by Allie Gail
Shaking my head, I finish the story while trying to control my giggles. “I took him down to the basement and told him that a long time ago, a mean old man was buried there ’cause he was too cheap to pay for a cemetery plot, and everyone called him Bloody Bones since there was nothing left of him but a bloody ribcage. And if you made enough noise to wake him, he’d come up out of the ground and stab you with his bones to make you quiet. So then I showed him this tombstone that was propped up against the wall. It was just a Halloween decoration we had stored down there, but he was stupid enough to believe it was an actual grave.”
“Let me guess. You ran off and shut him up down there,” Louise deduces with a chuckle.
“Close. I bet him my Game Boy that he wouldn’t stay in the basement all by himself just long enough to count to twenty. And then I ran off and shut him up down there. When he realized the door wouldn’t open, he was too scared to make any sound more than a whisper. He really thought Bloody Bones would rise up out of his grave and stick him with his ribs!” In retrospect, maybe I should be ashamed of myself for pulling that trick. But really, the kid was annoying as all hell. At the very least, couldn’t he at least have wiped his snotty nose?
“Did you get in trouble?” she wants to know.
“Oh, yeah.” I cut my eyes sideways at Dad. “The little crybaby told on me and then I had to give up my Game Boy for real.”
“Taught you a lesson, didn’t it?” he sagely points out. “Never bet anything you aren’t prepared to lose.”
“All it taught me was how much of a wuss Walter Fitzsimmons was!”
“I wouldn’t bet on that one. Last I heard, the boy was working in Panama City as a bouncer.”
“Well, I hope he finally learned how to blow his nose. Or that bar is gonna end up with some serious health code violations.”
“He probably learned well enough,” Louise surmises with a wink. “After all, you obviously learned to quit runnin’ from boys who want to kiss you.”
Ignoring my exaggerated sigh, Dad exchanges a sly grin with my stepmom. “Let’s just hope she doesn’t have to lock this one in a basement.”
Chapter Fourteen
Me and my bright ideas.
What was I thinking, volunteering to babysit this devil dog? Not sure how Leah came by his name, but Cerberus would’ve been more appropriate if you ask me. I had no idea what I was getting into when I unwittingly offered to take in the hound from hell.
Raking a hand through my hair, I shake my head in disbelief as I take inventory of the random objects that have materialized in the spare bathroom’s toilet. It’s a pretty impressive haul for such a small pup. One single-serving bag of Funyuns, a mismatched pair of socks, the tennis ball I gave him to play with, my checkbook (argh!) and about three yards of unrolled toilet paper that is still attached to the spindle. It looks like a bored toddler’s been given free rein in here.
I wondered why Charlie kept zooming back and forth down the hallway while I was in my office working. Stupid of me to assume that he was just playing. Now I realize he was searching for more loot to offer up to the septic gods.
Wagging his tail, he looks up at me with hopeful brown eyes, apparently proud of what he’s accomplished. I don’t have the heart to scold him. The frisky little sausage has no idea he’s done anything wrong.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” I reproach him, even as I bend down to scratch his head. What can I say, I’m a sucker for cute. Which probably explains how I ended up with a crapper stuffed full of goodies like the world’s most unsanitary Easter basket.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I straighten to check it. Talk about timing – it’s the queen of cute herself.
“Well, isn’t this fortuitous,” I greet her dryly. “You know, you might’ve warned me about your dog’s underlying kleptomania.”
There is a long pause before she breathes a sigh, finally comprehending. “Oh, shoot. He did it again, didn’t he?”
“If by ‘it’ you mean destroying my bathroom, then yes, he did ‘it’ all right.”
“I’m sorry. Guess I should’ve mentioned that he likes to put things in the potty.”
“Super. May I ask why? Was he a plumber in his former life?”
“How should I know? Maybe he likes to play in the water. Just keep the lid down and he won’t do it anymore.”
“Now you tell me.”
“Uh-oh. What did he put in there this time?”
