by Bonnie Tharp
Tears fill her eyes. She bit her cheek to prevent them from falling. “Stop it. That hurts!”
Tom let go, causing Peggy to stumble.
“I’m sorry. I lost my temper.” He ran his hands through his thinning hair. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“What kind of a father are you?” Peggy rubbed her sore arm.
“I’m out of practice. I guess I never was a good dad. But I want to try.” She flinched when his arms reached for her.
“Just leave, Dad. The neighbors will call the cops. Please.”
He staggered back, his arms outstretched. “I’m sorry . . .” Sirens wailed. “Let me explain. I’m . . . I’ll call and talk to your grandmother.” He turned and jumped over the porch rail, running around the side then behind the house. The sirens were very close which meant help wasn’t far away. Peggy kicked the door shut. Hunkering down with her back against it, she slid to the floor. Tad peeked around the corner.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded. “Where’s Megan?”
“Behind the china cabinet in the dining room.”
“Good spot. She can come out though, he’s gone.” Peggy’s behind hurt, and her head ached. A lone tear slipped down her cheek.
“Hey, Megan, coast is clear. You can come out,” he said. “See, he is scary isn’t he?”
“Yeah. He was really mad. Better call Joe and ask him to go pick up Gram and Tillie. They’re probably running this way, and we don’t want Gram to have another heart attack.”
“Yeah.” Tad made the call.
Slipping into the entryway, Megan sat on the floor beside her older sister. “Don’t cry.” She put her hand over Peggy’s larger one and squeezed.
“I’m okay. I just fell and hurt my butt.” Peggy leaned over on the cheek, rubbing the sore flesh.
With a giggle, Megan smiled at her sister. “You were very brave.”
She wrapped her arm around Megan’s shoulder and gave her a quick hug. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Chapter 21
THE LIGHT FROM the western windows in the top floor studio illuminated the canvas Regina had nearly finished painting. The oil colors were luminous, capturing the early summer wildflowers in the field of bluestem behind the home she and Sam shared. Sugar curled up on the rug in the middle of the floor beside her master’s unoccupied recliner.
The need to paint woke Regina that morning and still gripped tight. She’d jumped out of the bed, grabbed a banana and a cup of coffee then went up the stairs to get to work, still in the old tee shirt she’d slept in. The day passed quickly. She moved the easel to follow the shafts of light. When her stomach growled earlier she grabbed a peanut butter sandwich. By the time the sun had moved directly overhead, her now-shorn locks were tucked behind her ears.
“Hey there, love.” Sam materialized in the doorway.
She didn’t take her eyes from the canvas. “Hi.”
“Looks like you’ve been painting for hours. Wow, that’s beautiful. Are you about finished?”
She stuck the paintbrush behind her ear and stepped back. “Close. What time is it?”
“Almost two. I decided to leave early to see if you wanted to roll in the hay.”
Her eyes never left the painting. “Hum.”
“Guess not.”
She turned to look at him, momentarily distracted. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“Never mind. I wouldn’t think of getting between an artist and her muse. I might get hurt.”
“Ahuh.” She nodded and turned her attention back to her work.
“When do you plan to take a break?”
Looking up from the painting, Regina saw the twinkle in his eyes. “I think now would be a good time.” She cleaned her brush then covered the easel with a cloth. Regina looked down at her bare legs and paint-stained tee, feeling heat rise in her cheeks.
“I have an idea. Come downstairs and talk with me while I fix a snack. Being in court all morning made me miss lunch.”
“Okay.” Shaking her head at her disheveled appearance, Regina wiped her hands on the ruined shirt and followed him down the stairs.
He glanced over his shoulder at her. “I talked with Annabelle today.”
“Has something happened?”
“Tom came by the house after Tillie and Annabelle left for a walk. Peggy answered the door and he pushed his way in. Tad sneaked off with Megan and called 911 while their sister kept him busy. Sounds like he got pretty pissed off.”
“Did he hurt her?”
“Nope. She’s tough like her Cousin Regina.”
He grabbed the bread and peanut butter, continuing the narration. “He’s obviously losing his patience. Annabelle is going to have to do something before he blows.”
He took a huge bite of his sandwich, washing it down with a gulp of milk. “I want to ask you something.” He paused to swallow. “Do you want Annabelle to change her Will so you’re not responsible for the kids anymore?”
Regina pulled a diet soda from the refrigerator and sat by the bar. “No. I think it’s the right thing to do. They’re my family.”
Sam let out a long breath. “Good. Will you let her know that it’s okay to leave it as it is? I think she’d appreciate hearing it from you.” He slathered peanut butter and jelly on more bread, slapping the two pieces together with a pat.
“I can, and I will. But I think I need to get a shower and dress first.” She gave him what she hoped was a seductive smile.
“I kinda like the view like it is, disheveled, colorful and lovely. Especially the little smudge of purple on your cheek.”
He laughed as she grabbed a napkin and wiped the wrong cheek in an attempt to clean the paint from her skin. He took it from her and gently wiped the spot, kissing it when he finished.
“I’d like them to keep the house, too. When Annabelle’s gone, Peggy can have it.” She felt the heat suffuse her neck and flow up to her hairline.
