moved under there.”

Gwen shifted the ladder to the right and then started poking through garbage again. Something yelped, and she jerked back, nearly falling off the stepladder. By the time she’d climbed back up again, she could see a gray, furry thing wriggling in the corner. A big, gray, furry thing.

It was either the biggest cat she’d ever seen or…

“It’s a dog!” she cried, then frowned at it. “Isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” Joanie said. She was standing on tiptoe and could barely see over the side of the Dumpster.

The thing inside was kind of gray, with some light brown hair, some dark brown hair, but really long, long hair, matted badly in spots, and she wasn’t even sure at first if it had a face or where its face might be. But then she
realized one little speck of black off to the right of the furry blob was either its nose or one eye.

“Auurrrrff,” it whined, turning toward Gwen.

Yes, that was definitely a nose. It shook off the worst of the veggies and then bounded over the top of the garbage heap and came to side of the Dumpster where Gwen was. Then it lifted itself up on its hind paws like it was trying to climb out and get to her.

“Oh, yuck,” Joanie said. “It smells.”

“I know.” Gwen frowned down into the little face looking so eagerly at her. All that bouncing around had cleared a bit of the fur from its face, and she could see parts of two big black eyes staring back at her and a little twitching nose, a tiny black mouth.

“Ruuufff!”

“Okay, so it knows it’s a dog at least,” Joanie said, then looked at Gwen. “Are you going to lift it out of there?”

Gwen made a face. Was that mustard in its fur? Or something even more disgusting?

“Ruuufff!” the thing said, wagging its tail like crazy.

“Okay, okay,” Gwen said. “Just give me a minute.”

She gave Joanie the broom and then took off her pretty Petal Pushers apron, thinking to wrap the dog in it until they could wash it off.

The dog needed no more than that as encouragement. It scrambled up the side of the Dumpster and launched itself into Gwen’s arms, landing against her chest, its stench increasing steadily the closer it came.

Then it started licking her cheek.

“Ooohhh,” Gwen yelled.

Joanie laughed.

The dog barked excitedly.

“I think it likes you,” Joanie said.

Gwen wrapped it up as best she could in the apron, something the dog didn’t appreciate in the least, then looked down at what had been one of her favorite white shirts.

“Don’t even think about it,” Joanie said. “We’ll just run back to the shop and throw the dog in one of the big sinks in the back, and if we have to, we’ll hose you down.”

Joanie was laughing then.

Gwen was, too.

The dog was licking her again.

“No, no, no,” she said. “Not that. Please?”

“Aaarrrf!” it said, wiping its nose on her shirt.

“Come on,” Joanie said. “I always keep a change of clothes at the shop, just in case I make a mess of what I’m wearing.”

They hurried back to the flower shop and put the dog in the big metal sink in back, which the animal did not appreciate in the least. It whined pitifully and begged to get out.

“Don’t worry,” Gwen said. “We’re going to make it all better. You’ll come out smelling like a rose.”

Because they had rose-scented soap. It was either use that or take the time to go to the supermarket and get doggie shampoo. She didn’t think she or Joanie could stand to be in the same room with the dog for the time it would take to go get doggie shampoo, and they couldn’t leave the creature alone.

Joanie came out of her office with a clean shirt for Gwen and told her to go change, and Gwen did, grateful not to have to spend another second in her soiled shirt. When she came back, Joanie had soaked the dog and starting soaping up its smelly, matted fur.

“This is so disgusting,” Joanie said.

The dog looked like it had shrunk to half its previous size now that its fur was wet. The poor thing howled and
made sad eyes at Gwen, the kind that said it felt horribly betrayed by this bath. As if a sinkful of clean water was worse than a Dumpster.

“Oh, it’s probably starving, if it was desperate enough to hop in the Dumpster,” Gwen said.

“I have a ham sandwich in my purse. We can feed her that.”

“It’s a her?” Gwen asked.

“Yes. I checked. No tag. No collar.” Joanie grinned. “I told you the best dogs find us.”

Gwen grinned, too. “I bet she’s really cute when she’s clean and her fur’s trimmed.”

