What You Wish For

by Fern Michaels

  Somehow the phone found its way to her hand. She dialed Gerry’s number and wasn’t surprised to hear him pick up after the first ring.

  “Can’t sleep, Izzie?”

  “Guess you can’t either. Maybe we should call Artie and have a three-way conference call.”

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. He treasures his sleep. His arthritis is bothering him a lot lately. How much have you had to drink?”

  Isabel chose to ignore the question. “As soon as it gets light, I’m calling in a contractor to renovate this damn house. I need sunshine. I hate this place. Tell me again, Gerry, why I stay here. Never mind. I’m going for a walk. Go back to bed.” She hung up the phone before her old friend could respond.

  How many times had she gone for this same walk? Hundreds? Thousands? Maybe hundreds of thousands of times. She could find her way in the dark even if she wore a blindfold.

  As she walked along, she slurped from the bottle in her robe pocket. Courage in a bottle. It was such a crock. She didn’t know the first thing about courage and guts. If she did, she wouldn’t be walking down this well-worn path.

  Isabel was almost to her destination when she saw headlights arc to the left of where she was walking. Gerry. Or Artie. She kept walking.

  He was there before she was. But then maybe that’s why she’d called him. Sometimes she just didn’t know the why of things.

  “It’s four-thirty in the morning, Izzie.”

  “It will be light in another hour. Why are you here?”

  “Because you need me, that’s why. You have to stop this. It isn’t good. It sure as hell isn’t healthy. It was a long time ago.”

  “To me it was yesterday. Guess you called Artie, huh? I thought you said he treasured his sleep.”

  “You’re more important than Artie’s sleeping habits.”

  “That’s nice of you to say that, Gerry. Want a drink?”

  “Why the hell not,” Gerry grumbled.

  “We have to stop doing this, Izz,” Artie said as he, too, walked through the undergrowth in his pajamas and slippers, his hair standing on end. “Pass that bottle to me. You already have a snootful, don’t you, Izz?”

  “What if I do?” Isabel said smartly. “I didn’t ask you to come here. Go home.”

  “And leave my best friend in the whole world here crying? I don’t think so,” Artie said.

  “That goes for me, too, Izzie. We were part of it. We were only eight years old. There was nothing we could do. As it was, your father ran us off. We came back as soon as we could. Don’t you understand, there was nothing we could do?” He wondered how many times he’d said these same words and how many more times he would say them during the course of his life.

  “I should have kicked him, screamed at him to make him stop. I could have done that.”

  “You did do that. We all did. You just blocked it out. You were like a wild tiger that morning. Artie and I screamed every cussword we knew. Why in the goddamn hell do you think I became a vet? Why do you think Artie designed all those computer programs for vets and that database as well? We were just kids. And if you think for one minute, I don’t think about that day every day of my life, you’re wrong. I know I speak for Artie, too. Sixty-one years later and we still think about it. You’re losing it, Izzie. You need to get a grip on things. It’s the Ward woman that’s doing this to you. Damn it, I wish I had never called you that night.”

  “How many times are we going to go over this?” Artie said, sitting down on the ground.

  “There are just some things you never forget. If you two hadn’t attacked him he would have . . . I saw his eyes. You saw his eyes. Maybe we were just kids, but all three of us couldn’t be wrong. You’re right, Gerry, Helen Ward brought it front and center. She’s just like me. I can’t ignore that.”

  “You are helping her. You gave her a new life. The rest is up to her,” Artie said. “By the way, her husband moved out of his house. I heard he has a small apartment in town. He cashed in his pension. Took a big hit on taxes and penalties. Rumor has it that our competitors are trying to sign him up. I thought you might want to know.”

  “I have a real bad feeling about him. I’m worried about Helen. He will find her. I don’t know how, but he will. That man isn’t like the others we’ve had to deal with. This one is smart. I feel like I’ve lied to her. I keep telling her she’s safe, and we all know it isn’t true.”

  “Can we talk about this tomorrow, Izz? I’d like to go home now. I have a breakfast meeting at seven.”

  “I’m going to stay here for a while,” Isabel said.

  Artie dropped back to the ground. “Damn, I’m going to be thinking about this all day now.”

