“As long as Carver doesn’t fart,” Kyle said.
“Oh, Kyle! Stop it,” Mim said.
Carver turned just before Remi lowered Dexter the Dalmatian’s head over his. “Don’t worry. I never do.”
“Every guy says that,” Remi said, laughing. “And it’s always a lie.”
His last words, as the Dalmatian’s head came down were, “I won’t, Mim, I promise. Because you didn’t when we were in a similar position.”
Kyle kept fastening the domes that attached the two pieces of the costume together. “I don’t want to hear this.”
“I do,” Ari said. She had poked her head into the office and her smile was as bright as the star on the Christmas tree. “Tell me all about how you were in a similar position, Mim. Was there a Dalmatian involved? Or another breed?”
“Ari. This is stressful enough,” Mim said.
“It’s not like you to be so Scroogey,” Ari said. “Oh, wait.” She paused for dramatic effect. “Yeah, it is.”
The last of the fastenings closed, and Mim was in darkness, her fingers laced through Carver’s belt. All sound was muffled, but Kyle’s laugh somehow rang out through the plush fabric over the opening strains of Jingle Bell Rock. Her face was hot, both from the costume and embarrassment. But it did her heart good to hear that laugh.
Carver moved forward and she followed. She tried to find her own rhythm and stumbled. Hands were there to catch her and set her upright. She slid her hands down from Carver’s waist to the top of his legs so she could tell where he was going next. He jumped forward a little, almost toppling her again. But then he kicked to the right, and Mim kicked to the left. Not too high. Not too fast.
It was enough for the kids. They squealed and laughed so hard that Mim knew she was stuck for awhile. Not that she really minded, now. Deep in the bowels of Dexter the Dalmatian, she was sure she’d sense a sinister vibe from Carver, if there was one. Instead, it felt oddly safe to be following him blindly around. If her nurse’s intuition was to be trusted, she’d have to look further afield for George’s abductor.
Round and around the tree they went. Two songs, three songs. At some point, she stopped resisting.
One-two-three-kick-left. One-two-three-kick-right.
It was all about teamwork, it seemed, and inside the walls of this hospital, she was always a team player.
That had entailed many unsavory things. Playing the hind end of a dog certainly wasn’t the worst of it. It was only the most mortifying.
Still on a high from the party, Mim stepped over the heap of clothes she’d left earlier when she got ready for work. She collapsed into bed, reasonably sure she’d sleep.
One arm crooked under her head, she turned the light low, but not off. Beside her in bed was Kyle’s baseball bat. It had been there since George’s things had gone missing. Knowing someone had come into the house, apparently using a key, was unnerving, even with new locks.
Kyle himself she’d dropped at a friend’s on the way home. He’d whined and complained about being exiled, but she sensed it was also a relief not to be where George wasn’t. He’d asked to take Jezebel, but Mim wanted the loaner for herself this time. There was something soothing about Jezebel’s presence. The dog loved attention, but she also seemed to know when to press for it and when to lean back. George had never mastered those subtleties.
Mim’s eyes drifted to another untidy heap on the floor—her clothes from her mission to Carver’s house two days earlier. She used to be a stickler for things like that, but now there just didn’t seem to be enough hours in the day for all that needed to be done. Going forward, she must set a better example for Kyle, and hopefully for George. In her effort to provide the financial stability they lost when Andrew left, and try to save for Kyle’s future, she had neglected the present. That had become painfully obvious when she’d learned what was going on in her family through a discussion with a police officer. It was a wake-up call. But as long as she could get George back, she could set things right. Someone had to fill the leadership vacuum, and she was the alpha in name, if not in spirit.
Her eyes blurred with tears for a moment. When they cleared, she noticed something odd about the pile on the floor. Throwing back the quilt, she crossed the cold hardwood in bare feet and pulled the mound apart.
Long johns—check.
T-shirt—check.
Sweater—check.
Bra—check.
Socks—check and check.
She shook out each item and dropped it in a new pile. Then she repeated the process. After that, she dropped to the floor to look under the bed and the dresser.