“Nothing too important,” I lie, fishing out my dripping checkbook.
“Oh. Good.” She sounds distracted. I can hear muffled voices in the background, and something that sounds like the ding of elevator doors opening.
“Everything okay?”
“Um…I’m not sure. I mean, I don’t know yet.”
The checkbook falls back into the toilet. “What’s wrong?”
“We’re at the hospital. Melanie’s gone into labor.”
“Oh. Is that bad?”
“Well, she wasn’t due for another three weeks. So…I don’t know. It could be.”
“What has the doctor said?”
“We haven’t seen him yet. He’s in the delivery room with her and Shane right now. This baby’s coming fast. I don’t even know what happened – we were just getting ready to go see the fireflies at Elkmont when all of a sudden, out of the blue, her water broke. And then she started having contractions on the way to the hospital, which was not good because, wouldn’t you know, some eighteen-wheeler got stuck trying to do an illegal U-turn and of course the idiot was blocking traffic. I was freaking – I thought she was about to spew that baby out right there in the car!”
Did she just say spew? “Gee, you make it all sound so glamorous.”
“Excuse me, would you want to be stuck in traffic with a woman in labor? I don’t know how to deliver a baby! Do you?”
“Didn’t you say your brother was a veterinarian?”
“Yeah. Um…in case I forgot to mention it before, Melanie is a human. Not a gerbil.”
“If he’s a vet, then he’s had medical training. Let me ask you this – did your sister-in-law have a healthy pregnancy? No complications?”
“As far as I know, everything was perfectly normal.”
“Then chances are, everything’s just fine. Three weeks isn’t so much, you know. If I’m not mistaken, the baby would still be considered full term. And you know, they could’ve been off about the due date. I showed up two weeks early myself.”
“You did? Really?” Her relief quickly turns to skepticism. “Wait a minute. Are you making this up? You’re gargantuan. There’s no way!”
“Hand to God.”
“Seriously? You came two weeks early?”
“Well…twelve days, I think it was. But, still. I was eight pounds already.”
“So you don’t think I should worry?”
“I can’t tell you not to do that. But personally, I wouldn’t. I’m sure everything’s okay. Where are your parents? Are they there?”
“They went down to the gift shop to get one of those teddy bear wreaths to hang on her door.”
“See? Doesn’t sound like they’re anticipating any problems.”
“Well, they’re concerned of course, but…I don’t know. I just wasn’t sure if it was dangerous to go into labor at eight months. I don’t know anything about this kind of stuff. But you think it’s probably okay?”
“I think if that baby’s coming as fast as you say, you won’t have long to wait.”
“That’s true.” Mollified for the time being, she reverts back to the original topic. “So. Other than trashing your bathroom, has Charlie been behaving himself?”
“He hasn’t mugged any little old ladies for their social security checks, if that makes you feel any better. The night’s still young, though.”
“He’s usually really good, I swear. I bet he misses me. He likes to cuddle up with me every night and watch TV before we go to bed. Do you have Netflix? Put on Garfield and Friends. He li
kes that.”
As usual, I can’t tell if she’s being serious or not. Sometimes I think she says these things just to fuck with my mind. “Let me get this straight. Your dog likes watching a show about a cat? Isn’t that a conflict of interest?”
“He probably doesn’t know it’s a cat. I don’t know why he likes it, he just does. Do me a favor, put the phone to his ear. I want to talk to him.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No. Just for a minute. I want to tell him goodnight.”
“Oh, for the love of…okay, hang on. Here he is.” Feeling very silly, I crouch down and hold the cell phone close to one of the dog’s floppy ears. Though I can’t make out the words, I can hear Leah’s voice crooning what sounds like baby talk. Interestingly, Charlie stops panting and cocks his head to one side as if he’s actually listening.
I can’t help but wonder if people at the hospital are looking at her like she’s crazy.
They wouldn’t be wrong.
Bringing the phone back to my ear, I sigh, “Are you done?”
