The array of brightly colored flowers surrounding the base of a tree captured my attention, and, seeking a distraction, I took a shot with my phone. I took another picture of the front of Bean There, too. I was far more comfortable behind the lens of a camera than I ever was standing before a pitcher in a major league game.
I considered coming back later with something more professional than my phone and taking additional photos of Willa’s shop. I could enlarge one and frame it for her.
While I was staring at the shop, I noticed a stray dog. I’d caught sight of him several times over the last few weeks. He was excessively thin, to the point that his ribs were showing. He lingered near the entrance to Willa’s place of business. I imagined the mutt smelled the baked goods she used to lure in customers and suspected she might have fed him a time or two.
Sure enough, the minute the door opened the stray was ready. A middle-aged woman I didn’t recognize walked out with coffee in one hand and a white sack in the other. As if this was exactly what he’d been waiting for, the dog sprang forward. He grabbed hold of the sack and raced off.
The woman screeched, but it didn’t help. Her goodies had been ripped from her hand and the dog had made it look easy.
The stray was a blur as he raced toward the beach. Usually I saw him hanging around the local pizza parlor. How he’d managed to avoid getting taken to the Humane Society before now was proof of his craftiness. This dog was street-savvy. I had to admire his ingenuity.
Dogs were my weakness—well, other than baristas, and Willa Lakey in particular. If my career didn’t involve as much travel as it did, I would gladly have taken a dog as a pet. My life was solitary. If I wasn’t taking photos, I was spending time in front of my computer, editing my work. I would have enjoyed a canine companion.
After watching the dog’s quick moves, I felt the least I could do was see about making sure this fella found a good home. One thing was for sure, I’d need to be as cagey as he was, and that required a bit of help. Thankfully, I knew the best place to find it.
I dumped my nearly untouched Americano into the garbage and jogged over to the beach. I found evidence of what was left of the stolen breakfast. The white sack was tattered and torn, and there wasn’t a crumb left of its contents. I picked up the bag and tossed it. Glancing up and down the beach, I thought I caught a movement and saw him take off in the direction of the pizza parlor.
Getting back into my car, I drove past the back entrance of the pizza place and saw nothing. From there I went to the animal shelter. I knew Preston Young and his wife, Mellie, were big animal lovers. Mellie helped nurse sick and injured cats and dogs back to health, and Preston made sure they went to good homes.
I walked inside the shelter to a cacophony of barks and other noise. Preston was great about getting volunteers to come in and care for the animals. He had an entire crew that walked the dogs and saw that they all received an ample amount of tender loving care. He glanced up when I entered the building and greeted me with a mildly curious look. From the moment we’d met, Preston had been after me to adopt a pet.
“Hey, Sean, good to see you.”
I nodded. “You, too. I got a stray for you.”
“With you?”
“Nope. This dog is smart. I’ve seen him around town a few times. Watched him snatch a woman’s breakfast right out of her hand this morning.”
“Brown, long hair, medium size, and on the thin side?”
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed the stray. “You talking about the dog or the woman?” I joked.
“Funny.” Preston had a quirky sense of humor. “The dog.
“I’ve been hearing about him,” Preston continued, grinning. “Keaton had a run-in with him last week.” His smile grew bigger. “The stray got one of his sandwiches right out of his lunch box. Clever, too. He managed to figure out how to open his container. He left the peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich for Keaton and took the homemade meatloaf sandwich that Annie made him. Keaton was madder than a hornet.”
I couldn’t keep from smiling myself. This was one smart dog. “I saw him around the back of the pizza parlor and think that might be where he’s holed up. There’s a spot behind the dumpster that would be a perfect hiding place.”
“I’ll check it out.”
“You want company?”
“Wouldn’t hurt. I’ll give you a call later when I’m ready to head over.”
“Do that.”
Preston held his look. “A dog that smart could use a good home, you know. Seeing that you’ve taken an interest in him, you might consider keeping him for yourself. It’s clear he doesn’t belong to anyone. Mellie can check him out for you and make sure he’s healthy.”
I was sorely tempted and sadly shook my head. “I’m waiting on an assignment. Wouldn’t be fair to give him a home and then abandon him for a few weeks.”
“Last I heard you were waiting for an assignment and that was over a month ago. How much longer do you have to wait?”
“Don’t know. I’ve taken a few smaller jobs that require a bit of travel, but I can drive to those.”
“Take him with you.”
I rubbed the side of my face, considering it. “On second thought, maybe I could take him in.” The dog reminded me a bit of myself, not that I’d ever been homeless. When my baseball career ended, I’d been at a loss about what to do with the rest of my life. I floundered for a bit, paralyzed about facing a future that didn’t include baseball. I’d lived and breathed the sport from the time I was five years old and started playing T-ball with my dad as my coach. Briefly, I considered taking a position as a high school coach, but that meant returning to college. The appeal wasn’t there.
“First let’s see if we can catch him,” I said, forcefully turning my thoughts away from what I’d lost. If and when we managed to capture the dog, I would make that decision.
