by Tracy Weber
I stopped walking and gripped Dharma’s forearm. “You can’t think that way. We don’t control other people’s actions. We are simply not that powerful.”
Dharma stared at the ground in silence.
I wanted to say more, but I didn’t know how. I had told my story once, but not to anyone who mattered. My counselor, after all, was paid to listen. Should I continue? Could I continue?
I kneeled next to Bella and gave her fur several long strokes. She nibbled my chin in return. Her deep brown eyes stared at me, clearly making a promise: I will love you forever. No matter what.
I believed her. Bella was family. So was Dharma, for that matter. Why did I expect so much less of her?
I kissed Bella’s cool black nose and swallowed to clear the tightness from my throat. “For the past six months, I’ve tortured myself. I thought I caused someone’s suicide. The police say his death was an accident; I think he jumped. We’ll never know for sure.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Me too, and it’s been tearing me up inside. I pummeled myself with the ‘maybes.’ Maybe if I’d stayed out of the investigation. Maybe if I’d listened more carefully to his words. Maybe if I’d held onto his arm … ” My voice caught. “Maybe I could have stopped him.”
I paused for several long seconds. Bella leaned into me, as if offering me strength.
I took a deep breath and said the words I was finally beginning to believe. “And maybe I’d have ended up dead at the bottom of that cliff next to him.”
I looked up and met Dharma’s eyes. “I always knew that I didn’t physically shove him off the cliff, but I’m beginning to realize that I didn’t push him over the edge mentally, either. Whether he fell, jumped, or was gathered by Satan and yanked to his own private hell, his actions made it happen. Not mine.”
I stood up again. “That’s what my counselor says, anyway.”
Dharma squeezed my hand and we started walking again. “Your father was right, you know.”
“How’s that?”
“You and I are a whole heck of a lot alike.”
A few moments later, we entered the parking garage. There weren’t any classes scheduled for the next hour, so we brought Bella with us to the studio’s back door. The sound of contented cooing filtered from the alcove above.
I groaned. “You have got to be kidding me.”
Mister Feathers was happily snuggled in his favorite roosting place on top of the chicken wire. A pile of wet bird waste had already begun to accumulate beneath him.
Dharma tried, unsuccessfully, to suppress a laugh. “Looks like you have a permanent guest after all.”
I smiled ruefully. “It’s okay. There’s a bright side. Somebody’s going to have to clean up his mess every few hours. I think I just found the perfect job for Tiffany.”
I inserted my key into the door. Something warm, wet, and gooey fell onto the back of my head.
I looked up at the happy bird.
“Seriously?”
Dharma reached into her pocket. “Pigeons are perfectly awful, you know.”
I took the tissue she handed me and wiped the bird gunk out of my hair. “Kind of like family, don’t you think?” I grinned to let her know I was kidding.
Dharma’s expression turned serious. The former stranger who was now my mother placed her hand on my arm. “I’m sorry.”
“For a little bird poop?”
She opened her mouth, then closed it again. Her arm slowly floated back to her side. “For all of our lost time.”
I waited a long time before answering, longer than was comfortable for either of us. But my words, when I spoke them, were true.
“It’s okay, Dharma. We’ll make up for it.”
We had a beginning, and that was enough.
the end
© Jason Meert
about the author
Tracy Weber is the author of the award-winning Downward Dog Mystery series. The first book, Murder Strikes a Pose, won the Maxwell Award for Fiction and was nominated for the Agatha Award for Best First Novel. Karma’s a Killer is her third novel.
A certified yoga therapist, Tracy is the owner of Whole Life Yoga, a Seattle yoga studio, as well as the creator and director of Whole Life Yoga’s teacher training program. She loves sharing her passion for yoga and animals in any way possible. Tracy and her husband, Marc, live in Seattle with their challenging yet amazing German shepherd, Tasha. When she’s not writing, Tracy spends her time teaching yoga, walking Tasha, and sipping Blackthorn cider at her favorite ale house.
For more information on Tracy and the Downward Dog Mysteries, visit her author website at TracyWeberAuthor.com.