At the Heart of It

by Tawna Fenske

  He shoved the card in his pocket and met her eyes. “The fact that those are the two possibilities that occur to you means I’m probably not going to get a straight answer.”

  “I don’t know,” she said, ordering herself to hold his gaze. “I don’t know what’ll happen to the show if you won’t do it. That’s the truth.”

  He stared at her for a long time. So long Kate couldn’t help letting her gaze stray from his, drifting quickly down his bare chest and then back up to those amber-green eyes that seemed to be staring straight into her soul.

  “I’ll be in touch,” he said.

  Then he turned and walked away, the little fox dog trotting along beside him.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Jonah walked through the doors of the Clearwater Animal Shelter and handed Buster’s leash to the redhead wearing a mischievous smile and a nametag that said “Josslyn.”

  “I gave out six business cards and fielded nine requests to pet the dog,” he reported as he moved past his sister behind the counter.

  Jossy grinned and shoved a shock of curly red hair behind one ear. “How many requests to pet you?”

  Jonah grunted. “Two.”

  He rummaged under the counter for his T-shirt, feeling oddly self-conscious. It’s not like he wasn’t used to walking bare chested around Alki Park, but it always left him feeling like an aging frat boy. Fall was on the way, and with it the colder weather. He felt relieved. It meant he could graduate to a skin-tight thermal shirt for the winter.

  “Here,” Jossy said, shoving the T-shirt into his hand. “You left it in the back room again. I swear you’d lose your balls if they weren’t stapled on.”

  “And if I didn’t have women checking them for me every time they try to stick their phone numbers down the front of my shorts?” Jonah took the T-shirt and began hunting for the neck hole while Jossy made cooing noises at the little terrier.

  “You’re exaggerating again,” Jossy said. “That only happened once.”

  “Twice.”

  “And didn’t you say she was drunk?”

  “You’re implying that’s the only way I’d get groped?” Jonah finished tugging down his shirt and looked at his sister.

  “Yes, because you’re a disgusting boy.”

  “If I’m that repulsive, why do you keep making me work as your shirtless dog walker?”

  “Because apparently, a lot of women are charmed by your repulsiveness.” Jossy looked up at him, pausing in the middle of scratching Buster’s ear. “Seriously, Jonah, I owe you.”

  Her expression was still teasing, but there was a glint of adoration now. Hero worship. Jonah’s heart twisted. He wasn’t worthy of her admiration. He was the one who owed her. Owed her everything and then some, which is why he spent as much time as he did “whoring himself out,” as Kate had so eloquently put it.

  “I was running the stats this morning before my meeting with the accountant,” Josslyn said as she led Buster to a red silicone water dish and gave him a long drink. “Ever since you started your shirtless dog-walking campaign, adoptions are up almost thirty percent. Unsurprisingly, they’re nearly all women.”

  Jonah dug out a bottle of lukewarm iced tea from where he’d left it under the counter and pried the top off. He took a long drink before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.”

  “Don’t worry. There are plenty of other reasons to hate you.”

  “You know you love me.”

  “Only because Mom says I have to,” she said. “Also, that’s disgusting. Warm iced tea?”

  “If there’s no ice in it, can’t we just call it tea?”

  “Not if you’re drinking it from a bottle. There are rules for these things.”

  “Remind me to read those never.”

  Jossy rolled her eyes and Jonah felt a soft squeeze of fondness for his sister. He’d been feeling it for thirty-three years, since the day his parents brought the tiny pink bundle home from the hospital. His father had knelt before him in dress blues just a few weeks later, moments before shipping out to some country Jonah couldn’t pronounce yet.

  “You’re in charge,” said the hulking Marine to his three-year-old son. “It’s your job to take care of your baby sister. Understand?”

  Jonah had nodded, resisting the urge to stick his thumb in his mouth or hide behind his mother’s legs. He had a job to do, and he took it seriously.

  He kept taking it seriously through high school, when he was a senior and Jossy a sophomore with flame-red hair and a bubbly personality that made her a magnet for attention.