“Sounds good. I’ll give you a call later this afternoon.”
“I’ll wait to hear from you.”
I left shortly thereafter and returned to the house. The more I thought about bringing home the stray, the stronger the appeal grew. When I did travel, and there were times when I was away three to four weeks at a stretch, I’d need to figure out what to do with him. Before I could leave, I’d need to make sure the dog understood that this was his home and he belonged to me. That might not be an easy task, especially since it was clear he’d been on his own for a good long while.
Once home I was curious to see if National Geographic had sent word about two possible assignments, one in Bolivia and another in the Philippines. I went to my computer to check my email. Quickly scanning my inbox, I saw there was nothing of interest. I would be a good choice for the Bolivia assignment because I spoke fluent Spanish. When my mother returned to work as an attorney, she’d hired a housekeeper from Mexico, and I’d picked up the language at an early age. Later, I’d majored in Spanish in college, although my real interest was baseball. It’d always been any- and everything having to do with baseball.
The only assignment I had on the books was from Seattle Magazine, asking me to photograph the murals of Washington State. I’d already gone to several towns in close proximity and had literally thousands of shots. There was a town in eastern Washington called Toppenish I wanted to hit that was known for its murals. Once I made the decision about the dog, I’d make the trip across the Cascade Mountains to the other side of the state.
After reading through my emails, I made myself lunch and was about to look through the photos I’d taken earlier when my phone buzzed. Checking the number, I saw that it was Preston.
“You ready to head out?” I hadn’t expected to hear from him this soon.
“No need.”
“What do you mean?” For some reason an irrational fear came over me and I was afraid Preston was about to tell me the stray had be
en hit by a car. I’d witnessed a near accident with him the first time I’d seen him, and it’d sent my heart racing.
“Keaton got him.”
“You mean you have him?”
“Yup. He’s at the shelter. Mellie is checking him over as we speak.”
“How’d Keaton catch him?” This had to be good. Keaton was a big guy, and while he was agile, I didn’t think he was able to move as quickly as this dog could.
Preston chuckled. “I told him what you’d said about the dog hiding behind the dumpster, so he went over there, set out his lunch, and turned his back. Sure enough, the dog couldn’t resist. He might not be as smart as we think, because he assumed Keaton was foolish enough to be tricked a second time.”
I laughed. Leave it to Keaton. The guy was the size of a giant, and smart besides.
“So, the question is,” Preston continued, “do you want him or not?”
It didn’t take me long to decide. “I’ll take him.”
It looked like I was going to get a dog after all.
CHAPTER 4
Willa
Lucas sent a text letting me know he and Chantelle planned to arrive early Friday evening. Once I was home from work, I took a nap so I wouldn’t fall asleep over dinner. Having our brother visit was a treat.
Harper was as excited as I was at the chance to see Lucas. Having Chantelle join him was a bonus. The minute his car pulled in front of our apartment we both flew out the door like the place was in danger of exploding.
Lucas caught Harper in his arms, the impact causing him to take a step in retreat. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he whirled her around and around. Being a bit more subdued, I hugged Chantelle.
“Are you staying the whole weekend?” Harper asked. “You must, you really must! It’s been forever since we last saw you.”
Harper and I were in Seattle every six months for her routine blood work. The doctors had insisted on keeping a close eye on her. Thus far, the test results showed that the cancer hadn’t returned. We held on to the hope future tests would continue to show she was in remission. When we were in Seattle, Lucas loved to treat us. Last January he’d taken us to the 5th Avenue Theatre for the off-Broadway production of Come from Away and then dinner afterward. On Harper’s last birthday, he’d splurged on an amazing lunch at the Space Needle.
With his arms around both of us, he answered, “Chantelle and I leave tomorrow afternoon.”
“So soon?” Harper pouted, jutting out her lower lip. When Lucas did visit, he never stayed long. I suspected it had a lot to do with the memories of the home we’d all once shared that was forever lost to us.
“I’ll be back later in the summer,” our brother promised, and kissed the side of Harper’s head.
“With Chantelle?” I urged, casting a glance toward the woman I hoped would be my future sister-in-law.
Lucas looked toward his girlfriend as if to gauge her response before he nodded. “With Chantelle.”
Harper hugged them both again. Then I did, too. Everything felt right when Lucas visited. It was as if the responsibility I carried shifted from my shoulders when my big brother was around.
With our arms around them both, we walked back to the apartment. I had homemade snickerdoodles and lemonade waiting, knowing that after the long drive they’d both be thirsty and hungry. Sitting around the kitchen table, we caught up with one another as if it’d been years since we’d last talked. It was like this with the three of us. We chatted nonstop, pausing now and again to laugh. Chantelle joined in the fun and updated us on her summer plans.
“Did you know Willa’s got an admirer?” Harper said, jiggling her eyebrows like this was highly valuable information.
“I don’t,” I insisted, blushing. “She’s making this up.”
“Am not,” she returned, waving a cookie at me. “Sean comes into Bean There every day. You should see the way he looks at her. He’s cute, too. I’d go for him myself if I thought I had a chance.”