“Yes. Did he hear me? What did he do? Did he wag his tail?”
“I’m pretty sure he heard you. And yes, he was wagging his tail.”
“Did he – oh! There’s the doctor, gotta go!”
And then, without any further explanation, she’s gone. Off like a streak of lightning to pounce on the unsuspecting obstetrician in her sights. Poor guy’s probably being bombarded with rapid-fire questions from the little live wire right about now.
I hope the baby’s okay.
Fortunately I don’t have long to wonder. Five minutes later, while I’m ineffectively trying to dry out my checkbook with an oscillating fan, I receive a text message: Baby and mommy are fine! Going in to see them now.
Well, that’s certainly good news. I send a reply, even though I’m not sure if she’ll get it right away. The hospital might require her to turn off her cell phone before going in. Congrats! Are you an aunt or an uncle?
Her immediate response: Uncle! Lol!
I look over at Charlie, who is busy wriggling on his back with all four paws stuck up in the air. “Serves you right. When this kid starts walking, he’s gonna come for a visit and terrorize you. Just wait. I hope he turns out to be Dennis the Menace.”
Unconcerned, he continues happily rolling back and forth.
“Don’t suppose you happen to have a hairdryer anywhere on you.” Holding the checkbook in front of the fan’s breeze, I try to peel apart the wet pages. “Wonder what would happen if I stuck it in the microwave?”
I know it sounds nutty, but I am sure that dog understands every word I’m saying. Flopping over on his side, he huffs a petulant woof before scrambling to his feet and zipping his way to the other end of the house.
I take it he doesn’t think it’s such a good idea.
And speaking of ideas, something just occurred to me. I need to figure out what to get Leah for her birthday. Not that she’ll be expecting anything, but if I want to make a good impression it’s imperative that I show her I was thinking about her, at least.
Only I have no idea what to get her.
What would appeal to someone like Leah?
On a whim, I whip out my phone and call my younger brother, Quinn. He’s always been good for advice.
“’Sup, man.” From the sound of it, he’s in his patrol car. I can hear the radio in the background.
“Quick. First thing that comes to mind. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever seen?”
If I thought I was going to get a snappy solution, I was mistaken. There is a long pause, followed by a nonplussed, “What?”
“Come on now, don’t act like you didn’t hear me. Let’s have it. Weirdest thing ever. Go.”
“How about this question? Does that count?”
“No! That’s not what I mean. Help me out here. I need something really crazy. Think. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever seen?”
“Oh. Okay. Well…couple of weeks ago I went to serve a warrant on this guy and his girlfriend lets us in and tells us he’s in the bedroom, right? So we go on back and there he is, now he’s gotta weigh at least four hundred pounds so picture it, right? Dude doesn’t have a stitch on, and he’s got his dick stuck in a watermelon, just going to town–”
“Quinn!” I interrupt him. “I said weird. Not utterly fucking gross.”
“Hey, I don’t know what you want from me. You just said weird. You didn’t give me any specifics or anything.”
“How about something that’s not gonna make me throw up in my mouth! Just…I don’t know. Something you’ve seen that was unusual. Something oddball. Know what I mean?”
“Not really!”
“At least try! Think about it. Most bizarre thing you ever saw. Something that was way out in left field.”
“Okay, okay. Something weird, huh?”
“Exactly.”
“Oh, I know. I got one. Salad Fingers.”
“What? What’s a salad finger?”
“It’s on YouTube. Check it out.”
“It’s nothing dirty, is it?”
“No, it’s not dirty! It’s this creepy green cartoon guy and he’s…I don’t even know how to explain it. You’ll just have to see it for yourself. Picture a bad acid trip. It’s freaky but kinda funny.”
“Cool, sounds perfect. I’ll check it out. Thanks.”
“Wait – what is this, random question day? Why are you asking me this?”
“Because I have to get a birthday present for a girl.”
He hesitates, clearly not understanding. “So you want to…I don’t know, piss her off?”
