For Love of a Dog Page 2

  “As you say, we have indeed endured difficult days, and I’m afraid that none of us has the energy, the time nor even the interest in adding a dog to the equation. So if you wouldn’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you returned the poor creature to the people whose misguided sympathies assumed we—or even my son—would want it.”

  The tiny hairs on the back of Kai’s neck bristled. Ignoring the satisfied smile on the younger woman’s face—girlfriend? wife?—and trying hard to hold her temper, she said, “The problem is, you see, that the men who sent Amigo are back there. In Afghanistan.”

  Mrs. Rossi drew her lips together in a tight line. “If you insist on leaving the dog, I shall simply have to call Animal Protection. They’ll dispose of it for me. It’s up to you.”

  The eyes that beaded in on Kai were cool and unyielding. After a long, uncomfortable moment, Kai murmured, “I hope Captain Rossi won’t be too disappointed.”

  “He—” Mrs. Rossi began, but stopped when the other woman placed a hand on her arm.

  “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” the younger woman said and closed the door.

  Kai didn’t move, thinking perhaps the whole scene was a mistake and someone—maybe Rossi himself—would fling the door open again. No such luck. Mustering as much dignity as she could, in case those formidable eyes were peering out through the sheer drapes in the bay window, Kai pulled the dog back to the SUV.

  After he reluctantly clambered into the rear, she sagged into the driver’s seat, giving the house one last look. Then she took a deep breath and said, “I guess it’s just you and me now, Amigo.”

  She glanced up at the rearview mirror. The dog uttered a low moaning sound and slumped down on his forepaws.

  “Was that a groan? Don’t tell me that was a groan.” Kai snapped the seat belt around her. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe this whole scene.” She reversed, a tad quickly, out of the drive. Following the meandering streets out of the area, she considered her next move, realizing at the same time that her plans for the rest of the day were now in serious need of amendment.

  She checked on the dog one last time before heading for Brooklyn. Amigo was already asleep, completely oblivious to his narrow escape from the pound.

  How the heck did I end up with a dog?

  * * *

  IT WAS THE slam of a door that grabbed his attention, dragging him from the apathy that his therapist warned could become his “new normal.” Luca had grimaced at the phrase. Not that he would mind being normal. Growing up as an only child in a family that demanded exceptionality had instilled a strong urge in his adolescence to be, simply, average. Any normal would be new to him.

  He stretched his neck, just making out through the bare branches of the oak tree next to his bedroom window the rooftop of a black SUV reversing out of the drive. Something about the way the vehicle swerved as it gained momentum made him wonder about the driver’s mood. His mother had been doing guard duty since his arrival home from the hospital a week ago. And there was no more diligent sentry, he knew, than Isabel Rossi. Though to be fair, he himself had mumbled through his post-anesthetic haze that he wanted no visitors. None at all, he’d had to repeat. Meaning no bridge or tennis club friends of his mother’s. And no family, either. Especially the legion of cousins, aunts and uncles who’d been phoning nonstop since they’d heard he was home.

  The effort of leaning forward exhausted him. He lay back against the pillows and closed his eyes, waiting for the dizziness to subside. His doctor had told him it would take a few weeks before he felt like his “old self,” but Luca guessed he’d never see that old self again. One of many thoughts that kept rolling around in his brain the past few weeks was that maybe losing his old self wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Lately he’d been asking himself if he even wanted that Luca Rossi back. He hated to let down his friends—both in the military and out—along with family members who not only expected that former self back but encouraged its return. Yet if he wanted to be whole again—and he knew in his heart that he did—he would have to nurture this new self. That was at the top of the list of things to do. His goals, the therapist had explained.

  There was a light tap on his bedroom door before it swung gently open. Luca kept his eyes shut, hoping either his mother or Becky would think he was asleep.

  “Luca?” came the faintest of whispers.

  Of all the luck. Becky.

  “Luca?”

  There was no point. Persistence was her second name.