  “Let’s get to it, Izzie.”

  Isabel got up and walked over to a small clearing full of wildflowers and manicured shrubbery. She dropped to her knees and started to cry. Artie and Gerry watched helplessly as Isabel moved among the old stones where they’d scratched numbers one through nine. Eyes wet, they also dropped to their knees. All three were children again as they relived the most horrific moment of their young lives. The day Anson Tyger had drowned Isabel’s pet dog and her nine new pups in front of their very eyes. And when he’d stretched out his long arm for Isabel, they’d turned into instant warriors.

  “It’s an omen, don’t you see,” Isabel cried. “Helen Ward came to you with Lucie that night. What are the chances of that happening ever again? She was the ninth person to enter the shelter in December. Lucie was Nine-A. That has to mean something. I think it means I am to guard her with my life. I don’t care what you two big strapping men think. Do you hear me? I don’t care. And furthermore, if I want to come here and bawl my eyes out at four-thirty in the morning, I will do so. I will continue to come here until the day I die. And when I die, if you two are still alive, I hope you will come in my place. That dog was my best friend. She made my life bearable. I promised to take care of her and her pups. I promised just the way Helen Ward promised. I would have, too. She trusted me, she depended on me, and I couldn’t help her. She had the most beautiful, soulful eyes. The pups were precious. I loved each and every one of them. I loved them more than I loved the man who was my father. I hated him. I still hate him. I danced on his grave. I was next. We all know it. That’s what we’ve never been able to forget. He would have drowned me, too. If I was a man, I would have pissed on his grave.”

  “We did it for you, Izz,” Artie said gently.

  “Yeah, we did, Izzie,” Gerry said just as gently.

  “Good for you. Good for all of us. This calls for a drink,” Isabel said, handing over the bottle to her friends. “Do you agree? It’s an omen?”

  Both men shook their heads.

  “Then, gentlemen, you may each take one of my arms and walk me back to my house that is shortly going to be redone. I have a plan.”

  “Ah, she has a plan,” Artie said.

  “I love a good plan. Especially when it comes together. Why don’t you skip your breakfast meeting and Izzie can have her housekeeper make us some of her famous Belgian waffles?” Gerry said.

  “Okay. I’m certainly dressed for it,” Artie said, pointing to his pajamas and slippers.

  Isabel stopped in her tracks. She turned around to face her two old friends. “A person is rich if he or she can claim one good friend. I’m rich beyond measure since I have two such good friends. I don’t know what I would have done without you two.”

  “It’s the other way around, Izz. Gerry and I are the lucky ones. Whoever would have thought, all these years later, we’d still be coming here and still be friends,” Artie said gruffly.

  “Let’s eat on the patio,” Isabel said.

  “Sounds good. I can’t wait to hear this plan of yours,” Gerry said, his eyebrows knitting into a straight line across his wrinkled forehead. “It’s about Helen Ward, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. It’s about Helen Ward.”

  “So are you ready?” Sam barked through the closed door. “C
’mon, the fish are biting, and I want to eat fish tonight. I’m going to load the car. You bring the dogs and whatever you think you might need, okay?”

  Helen opened the door. “Are you always this cheerful in the morning?” Overhead, birds chirped as the sun began to peek through the new growth on the trees. It was going to be a wonderful day.

  “I’m trying to make up for canceling our dinner the other night.”

  “I told you I didn’t mind. It’s still dark out, Sam.”

  “It’s getting light. Sometime I’ll take you night fishing. Just you and the moon and the stars. No stress, no strain. Just you and the fish.”

  “I’m throwing mine back if I catch any.”

  “You’re what?” Sam said, pretending horror.

  “I could never kill something and then eat it.”

  “You eat meat, don’t you?”

  “Hardly ever. I’m basically a vegetarian. The chicken I made the other night was the first meat I’d had in months. I never eat red meat.”

  “I’m carnivorous.” Sam grinned. “I packed us a lunch just in case.”

  “I’m ready. Does Max bring his blanket with him?”

  “No, leave it behind. He’ll be so busy chasing squirrels and rabbits, he’ll forget about it, and he has your dog to play with.”

