The Dogs of Christmas (20 page)

The puppies were busy wrestling over a torn book jacket and took no interest in their sister’s departure. Their mother was lying on her pillow and Josh held Sophie out to Lucy for a nose-to-nose farewell. Sophie licked and nipped at her mother, who looked away in disgust. She got to her feet, though, when Josh opened the front door, bounding out to greet Kerri and to sniff at the Sherwood family.

“We’re all set here,” Kerri called, waving the clipboard at Josh.

“There you are, there’s our baby,” Jody crooned. She pulled Sophie out of Josh’s hands and the puppy kissed her face. “I love the white tip at the end of her tail, her little white tip.” She laughed. “Look at the collar, isn’t it the cutest?”

“Very cute,” Andy affirmed drolly.

Josh swallowed and nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Jody gave Sophie a toy kangaroo. It seemed pretty silly to have a kangaroo in Colorado, but Sophie didn’t seem to mind.

As the car pulled away, little Sophie sat in Jody’s lap, staring at Josh and Lucy in what he felt certain was complete befuddlement, and that’s what broke him. He turned away from Kerri so she wouldn’t see his tears. Lucy came to his side, nosing his hand in concern.

“Josh…” Kerri said softly.

“Why do we do this?” he grated hoarsely. “Did you see Sophie’s face? Why do we think we have the right to break up families?”

“We’re not breaking families, we’re making families,” Kerri said.

Josh forced himself under control, taking his breaths in deep gulps.

Kerri was watching him steadily with her clear blue eyes. “I know that right now it seems sad that the puppies are leaving each other, but I promise you that Sophie’s going to be so, so happy. They all are.”

“How can you know that?”

“Because being with us is a dog’s purpose, Josh. We bred the species to be that way—the ones that didn’t want to live with people weren’t allowed to reproduce. So after thousands of years, it’s literally in their blood. If you could see some of the feral dogs we pick up, you’d understand. Living away from humans, even in a dog pack, is unnatural for them. They aren’t happy.”

“Is this another one of your speeches you give?”

She blinked as if he’d tried to slap her. “No,” she replied in a small voice.

A familiar SUV pulled in the driveway. It was Matt, Josh’s neighbor, with his little girl, Juliet. Kerri handed him another Christmas collar. “I’ll get Lola,” Josh told them. Lucy wagged at the new arrivals, sitting and letting Juliet pet her.

When he came back out of the house, something told him to put Lola down on the lawn, and when he did Juliet knelt and the puppy bounded across the yellow grass and straight into the little girl’s arms. Part of Josh’s resentment melted away as he watched their joyous coming together. Whatever else happened that day, this part felt right.

“That was like watching a dog food commercial,” Josh remarked, joining the adult people. Matt was signing Kerri’s paper.

“It’s all she asked for this Christmas,” Matt replied. He handed the clipboard to Kerri and held his hand out to Josh. “Much obliged.”

“Sure,” Josh said.

As they left, Josh crossed his arms. It felt colder.

“I have a feeling that Lola’s going to be hugged for forty-eight straight hours,” Kerri observed happily.

Josh didn’t reply.

“Did that help? Seeing the little girl, how happy the two of them were together?”

Josh couldn’t think of an answer to her question that wouldn’t carry a sharp edge to it. He resented being talked down to. He wasn’t a mental case.

“We get dogs all year round,” Kerri told him. “You can have one or two or three, anytime.”

“I don’t want future dogs, I want my dogs,” Josh responded dully.
Nobody understood.

“Next one is Rufus,” Kerri said after a long silence, the hostility firmly reestablished between them.

As it turned out, Rufus was not next. Instead, after a long wait, Oliver’s new owner came, an older man whose craggy face broke into a wide smile when Josh brought the little dog out. He looked like a lot of the men of Evergreen, wearing layered mountain garb and heavy boots. His SUV had a multifunction rack on top with clamps for skis and for a kayak, and there was a large, heavy-looking backpack visible through the rear window.

“You a hiker?” Josh guessed.

“Yep,” the man replied, his focus on his new puppy. “This little guy and I are going to hit the trails as soon as he’s old enough.”

Josh glanced probingly at Kerri. She gave a tiny shrug. “Bye, Oliver,” Josh murmured as he handed him over, the small Christmas bulb jiggling Oliver’s collar.

“He’s retired and his wife just died of cancer,” Kerri volunteered as the man drove off.