  But it was her talent on a bike that made her a contender for the US cycling team at only fifteen. With their father gone—killed in the line of duty—Jonah knew it was up to him to keep watch over her. To make sure Jossy was safe and protected and happy and healthy.

  And a damn shitty job you did with that, he reminded himself.

  “Thanks again for watching the front counter earlier.”

  Jossy’s words startled Jonah back to the present. He took another gulp of tea to rinse away his dark thoughts.

  “How did things go with the accountant?” he asked.

  Jossy shrugged and glanced away. He watched her carefully, noticing the shift in her demeanor, the way she wasn’t meeting his eyes. “It was fine,” she said. “The nonprofit world kind of sucks right now, but I’m making it work.”

  She moved across the lobby, her limp more pronounced than it had been earlier in the week. Jonah was primed to notice. Had spent more than a decade noticing.

  He opened his mouth to ask if the prosthetic was bothering her again, but stopped himself. There was no point. She’d just tell him everything was fine and change the subject.

  He watched her open the latch on the largest kennel in the lobby and usher Buster inside. Three spotted puppies scampered over and jumped on the terrier, and the four dogs collapsed into a roly-poly heap of play snarls and dog slobber.

  Jossy closed the gate and wiped her palms down the front of her jeans. “Any chance I could persuade you to watch the front counter for an hour next week?”

  “I think so,” Jonah said. “I have to check my schedule. How come?”

  “The accountant asked to meet again,” she said. “Apparently there’s some stuff we should to deal with on the financial front.”

  “You need money?”

  “I’m good!” she said with cheer that almost sounded real. “Well, aside from needing help watching the counter for an hour. And the service of your disgusting, shirtless body once a week like always.”

  Jonah watched her for a few more beats, trying to get a read on what was bothering her. Money was always tight, and he helped out whenever she let him. Running a nonprofit, no-kill animal shelter wasn’t a ticket to fame and fortune, but his kid sister had always been able to make ends meet. Was she struggling more than he realized?

  She sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him, so Jonah gave up watching her and stepped over to the kennel closest to the counter. He peered inside and found himself staring at the oddest feline features he’d ever seen. The cat had a white face with a lone black polka dot on its left cheek. Its eyes were framed by black slashes of fur that looked like eyebrows arched in disdain.

  The cat wore a look of permanent judgment, though Jonah couldn’t tell if it was displeased by its surroundings, its life, or Jonah himself.

  “When did this guy come in?” he asked Jossy.

  “About an hour ago,” she said. “And it’s a her, not a him.”

  “That explains the look of perpetual disdain.”

  “Be nice!” She smacked him on the shoulder. “I think she’s striking.”

  “I think she’s plotting to rip my eyelids off.”

  “Want her? She’s really sweet.”

  “Eh.” Jonah turned away and started tidying the counter, turning all the pens in the holder so they faced the same direction.

  “Never mind. I forget you have commitment i
ssues.”

  “I do not have commitment issues,” he muttered. “I’m holding out for the right pet.”

  “That’s right,” Jossy teased. “One who speaks to you.”

  “You make it sound like I’m waiting for a dog to serenade me Disney-style,” Jonah muttered. “I’m just waiting for the right fit. The one I look at and instantly think, ‘Here’s what your life is missing.’”

  “I’ve got news for you, bro,” Jossy said. “The pet-sized hole in your life could be filled by any one of a hundred animals. You’re just being picky because you spent so long with your control-freak wife saying you shouldn’t get a pet.”

  “It would have been tough to travel,” Jonah muttered, not sure why he was defending Viv.

  “You have a sister who doubles as a pet sitter,” Jossy pointed out, shaking her head. “You know, if any of these animals could speak for real, they’d tell you to pull your head out of your ass.”

  “That’s exactly what I need,” he muttered. “A pet who passes judgment.”

  He let his gaze slide back to the cat, whose disapproving eyebrows seemed to lift a fraction of an inch. Something began to buzz like a malfunctioning refrigerator, and it took him a moment to realize the cat was purring.