“Okay, I’ll draw up the papers. Did you know they’re getting a dog from the Humane Society?” He ate his second sandwich with just as much gusto as the first.
“Really? A year ago I would’ve been furious, but now I’m glad. They could use the protection along with the companionship. Although, I don’t know what Ms. Pickles will think of a permanent canine in residence. She tolerates Sugar’s periodic visits, but full time—”
“The cat will adjust.”
“She’ll probably choke on a hairball.” Regina deposited the pop can on the counter.
Looking pleased, Sam said, “I get to help them choose.”
“Really? I just figured Tillie or Joe would do it.” Regina started pacing.
“The kids and Annabelle like Sugar so much I think they’re hoping we’ll find a dog that’s her equal.” His eyes followed her back and forth.
“That’s a good idea. Then Megan can take the dog and Ms. Pickles for walks.”
Sam chuckled. “Carrying the cat once her cast comes off, no doubt.”
“No doubt. Three legs just aren’t enough to keep up with that youngster.”
Regina took another sip of her soda in silence. Sam finished his snack, placing the plate in the dishwasher and rinsing out his glass.
“I have another question for you.”
“Alright. Go ahead.” She leaned back against the counter.
He wrapped himself around her, nuzzling her neck. “Why did you really cut your hair?”
“Time for a change.” She fingered the wavy locks, flipping it back with her hand.
“I think you look freer with it short. What did you do with all your hair?” His warm breath left a train of goose bumps on her bare skin.
“I donated it to make wigs for cancer patients.” Her
voice quivered.
He touched a curl. “It’s sexy.”
“Nice of you to notice.” She batted her eyelashes at him, but he didn’t smile.
“If something happened to me, Reggie, where would you live?”
“Here. It’s my home. The Queen Anne is for Annabelle and the kids. I thought I made that clear. Unless you were thinking of leaving your house to someone else?” She stuck her nose in the air.
“No. You want to know something?” He stroked her shining hair, burying his fingers deep in the waves.
“What?” She closed her eyes.
“I’m impressed.”
“With what?”
“How much you’ve changed.” He gave her a quick squeeze.
“Do you mind that the spit polished Regal Regina no longer exists?” She stroked his jaw with her paint-spattered fingers.
“I love it. You’re just showing the woman I knew was there all the time.” He kissed her palm.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about my Aunt Rose, Annabelle’s mother. I think she’d be especially proud. My mother, on the other hand, is probably moldering in her grave.” Regina leaned her cheek against the back of his hand. “She doesn’t haunt me anymore, though.”
“Good deal. And your dad?”
“He didn’t care about me. He was too busy making the family fortune.” She tucked her hair behind her ear.
“There’s something to be said for financial security.” His voice was serious.
“Not really. It never made me feel loved or even safe. I’m learning you really can’t purchase happiness.”
“What about freedom?”
“Yes. There is that. I was free to paint and not work, because I lived frugally. And the house was paid for. It just required upkeep. I was luckier than Annabelle. Although a womanizer, my husband was a good companion, not like her husband, David. At least he never beat their daughter. Not that it mattered. Lydia still grew up hating Annabelle.”
“What about your daughter?”
“Beth? I imagine she’d be tall like me. Peg reminds me of her.” She leaned her face on his chest, sighing.
“The hope of her?”
“Very astute counselor.” She straightened her painted tee shirt and looked him in the eye.
“Peggy took a couple of hard knocks both physically and emotionally from Tom’s visit yesterday. She’s probably feeling pretty raw right now. She could use a woman’s ear.”
Regina paused to consider his words. “I wonder . . . maybe I’ll go by and see if she wants to go shopping.”
“You? Shop?” He laughed.
“Darling, I didn’t get my lovely wardrobe by osmosis. There’s a fabulous shop in Old Town I haven’t been to in a while. I may have to see what Lucinda’s has in stock. If nothing else, I’ll buy new earrings.” She stood, her open arms punctuating her words.
“Why? You have hundreds.” He was smiling, laughing at her.
She pointed at him and winked. “You can never have too many earrings, love.”
“If you say so. I guess I may as well go back to work. I’m not wanted around here.”
She took his hand. A smile slowly spread across her face. “I need someone to wash my back. Care to volunteer?”
“I am at your disposal.” He rose to follow her.
“I’m counting on it.” Regina tugged him toward the stairs.
Chapter 22
THE KNOCK ON the bedroom door woke Peggy. Bright sunshine filled the room, and the tall bedposts cast shadows across the sheets.
“Time to get up!” Annabelle called before opening the door. “Who’s going with Sam to find us a dog?”
“Me!” Megan rolled to the edge of the bed and hobbled into the bathroom.
“What about you, Peg? Are you going?”
Peggy lay still a moment then stretched her long sleepy limbs. She smiled at her grandmother.
“You know, I think I will. Is Tad up yet?”
“Yes. He was up while it was still dark. He’s cleaned out the cookie jar and he’s eaten half a loaf of bread.”
The teen threw off the sheet. “Then I guess I’d better get dressed and supervise this adventure. Are you coming?”