Josh looked at her.

“Oliver’s new daddy,” she explained. “He’ll love him and they’ll be the centers of each other’s worlds.”

“You’re pretty good at this. Finding the right people, I mean. A shop-a-holic for Sophie and an explorer for Oliver.”

“Right, lots of practice, I guess.”

He nodded and glanced at the front window of the house and there was little Rufus, the last puppy, watching them. Josh pressed his lips together. The poor little guy, all alone.

“Josh,” Kerri whispered. She half-started toward him, then stopped herself, remembering that she had written him off. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah.” Josh reached down and stroked Lucy’s head. She was gazing into his eyes with what he thought looked like sympathy. The mommy dog seemed oddly untroubled by the day’s departures. Wasn’t she grieving the loss of her children? Was Josh the only one who cared?

“I can’t get a signal,” Kerri complained, frowning at her cell phone.

“That’s what happens up here. There’s a place in the back where you can sometimes get reception if you want. I can show you.”

“Could I just use your landline instead? I want to see if I can reach the people who are coming for Rufus.”

“Sure. Come on, Lucy.”

When they opened the front door Rufus was right there, jumping up and licking his mommy’s mouth. Lucy put up with about ten seconds of it and then turned away.

“Hey, Rufus,” Josh called, picking the little dog up. The puppy stared at him, his gaze feeling like an accusation. “Not too much longer and you get to go, too.”

“I didn’t get an answer,” Kerri advised, coming back. “No voice mail, either. I thought everyone had voice mail.”

Josh put Rufus down on the floor and the little guy headed back to the bedroom where the box lived. “He’s wondering where his family is,” Josh murmured. He knew what it was like, how loudly the silence of those empty rooms could ring upon the ears.

Suddenly Lucy’s head whipped around. With a small whine, she clicked over to the window, her ears stiff.

“What is it, Lucy?” Kerri asked. Josh didn’t tell her, but he knew what it was.

A Jeep stopped in the driveway next to Kerri’s car and Lucy went to the door and scratched at the jamb, putting her nose to the crack at the bottom of the door and inhaling with a deep, shuddering sniff, whining and barking with little distressed-sounding yips. Josh went to the door and opened it and Lucy rocketed out and ran across the yard and virtually tackled the woman with long black hair who stood next to her car.

“Luce! Luce!” the woman shouted, tears in her eyes.

Lucy was crying, sobbing, her stomach to the ground, her tail thrashing, rolling on her back and then jumping to her feet, kissing the woman’s face, so overjoyed it was manic in her, unrestrainable. “Lucy, my Lucy dog.” Serena wept, falling to her knees and hugging her dog.

Kerri came up next to Josh on the front deck and stood with her hand to her mouth. “My God,” she breathed.

Josh had never seen anything like it—Lucy’s elation, her ecstasy, was the absolute embodiment of pure happiness.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Kerri asked.

Josh shrugged. “I didn’t want you to think I was doing it for you. I’m doing it for Lucy.”

Kerri was silent for a long moment. “It’s what Lucy wants,” she finally stated softly. Josh shrugged, shutting the front door behind them to keep the heat in the house. They walked down the steps together.

“Okay, okay, Luce,” Serena protested, laughing. As she stood up, Lucy jumped up, trying to kiss her face. “Down, silly. Stay down now.” Lucy tried to sit but her tail was wagging too hard. She licked Serena’s hand as if it held bacon.

“Josh?” Serena asked.

“Yeah. This is Kerri from the animal shelter.”

Serena had beautiful eyes and caramel skin. She swept her thick hair away from her face as she shook hands with Josh and Kerri.

“My flight was late. Of
course.
I drove straight here. I just, I can’t thank you enough for taking care of my Lucy dog.”

“Don’t worry about it. I mean, if it hadn’t been for Lucy, the puppies wouldn’t have made it,” Josh told her.

As he said her name, Lucy glanced over at him.

“Animal shelter,” Serena repeated, looking at the clipboard in Kerri’s hand. “Is there something I have to do to get my dog back?”

“Oh, no, no. It’s pretty obvious it’s your dog.”

They all laughed and then, as the laughter died away an odd tension rose up between them. Josh knew what it was: Serena wanted to take Lucy and leave and Josh didn’t want her to go.

“I suppose you want to get going,” Kerri encouraged. She could read Serena’s mind, too.

“Oh, yeah, I have my sister and her kids coming over for a welcome home party,” Serena answered with a light laugh.