  “Are there ticks there? If a dog gets a tick on his spine, it will paralyze him until it’s taken out.”

  “I didn’t know that. We’ll keep a sharp eye. How do you know about that?”

  “I saw it on the Internet.”

  Helen picked up Lucie and settled her on the backseat of Sam’s Chevy Blazer. “Be a good girl now and don’t jump off.” She smiled when Max leaped onto the seat and nudged her hand away from Lucie.

  “I think he’s trying to tell you something.” Sam laughed.

  Helen frowned. “Your dog is very possessive. I’m not sure I like that,” Helen said defensively.

  Sam slammed the door of the cargo hold and stared at her. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “I don’t understand. The dogs like each other. You should be glad, like I am, that they have someone to keep them company all day when they’re alone.”

  Helen felt flustered as she walked around to the passenger side of the 4 x 4 and climbed in.

  “Is this something you don’t want to talk about, or is it none of my business?”

  “Both,” Helen said.

  “I guess I can respect that. Would you rather talk about the world situation or how about that business you’re starting? By the way, how’s the job going?”

  “Waitressing isn’t easy. The tips aren’t what I thought they would be. The people are nice, though, so that helps. I can eat and drink all I want. The hours are good, too, so I can’t really complain. It isn’t my life’s work. What are you going to be doing this summer?”

  “I teach a few courses at Rutgers a couple of days a week for extra money. I’m helping a couple of my more promising students study for the GMATS. Like you, the hours allow me to do other things. Max likes to hike, and I fish or just get in the truck and go. I do some tent camping a few times during the summer. All things considered, I lead an uneventful life. Then there are the barbecues and the blind dates my friends insist on.”

  “Oh.”

  “Oh? That’s it, oh? Does that mean you don’t like blind dates or you don’t like me going on blind dates?”

  “Do blind dates ever develop into anything?”

  “Not for me. You know what my true test is when I meet a young woman?”

  “No. What?”

  “Max. Some women just aren’t animal people, dog people in particular. I cross them off my list right away. I can’t imagine life without an animal in it. Sometimes they pretend they like old Max, but I can see through that right away. If he doesn’t warm up to someone I bring home, I don’t bring her home a second time. Take you. He liked you right away. Hell, he even licked your hand. There was only one other female he liked, but she didn’t like me. She told me right to my face accounting people were boring and unimaginative and she didn’t want to waste her time on someone like me.”

  Helen laughed. “Did she really say that or are you making it up?”

  “So help me God. She designed galoshes. You know, rubber boots. Fishing boots and rain boots. All the colors of the rainbow, red, purple, bright yellow. Those babies sell like crazy, too.”

  Helen continued to laugh.

  “You should do that more often. You’re pretty when you laugh.”

  Lucie barked sharply, Max joining in. Helen laughed again. “I’ll have to remember that.”

  “You were supposed to say I’m handsome when I laugh. No, no, don’t say it now, it’s too late.”

  “Actually, what I was going to say was I admire a sunny disposition so early in the morning. Truly, I admire anyone who can get up early and be cheerful. I’m pretty much of a grouch until I’ve had three cups of coffee.”

  “You’re forgiven. Do you know how to cook fish?”

  “You mean a whole fish or a filet?”

  “Either-or?”

  “Assuming we catch some fish and assuming you clean them up and fillet them, I think I can do my part. What did you pack in the picnic basket?”

  “Tell me what you packed first,” Sam said craftily.

  “I asked you first.” God, I’m flirting. A warm feeling spread up and down Helen’s arms. A nice feeling, she decided, and long overdue.

  “Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and apples. Good stick-to-your-ribs food. What’d you bring?”

  “Tuna and egg salad. I wasn’t sure which one to make so I made both and then mixed them together. Overall, it’s an interesting taste. Nut rolls that I made myself last night and some apple wedges and orange slices. I bought some treats for the dogs. Lu . . . my dog loves them. I guess none of us will starve,” Helen babbled, aware that she’d almost slipped again. She risked a glance at Sam to see if he’d picked up on the slip. He seemed oblivious.