  “Hmm?” He opened his eyes.

  “Can I get you anything?”

  An hour ago she’d posed the same question. “No, thanks. But I appreciate the support you’re giving my mother, Becky.”

  “It’s the least I can do.” She shrugged.

  “But I’m sure you must have work things to get back to,” he began, irritated by the shrug. He knew very well that his mother hadn’t asked for help, and Becky was the last person he himself would have contacted. “We won’t mind if you need to return to your other life.”

  She frowned.

  “I mean your life outside playing nursemaid,” he quipped.

  The frown deepened. “Are you telling me you don’t want me around anymore?”

  Luca closed his eyes. Right-to-the-point Becky. Her other middle name. Now or never, he told himself. Her presence has been bugging you for a week now, so get to it. Finish what you started.

  “I hope my message wasn’t quite so blunt,” he said.

  “But still.”

  “I think it might be best for both of us if we went back to where we were before.”

  “Before you got injured? You mean last summer?”

  “Yeah.” He was surprised at the huskiness in his voice. Perhaps some part of him hadn’t recovered from their breakup after all.

  Becky pursed her lips. “I thought maybe we could—you know—start over again. Put all of that behind us.”

  It was tempting, he thought, looking at her blond, slender beauty. Remembering how she’d been able to drive him mad with her smile. Until last July, when he learned she’d been seeing his best friend behind his back. He felt that small hardness inside again.

  “What’s done is done, Becky. I think it’s best if we both moved on.”

  She flushed. “Have it your way,” she said. She turned and walked out the door.

  Luca waited for the adrenaline surge to ease, followed by a wave of relief. The first step, Rossi, in finding your new self.

  * * *

  KAI WAS EXHAUSTED by the time she finally got her shower, poured a glass of wine and sat down to her mail. She glanced across her small living room to see the dog snoozing contentedly on the area rug beneath the glass coffee table. They’d both been through a lot in the past forty-eight hours, and Kai was hard-pressed to decide which of them had handled the stress better. She refused to believe dogs—especially this particular mongrel—were intuitive. Yet there had been times, particularly in the hours since leaving the Rossi home, when Kai was certain from Amigo’s mournful stare that she’d been judged and found wanting.

  Moving slowly through rush hour traffic, she’d had the opportunity to make some plans for Amigo. Step one would be to try to contact Corporal McDougall, though she hated to admit her failure to deliver the dog. Step two could be her contact at the American Embassy in Kuwait City; she was tempted to let him handle the problem, but their light flirtation was now one of those embarrassing life moments that people strive to put behind them. Definitely not for resurrection, she decided. Step three was to search out an animal shelter here in the city. Perhaps the best option, she figured, if she could be reassured that a good foster home would be found.

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING, all Kai’s plans were put on hold. The phone woke her before the dog had a chance to.

 
“Mom? Is everything okay? I called you when I got in late yesterday. Did you get my voice mail?”

  “Yes, dear, but not until after midnight. I thought best to wait till this morning.”

  Kai gripped her cell phone. “What’s happened?”

  “It’s your father. He’s had a stroke, but he’s going to be okay. The doctor here says it’s a warning, though.”

  “Tell me what happened.” And while her mother recounted the events of the past twenty-four hours, Kai sensed her life was not going to be normal for quite some time.

  “How’s Thomas taking it?” she asked when her mother stopped to take a deep breath.

  “I really can’t say. Janet’s looking after him for now, but she has to go back to work the day after tomorrow, so...”

  Kai closed her eyes, knowing what her mother wanted to say. “I’ll come as soon as I can get a rental car,” she said.

  There was a short silence followed by a whisper of a sigh. “Thanks, dear. I was hoping you’d be able to.”

  “Bye, Mom. Give Dad and Thomas a kiss for me. I’ll call you as soon as I hit town.”

  “Bye, dear. Drive carefully.”

  Kai switched off her phone and immediately burst into tears. Her father, only in his early seventies, had always been so robust. Much too healthy for strokes or any other life-threatening conditions.