“Could I have a minute to talk to Lucy?” Josh asked.

No one thought it was at all strange. “Sure,” Serena agreed.

Lucy, however, wouldn’t leave Serena’s side until Kerri got the idea to open the door to the Jeep. The dog happily bounded into the front seat, ready to go home with her person in the familiar car. Josh stood with the door open and put his arms around Lucy and she licked his ear.

“You are such a good dog, Lucy,” he whispered. “You saved the puppies. You were a good mommy dog and they all are going to good homes because of you.” Josh gazed into her deep brown eyes and she seemed to understand what he was saying. “I’m going to miss you so much. I love you, Lucy. Good-bye. You are a good, good dog.” Josh stepped back, closing the door. Lucy held his eyes a long moment, and then shifted her gaze to Serena, who was still standing with Kerri. Josh took a long moment to compose himself before turning around, his lips pressed together in a trembling smile.

“Can I pay you for…?” Serena asked.

“Oh, no. Please,” Josh replied.

“Okay then. Thank you again. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas. Good-bye,” Kerri said.

“Wait,” Josh said.

TWENTY

Kerri was watching Josh as if afraid of what he was going to say next. Josh turned to look at Lucy, watching them patiently from the front seat of the car, and then looked back to Serena.

“Yes?” Serena asked, sensing something.

“It’s just that you said you travel sometimes, and I was thinking, maybe next time you go out of town, if you want, you could leave Lucy with me.” Josh shrugged.

“Oh,
yeah,
of course,” Serena exclaimed. “That would be great.”

“Great,” Kerri echoed, sounding relieved.

It took Serena a full minute to get Lucy to quit licking her and trying to climb into her lap, and then the Jeep backed up and turned around. Josh saw Lucy watching him from the car window and, as they headed down the driveway, Josh lifted his hand and waved. “Bye, Lucy,” he whispered.

He turned to Kerri and she stepped forward and put her arms around him and her head on his chest. “You
are
the man I thought you were,” she breathed, her voice muffled. “I am so, so glad.”

They went into the house. “Rufus!” Josh called. He clapped his hands, whistled, and shouted the puppy’s name several times. Finally Rufus emerged from the back room, looking irritated at having been awakened. He came out to the living room, sniffing, glancing around.

“They’re all gone, little guy. So sorry,” Josh informed him softly.

Kerri was on the phone, checking her voice mail. She hung up and turned to Josh, an odd look in her eyes. “I have to go.”

Josh’s shoulders slumped. “What? Why? I was sort of hoping…” Josh raised his hands, palms up, not sure he should articulate what he had been hoping.

“We’re supposed to be closed but someone just showed up at the shelter with a dog, and Madelyn has to go home.”

“What? It’s like, Christmas Eve eve, why didn’t you just tell the people to come back later?”

“That’s not what we do, Josh. It’s fine.”

“It’s fine that people just dump their dogs? So the dog is just suddenly abandoned by his family? At Christmas?”

“No, of course not, that part’s not fine. I mean it’s fine that I go in to the shelter. Madelyn has kids; I don’t. It’s the holiday weekend.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“Right, but you need to stay here for when the people show up for Rufus.”

Josh glanced over at the sleeping puppy. “If they show up.”

“Sure. I don’t know what the story is on that.” Kerri shrugged.

“You want to bring the new dog out here?”

“Maybe.” Again, there was that odd expression in her eyes. What did that
mean
?

“So, I mean … Look, I was hoping … are you coming back?”

Kerri smiled at him. “Sure. Tomorrow, I’ll be out.”

“Tomorrow,” Josh repeated, his voice full of disappointment.

“Let me give you my cell phone number,” she told him. “So you can call me.”

“Oh? You sure we’re ready for that?”

She studied his face, then smiled. “He tells a joke,” she proclaimed.

Rufus was unimpressed when Josh explained it might be the last time he would see Kerri, even when he picked up the snoozing puppy and held his tiny nose to Kerri’s cheek. “The people will be out to pick you up, Rufus. Say good-bye.”

“He looks mostly just sleepy.” Kerri laughed.

“Sorry about that.”

“No, it’s fine. Really. Not every good-bye needs to be a big deal.”

It felt to Josh as if Kerri were about to deliver another of her canned speeches, but she seemed to think better of it. She went outside and then, with a little wave from the front seat of her car, Kerri was gone.