  The balance of the ride to Round Valley was made with small bursts of chatter mostly centering on the weather, Sam’s students, and tales of both dogs.

  “Wow, I thought we’d be the first ones here. Just goes to show the fish must be biting. You are going to get an education today, Miss Baker.”

  “I can hardly wait. What about the dogs?”

  “Just let Max take over. He knows the boundaries, and he knows the rules. I assume you brought your whistle.”

  Helen yanked at the string around her neck. “Two toots and they come back. One toot means they have to bark to give us their location, right?”

  “You got it,” Sam said, taking the fishing poles from the back of the Blazer. “You’re like an overanxious mother. Is there a reason for that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh. Hey, hold on a minute. You need to carry your share,” Sam said, reaching for Helen’s arm to pull her toward him.

  Helen’s face drained of all color as she flinched and cowered close to the Blazer.

  “Whoa,” Sam said, backing up, the palms of his hands straight out in front of him. “Easy, Nancy.”

  “I . . . I . . . I’m . . . sorry. I don’t . . . what it is . . . I don’t like to be . . . touched.”

  “Okay. I can respect that. Are you okay?”

  “I’m . . . okay.”

  “Then I say, let’s go fishing.”

  “Sam . . .”

  “It’s okay, Nancy. You don’t owe me any explanation. You ready to fish?”

  “I’m ready to fish. And, I’m ready to make a bet. A dollar. I bet I catch more fish than you.”

  “You are on, lady. Show me the color of your money.”

  Helen forced her facial muscles into a smile as she withdrew a crumpled dollar bill from her jeans pocket. “Let’s see yours.”

  “You’re gonna have to trust me. I locked my wallet in the glove compartment.”

  “I hope you didn’t pull that tired
old excuse on the lady with the rubber boots.”

  “Ya know what, she was the boring one. I’m a fun guy, don’t you think?”

  “Absolutely.” Helen giggled and flushed a rosy red.

  “Why do I get the feeling you don’t laugh much?”

  “Oh, I can giggle with the best of them,” Helen said flippantly.

  “You can, huh? I’m going to remember that.”

  He was flirting with her. It was going to be a wonderful day.

  As she trudged alongside Sam, she was aware of how bright the new sun was, how pungent the pine-scented air had become, and how beautiful the water was with the sun shining down on it. Simple things. Things she’d never paid attention to. Now, all of a sudden they were in her face just the way Sam was in her face. Oh, yes, it was going to be a glorious day.

  9

  Helen turned on her computer and waited, hoping Boots would be on-line that evening. She had so much to tell her, so much to share since they’d last communicated. Her gaze went to the small desk calendar sitting alongside her computer. Was it really three days since she’d logged on to talk to Boots? She’d sent almost a dozen e-mails, with no response to any of them. She was worried because it was unlike Boots, who was so conscientious about the on-line counseling. True, it was a little over fifteen months since she’d moved there and begun the late-night counseling sessions, and it wasn’t imperative that she cleanse her mind every single night. At least that’s what Boots had said in her last e-mail, but surely Boots didn’t think it was time to cut her loose. Her heart took on an extra beat at the mere thought of being totally on her own, with no support to fall back on. Certainly Boots would have discussed a major decision like that with her. Besides, it had to go through channels, and Isabel Tyger had the final say in such matters.

  She wished she knew more about her faceless counselor. What she did know, she liked, and plans were in the works, providing the shelter’s board agreed, for a meeting in Asbury Park between her and Boots. It was something she looked forward to, something she anguished over when she sent her letter to Isabel Tyger asking for permission to meet with her counselor. All she wanted was one day and the opportunity to thank Boots in person, to walk on the boardwalk and the beach and maybe get a hot dog. It was supposed to be a great day for Lucie and Max, too. Boots loved animals, and said she would love to meet Lucie and Max. Come to think of it, the last sessions were more about Lucie and Max than about her. That was okay, too. She loved talking about the dogs. Anything she had to say on the on-line sessions was now redundant. Except maybe her fears, fears she knew would never go away until the day Daniel Ward died. Sam was helping with all those emotions, though. There were now days, sometimes weeks, when she didn’t think about Daniel at all. Where are you, Boots?