“No, man. You don’t understand. This girl is…different.”
“Oh-h. I see.”
“No! Not like that. What I mean is–”
“Say no more. I get it. Just answer me one thing.”
“Yeah?”
“Do I get to be best man at your wedding?”
Dammit. I knew I should’ve just settled for a gift card.
Chapter Fifteen
For a small-town hospital, the place is bustling with activity. There are at least four other people browsing in the gift shop, not to mention two who are standing at the counter waiting to be checked out by the elderly volunteer. At least, I’m assuming she’s a volunteer. She’s wearing one of those pink smocks and has a name tag pinned to the front, but I’m not close enough to read what it says.
Scanning the selection of decorative jars containing various candies, I find just what I’m looking for – plain M&M’s. I know for a fact that Melanie prefers those. The ones I choose are baby blue and have stuff printed on them like little rocking horses and teddy bears along with It’s a Boy! Not that it’s a surprise or anything. They’ve known for months that it was going to be a boy.
There is only one customer at the register by the time I get in line to make my purchase. I can see the volunteer’s name tag now. Hazel. Wow, I thought they retired that name back in the twenties. Then again, with her poof of white hair and wrinkled, grandmotherly smile, she does appear to be just shy of the century mark.
Judging by the man in front of me, she isn’t moving with all the efficiency of a spring chicken, either. The idiot is expressing his impatience by rudely drumming his fingers on the counter and periodically heaving a noisy sigh. Wonder what his hurry is? All he’s buying is a two-dollar greeting card, the cheapskate, and he’s paying with a debit card so it’s his own damn fault it’s taking longer. I want to ask him where the fire is.
Practically snatching the bag out of the poor woman’s hand without so much as a thanks, Mr. Too-Important-For-You whirls around and almost plows into me in his haste to leave. Oddly enough, the scowl on his face vanishes once he locks eyes with me. Now all of a sudden he isn’t in a hurry anymore. No, now the douchenozzle has all the time in the world.
My God, what a tool!
“Pardon me, love,” he flirts, breaking out in a toothy, saccharine grin that reminds me of a late-n
ight televangelist.
“Why?” I snap back. “Did you just crop dust the place?”
Really? Does he think I am anywhere near stupid enough to fall for that crap when I just witnessed his true colors? Fuckwit.
Apparently my insult went right over his head, because he continues to grin at me like a drooling imbecile. Rolling my eyes, I ignore the creep and turn my attention to Hazel.
“How are you this morning?” I ask, smiling brightly.
“Oh, I’m finer than frog hair split down the middle,” she chuckles, her powder blue eyes crinkling in amusement. “How you doin’, sugar?”
“If I were any better, I don’t think I could stand it.”
“Can’t ask for more than that, I reckon. Oh, my. I see someone’s got a new addition to the family.” Checking the price tag on the M&M’s, she slowly pecks away at the register with gnarled fingers.
“I’m an aunt,” I tell her proudly. “My brother and his wife just had their first child.”
“Is that right? Well, congratulations. My word, I thought maybe you had a new baby brother. You sure don’t look old enough to be an aunt. That comes to seventeen ninety-five, sugar.”
I pay her and wait patiently while she wraps the jar in tissue paper and slides it carefully into a bag. “Thank you so much, Hazel. You have a wonderful day.”
“You do the same. Now don’t you go and spoil that baby too much, y’hear?”
“I’ll try not to.” Giving her a wink, I head for the nearest elevator and press the button, humming softly to myself while I wait for the doors to open. The maternity ward is on the fourth floor, and Melanie’s room number is 446. Past the nurse’s station, end of the hallway on the left. I memorized it before we left last night, along with how to get here since I am terrible with directions. I could get lost in my own back yard.
Even if I didn’t know the room number, the humongous blue door hanger would give it away. Daddy and Louise must’ve bought the biggest wreath they could find. I pause to read the announcement one more time.
Every good and perfect gift is from above. ~James 1:17