“Harper,” I snapped, hating the way she went on about Sean and me. Nothing was there, although I secretly hoped that might change.
Lucas grabbed another cookie off the plate. “You two sound like you’re in junior high.”
“His name is Sean, spelled like Sean Connery,” Harper continued, all too willing to fluster me. “Come on, Willa, admit it. He’s delicious-looking.”
“Delicious?” I repeated and rolled my eyes. “You make him sound like one of my cinnamon rolls.”
“He frequently orders those, too.”
“Will you please stop?” I all but begged. This was highly embarrassing.
Kindly, Lucas took pity on me. He checked his wrist and announced, “Chantelle made us dinner reservations at the casino. I thought it would be good for Dad to join us.”
“Great idea.” Lucas was thoughtful like that. He wanted to make the most of his visit, and I was happy he’d wanted to include our father. My one worry was that Dad might be drinking. If that was the case, it would put a pall over the evening.
“He’s working tonight but was able to schedule his dinner break at the same time as our reservation.”
Chantelle was a natural organizer, and it made sense that Lucas would ask her to make the arrangements. We had discussed restaurants earlier, but this worked out much better.
“I thought tomorrow we could all visit Mom’s grave.”
“I’d like that,” Harper said, setting the cookie back on the plate. As the baby of the family, Harper lost Mom before she’d even had a chance to really know her the way Lucas and I did.
We made a point of taking flowers to Mom’s grave site whenever Lucas was in town. Our mother might be gone, but she remained a large part of our lives. We missed her. I hoped that our father might join us this time. For whatever reason, he rarely did, always coming up with a convenient excuse.
“Now, what’s this I hear,” Lucas said, looking pointedly across the table at Harper. “A little birdie told me you plan on climbing Mount Rainier this summer.”
My sister’s eyes rounded, and she glanced at me. “You told him?”
“I might have mentioned it.” I shrugged, hiding how concerned I was over our sister’s plan. Climbing 14,411 feet was no small endeavor. Only those in top physical and mental condition would have what it took to complete such a challenge.
For the next ten minutes Harper spoke nonstop about all she was doing to prepare for the adventure. She mentioned the equipment she would be using, the team she was working with, and the friends she’d made in the process, including a young physician, John Neal, who currently worked at the University of Washington Medical Center, the very place she’d spent so much time while dealing with leukemia. Just the way she said his name told me he had caught Harper’s eye. Whenever she mentioned him, Harper became animated. It appeared the two had become training partners. My hope was that her interest in this physician would last longer than it had with other men. This climb was important to Harper, but I had to wonder if the challenge was as key as her budding romance with this young man.
“Sounds great,” Lucas encouraged her.
Hearing her determination and seeing her enthusiasm, I felt guilty that I’d made a fuss. Lucas was right, I tended to worry about Harper more than I should. She was doing great. Seeing the way her face lit up when she spoke about this new goal of hers was all the convincing I needed.
Lucas’s gaze connected with mine.
“Did you hear I went bungee-jumping?” Harper continued. She took back the cookie she’d recently set down and bit into it, chewing appreciatively.
“What prompted that?” Chantelle grimaced, her entire upper body shaking as if to say bungee-jumping was the last thing she’d ever consider.
Harper leaned back in the chair and paused before responding. “I did it on a bet.”
“Someone
dared you?”
She shrugged. “Sort of.”
“But you’re afraid of heights,” Lucas reminded her.
“I know. I was scared out of my mind, but I did it!” She beamed with pride. “When I stood on that bridge and looked down, I nearly lost my nerve. I don’t think I’ve ever been more frightened in my life.”
“You jumped off a bridge?” Lucas asked, as if he could hardly take it in. This from the man who leaped out of airplanes!
“Yup! Crazy, huh?”
“You won’t get an argument out of me.” Chantelle placed her hand over her heart. “You’re a lot braver than me.”
“No worries, I don’t plan on doing it again. This was a once-in-a-lifetime thing. I survived to tell about it.”
“Thank goodness,” I chimed in. “If I’d known what you planned that day, I wouldn’t have let you leave the house.”
“You’re such a mother,” Harper teased.
What she said was true. It was the role I’d been cast into after Mom died. My teen years were lost to me. All three of us had to grow up quickly; we’d had no choice. I’d filled in for our mother, Lucas had enlisted in the Army, and Harper, although the most protected of us three, had faced leukemia. The only one to stumble had been our father.
Chantelle checked the time. “We should leave now, or we’ll be late for dinner.”
We stood, eager to be on our way. Lucas grabbed the last two cookies and shoved them into his jacket pocket. Snickerdoodles were his favorite.
“Lucas,” Chantelle warned, “you’re going to ruin your dinner.”
Harper looked at me. “She already sounds like a wife, doesn’t she?”
Lucas sent a warning look our way, but it didn’t faze Harper. Looping her arm through Chantelle’s, she added, “I thought our brother was smart enough to know a good thing when he saw it. Apparently, I was wrong.”
A Walk Along the Beach Page 3