  Jonah turned as Jossy bumped into him en route to the file cabinet. He saw her grimace as she bent down to shove a manila folder inside. The cabinet was gray and battered, a castoff she’d gotten for free when a warehouse had closed down a few weeks before she’d opened this place. Jonah had hauled it in for her, along with all the other furniture and cages. He’d given her the seed money from his portion of the advance for On the Other Hand, insisting she take it as his personal contribution to animal welfare.

  He watched Jossy try to hide a wince as she stood up. This time, Jonah couldn’t help himself. “Your leg bothering you again?”

  “It’s fine.”

  “You know, they’ve made a lot of new advancements in prosthetics. If you want, I could check into—”

  “I’m fine, Jonah. Seriously.”

  Her amber eyes flashed as she stared him down, not blinking at all. Jonah sighed. “Just be gentle with yourself, okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  She moved past him, skirting a bucket half-full of muddy-looking water. He looked up to see the rainwater ring on the ceiling had grown larger over the last week. He’d already patched it half a dozen times, so it was probably time for a new roof. Maybe there was a way to convince her to let him pay for it.

  “You’ve got your own business to worry about,” Jossy always insisted, which was true. Still he wanted to help her. Needed to help.

  “So tell me about your day,” she said, and Jonah stopped staring at the ceiling. “You whipped in here and grabbed Buster before I had a chance to talk to you.”

  “Not much to report,” he said, leaning back against the counter. “I got a new shipment of cookbooks at the store, spent some time doing inventory, told my ex-wife to go fuck herself—”

  “Wait, what?” Jossy laughed and shook her head. “That’s right, I totally forgot she wanted you to go over there today. What did Snobby McBitcherson want?”

  Jonah felt a stab of guilt for starting this round of bad-mouthing his ex. Jossy had never liked Viv, not even when she and Jonah had been married. They’d always been cordial to each other, but there was an undercurrent of unpleasantness between them. Jossy found Viv’s attempts at empathy to be patronizing, and Viv found Jossy repressed and out of touch with her own grief.

  Still, Jonah felt bad feeding the animosity. “I didn’t literally tell her to go fuck herself,” he admitted. “But I did impolitely decline to be part of some stupid reality TV show she’s doing.”

  “Reality TV?” Jossy rolled her eyes. “Please tell me it’s Survivor, and she’ll have to eat cow brains and pee in the woods. Or no!” Jossy smacked her hand on the counter. “It’s The Bachelor, and she’s going to have to dress slutty and degrade herself to get the attention of some schmuck who uses grammar like, ‘Viv and mine’s relationship is very much good.’”

  “A nice thought, but no.”

  “So what is it then? Cake Wars? Deadliest Catch? What?”

  “Actually, it’s a brand-new show. She’d be the star. Couples would come on and she’d try to fix their relationship problems and wrap everything up in a neat little bow at the end of the thirty-minute segment.”

  Jossy frowned. “So what does she want you to do?”

  Jonah shrugged. “Show up and throw out one-liners and straight talk, I assume. Stuff like, ‘Dude, you’ve gotta go down on her first if you want regular BJs. And keep the hedge trimmed. No woman wants to feel like she’s licking the dog.’”

  Jossy made a gagging sound. “So you’re going to do the Average Joe shtick again?”

  “No. Did you miss the part where I said I told her I wasn’t interested?”

  “I heard it. I just know Viv has a way of talking you into things.”

  Jonah felt a stab of annoyance. At Jossy, at Viv, at himself—he wasn’t quite sure. He stuck a finger through the bars of the eyebrow cat’s cage to scratch under her chin, and was rewarded by a gravelly purr that brought his blood pressure back to normal.

  “Trust me,” Jonah said. “If I were going to change my mind, it wouldn’t be because of anything Viv said.”

  His brain flashed on a memory of Kate huffing along beside him, asking real questions instead of firing crap at him about how great the show was going to be or baiting him with reasons he owed it to people to do it. Had Viv told her to try the money angle?