  I’m not ready for this, was her next thought, followed at once by guilt for being so self-centered. Her small family had endured so much in the past three years and now this, just when everyone had begun to accept the past and move forward. Everyone except Thomas, of course. What would this latest setback do for his recovery?

  She reached for a tissue on the bedside table and noticed the dog, sitting expectantly at the foot of her bed. His head was cocked, his expression curious.

  “I guess it’s you and me again, partner,” she said, sniffling. “Must be our destiny. No point in fighting it.” She threw back the duvet and got out of bed. Suddenly the day had taken on a whole other purpose.

  CHAPTER ONE

  One month later...

  THE KITCHEN WAS EMPTY. Kai sighed, hoping this wasn’t going to be one of those difficult days with Thomas refusing to go to school. To complicate matters, she was due at the hospital in Lima to drive her parents back to the farm. Her mother had been staying with her friend, Janet, in town while her father recovered from his stroke. Perhaps that was it. Thomas wanted to be around when his grandpa came home.

  “Thomas?” she called up the stairs. No response.

  Last night, she’d thought of asking him if he wanted to go to the hospital with her, but decided she’d be enabling his reluctance to attend school. She suspected a bullying problem, though he hadn’t complained. Of course, Thomas didn’t complain about anything. That would involve talking, and he hadn’t spoken a word to anyone in a year. Not since his father died.

  Kai knew there was no point in delving into that painful memory. Too much to do right here in the now. That’s what had kept her going since her arrival at the farm, believing that eventually she’d be able to recover her former life—the one before her dad’s stroke and her return to Lima. Heck, even the one before that dog.

  “Thomas? It’s getting late.” She went back through the kitchen and out onto the porch. Just past the shed and between the barn and the veggie garden stood Thomas, in his dark green rain jacket, with the dog.

  The day she’d arrived at the farm, after picking Thomas up at Janet’s house, both dog and boy had been wary of each other. Thomas had clearly been interested in the animal, constantly looking at him through the crate. Amigo, not so much. His frequent sidelong glances at Thomas had been fearful, as if he were expecting a thrown stone or a cuff on the head. It had taken Kai several minutes and lots of treats to coax Amigo out of his crate once they’d reached the farm. After gobbling up his reward, he’d slunk off to a corner of the garage and lain down, accepting whatever fate had in store for him.

  Kai had wished she could speak dog language to reassure the pitiful animal, but knew eventually he would feel, look and act like a happy dog. That was her hope. If things didn’t turn out that way, she’d have to come up with another game plan for Amigo. One she already knew she’d have trouble implementing.

  Hard to believe it had been only four weeks since she’d driven to Brooklyn from Newark, her most pressing worry the dog dozing in the back seat. And it was especially ironic that the answer to the question of what to do with the dog had been revealed only the next day, after her mother’s phone call. Take him with you. As if she’d had any choice. Dropping him off at the pound—as that woman at Captain Rossi’s house had advised—had never been an option. She knew all too well that grown animals that weren’t considered “cute” often weren’t adopted. And cute just didn’t cut it for Amigo.

  But that was weeks ago. The changes—physical and otherwise—were remarkable. Amigo had transformed into a regular mutt, and he and Thomas had become a team. Right now, the two seemed to be having a conversation: Thomas, gesturing with a stick in his right hand, first to the garden and then to the ground at his feet; the dog, staring up at him. It was difficult to tell if any part of Thomas’s message was getting through, judging by Amigo’s cocked head.

  Thomas raised his arm and threw the stick. The dog’s head swiveled, following the stick’s arc into the garden plot. He looked back at Thomas, who thrust his right arm into the air, pointing to where the stick had landed. Kai held her breath, and before she’d counted to ten, the dog rose and ran after it. Well, perhaps “sauntered” was more appropriate. When Amigo reached the stick, he sniffed it a bit before walking back to Thomas, mouth empty.