She couldn’t wait to introduce this pretty baby to Jax and Romeo.

They called the county animal shelter. No one had reported the dog missing. Checked the lost-and-found ads in the newspaper. Nothing there, either.

And the dog had obviously been on the streets for a while, given the condition of her coat. Joanie said to run an ad in the lost-and-found for a week, and they’d left information at the shelter about the dog, in case anyone was looking for it. And if no one claimed her by then, to consider the dog hers. Gwen thought that sounded like a good plan.

After two baths with rose-scented soap and then another two, later in the day, with doggie shampoo, the animal didn’t smell too bad, although she was spitting mad about the four baths.

“I suppose that is a bit much in any one day,” Gwen admitted.

She’d bought a collar, a leash, a brush and dog food when she’d gone to the market to grab the shampoo. The dog wasn’t gray, as she’d first thought, just really, really
dirty. She was actually a beautiful white with light and dark highlights and long, pretty, corkscrew curls.

“I used to want hair just like yours,” she told the dog, as they walked home that evening.

The dog, still damp from her baths, looked skeptical.

“Really, I did. I thought life would be glorious if only I had corkscrew curls. Of course, we’re going to have to get you a good trim. But don’t worry. After the Dumpster anything’s going to be a step up. Even another bath and a trip to the dog groomer’s.”

The dog frowned up at Gwen and cocked her head the way Romeo did when he didn’t understand.

“Maybe we’ll just let that part be a surprise, okay?”

And off they went quite happily.

Jax called as Gwen was getting ready to leave for his mother’s house that evening, and she said, “I was just coming over. I have a surprise for you.”

“What kind of surprise?”

“A good one. No…a great one. I can’t wait for you to see it.”

“See what?”

“The surprise. I can’t tell you. Then it wouldn’t be a surprise,” she reasoned.

She took another few minutes to fuss over the dog. She’d dried her hair with a blow-dryer, worried that the dog had been wet all day and might catch cold—if dogs caught colds—and the blow-dryer had left the poor dog’s excessive fur all puffed up. She seemed to know she looked even funnier now than she had covered with Dumpster goo.

Gwen brushed the dog’s fur as best she could, was tempted to cut out the worst of the matted knots, but Joanie said
she really should let the dog groomer do it, and they did have an appointment for the next day. But she wanted her to be so pretty for Jax and Romeo.

“We’ll wow ’em tomorrow,” Gwen promised. “For now, I think this is the best we can do.”

She snapped the leash back on and off they went. The dog pranced down the alley, head held high, and Gwen hummed.

Life was very, very good.

Jax had had one of those days. The Bees had come and talked about Jax’s mother fondly and cried copious tears, then began hauling away stuff when his sister Katie showed up. She looked horrified as she saw boxes and boxes of stuff being hauled out of the house, barely acknowledged the Bees’ greetings and then got Jax off into a corner alone.

“They’re taking her stuff? You’re just getting rid of her things without a word to me and Kim and Kathie?”

“Yes,” he said defiantly.

Katie sputtered and stammered, finally managing to get out, “How can you be so mean about this?”

“I’m not being mean. It’s not mean to give away wigs that she hated and scarves that she only put on because her head was bare and got cold, and a cane she hated using, her bedpan. Do you really want her bedpan, Katie?”

Which made his sister start to cry.

Great.

“She was generous with everything she ever had, and she loved these women. Some of them are going bald and won’t be able to afford a wig of their own or the other stuff they need. She’d want them to have it, Katie. You know that.”

“I do.”

“Then why are you yelling at me for doing something she’d do herself if she was here.”

“I just miss her so much,” Katie cried.

“So do I. But she’s not here in this stuff. There might be little parts of her or at least good memories of her in some other things in this house, and they’re still here. You can take any of it you like. But you can’t ask me to stay here indefinitely, surrounded by all her things. It’s too hard for me. And we don’t want to leave the house empty for any length of time, especially with all of her belongings still in it. And we sure can’t sell the place or rent it with all these things in it. So the stuff has to go.”