“I wish I could, but I have things to get done around here. Remember, no small puppies, but no really old dogs either. Make sure it gets along with other animals, too. This is Ms. Pickles’ home and Sugar needs to be able to visit.”
Pulling on her jean shorts, Peggy laughed. “Gee, Gram. You sound as excited as Megan.”
“We always had dogs and cats on the farm. I enjoyed all the animals. It was my job to feed and water them, just like it’ll be you kids’ job to care for any pets around here. They’ll love you all the more for it.”
“Okay, Gram, I get it.” Peggy ran a brush through her hair as her sister wobbled around, wiggling into her clothes.
With a smile Annabelle turned to leave. “Off with you, then. Sam’s out front. Grab a granola bar for you and your sister.”
“Thanks.” After giving Megan a hand, Peggy made a run for the door with their breakfast bar. “Tad, Megan, come on, Sam’s here!”
“Coming.” Megan flip-flopped down the steps in her one sandal.
“Out of my way, small fry.” Tad pushed past her so he could take the stairs down two at a time.
“No you don’t, Tadpole.” Megan thumped down only a few steps behind him.
“Ha! Give it up.” He stopped near Peggy in the entry.
The three of them went out the door, slamming the screen in their wake.
“Hi!” Megan leaned into a crutch and waved at Sam.
“Hey, Man,” Tad said. “Shotgun!”
“Hi, Sam.” Peggy helped her sister into the back seat.
“Hello all and buckle up, please.” Sam backed the car out and drove through the neighborhood of mature trees and turn of the century homes, before turning onto Thirteenth Street. “What kind of dog do you plan to get? Did you do your homework? Do you want a big dog? A smart dog?”
“That’s a lot of questions,” Megan said. “Yes. We did all of those things, and yes, we want a big smart dog.”
“Not too big,” Peggy said. “We don’t want all our money to go for dog food. And a really big dog might knock Gram over.”
Geez, I sound like Regina. Peggy sighed.
“I want a Rottweiler.” Tad put his arm over the seat back to look at his sisters.
Peggy shook her head. “Too big and too mean.”
“Good guard dog, though.” Tad turned back around with a shrug. “Besides, who died and made you boss?”
“I’m the oldest. Get over it.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re such a dweeb.”
“What about a Labrador Retriever?” Sam asked.
“Like Sugar Bear? Cool!” Megan said.
“That’d be okay. She’s smart. All Labs must be smart. They’re on TV all the time.” Tad smiled at Sam.
“What about you, Peg? What would you like to get?” Sam asked.
Shrugging, Peggy said, “I don’t care. A mutt is fine with me. Or a German Shepherd.”
“Or a Doberman,” Tad added. “Shepherds and Dobies were good war dogs.”
“They’re neat looking, but I don’t want a war dog. We’re not in a war.” Megan stuck her tongue out at her brother.
Sam smiled at Megan in the rear view mirror. “Well. That gives me an idea about what to help you look for. We’ll have to wait and see what they have, though.” Sam signaled the turn.
Megan leaned close to her sister. “Do you think we could get a kitten, too?”
“I don’t think so, honey.” Peggy whispered back to her now pouting sister.
“Ms. Pickles will be outnumbered when Sugar vis
its.”
Peggy patted her little sister’s hand. “Ms. Pickles can hold her own.”
The group pulled into the Humane Society lot and parked in front of the new building. Made of brick and concrete, the smoke stack was discreetly situated at the back. The empty fenced-in play area had lots of shade trees. Sam held open the glass door for the kids to precede him. The shiny floors were gray concrete. Muffled barking penetrated the closed doors on the east side of the room. The disinfectant in the air didn’t quite cover the animal smells.
A young volunteer in green scrubs sat behind the counter and smiled. “Hello, can I help you?”
Sam held up his hand and ticked each requirement off his fingers. “We’re looking for a young dog, about a year old, but not too large, that gets along with other animals and children.”
“Most of what we have right now are puppies and kittens, but—there might be one. Turbo gets along with other dogs and cats. He’s not more than two. He’s a pretty big boy, but he’s very well mannered. He’s a Labrador Rottweiler mix,” said the attendant.
Tad’s face split in a huge grin. “Perfect.”
“May we see him?” Peggy asked.
“Sure. Join me in room one. If you’re interested, we’ll bring him out to the common area.”
Peggy nodded then watched the clerk walk away thinking that she couldn’t be more than twenty. “I hope this dog isn’t too big.”
The meeting area was about the same size as the kitchen back home with a bench on one wall and a chair on wheels in the corner. A modern structure designed with sparse furniture and easy maintenance. The bright colored laminated cabinets and wall of windows allowed the sunlight into the entire building.
Sam and Tad stood next to the built-in bench, while Peggy and Megan sat down. They all watched the door, anticipating what would be appearing any moment. No one spoke.
The clerk opened the door and allowed the black dog to walk in a couple steps ahead of her. He didn’t pull on the lead, but stood waiting for her to close the door. He wagged his tail then turned to the crowd watching him from across the room. He slurped his nose, his tongue lolling into a pant.