  “Thomas,” she called. “It’s almost time to head up to the road.” He turned her way but didn’t move. She knew he wasn’t the kind of kid to instantly react to such reminders, so she waited just long enough to see him reluctantly head toward the kitchen door before she went inside.

  She sipped her coffee while Thomas ate his cereal and thought perhaps she ought to change her mind about taking him with her to the hospital. She knew he’d been missing his grandparents and his mood this morning might not be just about going to school. When he slurped up the last of the milk in his bowl, she said, “Would you like to take a day off school and come with me to pick up Grandpa and Grandma?”

  He just nodded, but she’d seen the instant spark in his eyes. “Okay, I’ll walk up the road and tell the bus driver while you go make your bed.”

  The early-morning rain had already vanished, and the sun was breaking through the cloud cover by the time she’d walked out to the main road and back, her sweatshirt sticking to her. Thomas was waiting patiently on the stoop leading from the kitchen. Kai’s father’s old Buick was parked in front of the two-car garage adjacent to the farmhouse. Just as she was opening the driver’s door, Kai noticed Amigo lurking near the garden. There’d been recent evidence of a groundhog, and the dog must have caught its scent.

  “Um, maybe we better put Amigo in the garage while we’re gone. I don’t think he’ll wander off, but I can’t be sure.”

  Thomas’s face revealed his displeasure at this, but he beckoned to Amigo, who was watching them from his sentry point in the garden. Kai marveled again at how the boy seemed able to communicate with the dog without uttering a word. It was almost as if the two could read each other’s minds. Amigo trotted over to them and followed Thomas into the garage. From the drooping tail, Kai guessed he was as unhappy at this development as Thomas.

  She revved the engine, made a creaking turn and drove down the gravel lane toward the highway leading to town. Rolling down the window to let in some fresh air, she was struck again by the huge silence of the countryside—except for the crunch of tires and the ominous tick-ticking of the engine.

  Silence. She’d lived with it for a month now and found it oppressi
ve. There were days when she wanted to shake Thomas and cry, “Just speak to me. Say anything. One word. Please.” But there was no point. He’d come around in his own time. Or so the psychologist who’d been treating him since David’s death claimed. Elective mutism, he’d called it. A way of controlling something in a world that seemed out of control to an eight-year-old who’d endured the loss of his mother when he was five and then the trauma of his father’s death two years later.

  “Don’t push him,” was the constant phrase and Kai was almost sick of hearing it. She couldn’t help thinking that maybe Thomas needed a push. But then she’d look at his small, pale face, so like her brother’s at the same age, and the pain of all that the family had suffered these past three years would fill her up again, followed by the inevitable guilt. She’d been gallivanting all over the world while her aging parents had lived with that pain and the tangible symbol of it—Thomas’s silence—staring them in the face each moment of every day.

  * * *

  MARGARET PLACED THE folded pajamas into her husband’s duffel, set the toiletry bag on top and paused briefly to stare down at the slippers on his feet. They’d be all right for the ride home. Besides, she hadn’t bothered bringing his shoes to the hospital. He’d only begun walking again—if one could call the shuffling gait that—in the past few days. She zipped up the bag and smiled at Harry.

  “Well, this is it. The day we’ve been waiting for.”

  He looked up at her and mumbled a garbled reply that kept her guessing for a few seconds. She couldn’t blame him for feeling negative. His stroke was not only unexpected but grossly unfair, especially considering the cycle of bad luck the family had endured for the past three years. And she couldn’t help but see the dark humor in her current situation. One at home who wouldn’t talk and now another who couldn’t.

  There’d been times the last four weeks when she’d just wanted to curl up in bed and stay there. Let someone else take charge. Although she’d been grateful and relieved to have Kai come home, she knew her daughter well enough to realize that her presence was temporary. In fact, she was waiting for Kai to announce that she’d soon be returning to New York. As Harry used to say of his daughter, “Dust doesn’t get a chance to settle on her.”