  Unlikely. True, Viv knew about Jossy’s special needs and about the animal shelter, of course. But she had no way of knowing how badly the money might be needed. Not small amounts either. Not the few thousand dollars here and there that Jonah persuaded Jossy to take as donations to the shelter. The amounts Kate had shown him on those forms, those were different. Not keep-things-afloat amounts. They were life-changing amounts.

  While Jonah might like his life just fine, he’d give almost anything to improve his sister’s.

  “What are you looking at, dork?” Jossy asked.

  He’d been staring at her, but there was no way he’d admit that. “What’s the story with this cat, anyway?” he asked.

  “Owner surrender.”

  “What the hell for?”

  Jossy shrugged and slipped a finger through the bars to scratch at the base of cat’s fluffy black tail. The cat boosted her butt in the air and purred harder. “They tried to give some bullshit reason about her being ‘not the right fit’ for the family, but that’s code for ‘I liked the idea of having a cat more than I like actually having a cat and now I don’t want to scoop the litter box.’”

  “Poor girl.” Empathy tugged at Jonah’s gut, and he thought back to his conversation with Kate.

  “We liked the idea of each other, but not the day-to-day drudgery of it.”

  Beside him, Jossy sighed. “It’s okay. We’ll find her the right home.”

  The cat opened her eyes and looked at Jonah. Her eyebrows lifted, shifting her expression from mild disdain to “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  A damn fine question.

  “That reminds me, Beth called,” Jossy said.

  “Why is my store manager calling you now instead of me?”

  “Because I’m nicer,” she said. “And I’m the one who keeps your cat café full of adoptable felines, moron.”

  “Can you repeat the part about you being nicer?”

  “She said they adopted out two more cats yesterday,” Jossy continued, ignoring him. “So I need to send you with a couple more. You want this one?”

  “This one?” Jonah looked at the eyebrow cat. The cat twitched her nose, lifting the beauty mark on her upper lip.

  “Her vaccines are up-to-date, and I’d just as soon get her into a social situation instead of having her stuck here in a cage.”

  Jonah looked back at the cat and something shifted in th
e center of his chest. A cat-shaped hole, maybe. He grunted.

  “Sure. Go ahead and stuff her in a box.”

  “What do you think about this giraffe sculpture?”

  Kate turned to see Amy standing under an enormous bronze monstrosity. The assistant producer gestured like a game show hostess, sweeping her arms wide and tossing her blond curls with dramatic flair.

  Kate laughed and checked the price tag.

  “Not bad,” she said. “Bonus points for the giraffe reference.”

  “Hey, that was one of my favorite chapters in On the Other Hand.” Amy patted the giraffe’s rump. “I love the part about emulating the land mammal with the largest heart.”

  “The quiz was my favorite,” Kate admitted. “Where you sit down with your partner and figure out which animal best represents your communication needs?”

  “And then you spell out your ‘animal needs.’” Amy grinned and made claws with her fingers. “Rawr.”

  Kate smiled and pretended to study the pedestal at the base of the giraffe. Very sturdy, which was more than she could say for the basis of her relationship with Anton. It was stupid to still find herself thinking about him, but she blamed the giraffe. She remembered reading that chapter aloud to Anton in bed one lazy Sunday morning while he sipped coffee and did the crossword puzzle in the morning paper.

  “C’mon,” she’d urged, snuggling up next to him with the book in her lap. “Just answer the question.”

  “Are you serious?” He’d leveled her with a look like she’d asked him to strip naked and run through the neighbor’s sprinkler. “You want me to pretend to be a jackal?”

  “That’s not what I’m saying at all,” Kate had said. “I just want to understand which animal you think best represents you and figure out which one represents me and talk about how we relate to each other when—”

  “How about we just build the beast with two backs and call it good?” Anton had flashed her a salacious grin and set the paper down.

  And Kate—who’d been looking for some form of connection with him anyway—had tugged her sleep shirt over her head and did her best to convince herself it was romantic.