Sitting back, she rubbed her eyes with both hands and went through the whole exercise once more.
Finally, she got up and stared into the empty hamper.
There was no way around it: her red Santa panties were gone.
Chapter 15
Mim arrived for her hospital shift half an hour early on Monday December 23rd. She’d spent most of the night analyzing the situation with Ari, and woke up at five with a stiff neck and a pounding headache. Several cups of coffee and some painkillers had barely made a dent in her stress hangover, but she resisted Ari’s urging to call in sick. She hadn’t taken a sick day since she landed the job at Dorset Hills General Hospital, and she wasn’t about to start now. It would be admitting defeat to the dog-and-underwear thief.
Ari had offered to stay for the night, but Mim declined. As much as she’d have liked the company, Ari had a house full of dogs that needed attention.
Kathleen, the head of the nursing department, glanced up from her charts as Mim walked into the nursing lounge. “Let me guess, you couldn’t sleep,” she said.
“Is it that obvious?” Although Kath was the first one in, her auburn hair was in its usual precise knot and her scrubs—regulation green, always—looked freshly ironed.
Kath studied Mim’s face over her reading glasses. “If you don’t get some rest over the holiday, you’ll end up in one of these beds, Mim. You were running yourself ragged before, and now you’re a wreck.”
“I’m fine, really.” Kath wasn’t a fan of moonlighting, so while Mim didn’t hide her home care work, she tried to go above and beyond in her day job. “It was just a tough night.”
As she told the story of the break-in, a few other nurses trickled into the lounge and gathered to hear the tale.
“First George and now this,” said Angela, Mim’s best work-pal. “It’s turning out to be the worst Christmas ever for you.”
Mim had to think for a moment before agreeing. She’d had some terrible Christmases, both before and after Andrew left. “At least Kyle and I are both safe,” Mim said. “I called the police with the update this morning, and they promised to keep an eye on the place.”
The truth was that Officer Miles had gone off shift, and the desk officer had sounded distracted—as if the disappearance of undergarments was no more than a laundry mishap. His assurance that a patrol car would come by regularly was decidedly unconvincing. But Mim couldn’t stand the worry on her colleagues’ faces. It only reinforced that she should be worried.
Kathleen sent her troops out onto the ward, warning them it would be a hectic day. Any patient who could choose when to get treatment had made pre-holiday appointments.
Mim quickly got caught up in the flow. That was one thing she loved about nursing: the days passed in a blur, broken by moments of true connection with patients that stood out like diamonds. The profession was an amazingly good fit for her. She’d worked unhappily in office administration for years because Andrew didn’t support her desire to go back to school. He’d only yielded when she promised to come out employable, and indeed, two years after graduating, she was making more than her husband. Her willingness to take the toughest jobs had helped her climb the ranks. When her marriage broke down, she took some management courses, but ultimately decided to step back until Kyle was older. By the time she felt ready, she seemed to be stuck in the rank and file, so
she took on the second job instead. The money was better, if the hours sucked.
She regretted that decision today. Kyle had always been so responsible and mature for his age, and it was hard to believe she’d missed the signs of that changing. Andrew said she put so much into her work that it left nothing for him, and she’d dismissed his complaints. Neither of them had ever satisfied the other—no big surprise when they married at 18. What do you know about life and love at that age? She certainly hadn’t understood the impact of keeping Kyle. It was years before her parents had come around, and then she’d rebuffed them.
Nursing had filled the holes in her life. It offered the meaning she craved, without challenging her to look back and analyze.
“No smile for an old man?” her patient asked, as she inserted an IV line.
“Just making sure I hit the right spot,” she said, obliging him with a smile.
“That’s better. It is Christmas, you know.”
He was gaunt, and jaundiced, and getting topped up with a chemical cocktail that would surely make him nauseated for Christmas dinner, yet his spirits were high. As always, nursing delivered a reality check. A missing dog was a picnic compared to cancer.
“Mim,” Angela called. “When you’re done, come down to the cafeteria.”
“Can’t,” Mim said. “Too busy.”
She hadn’t stopped for lunch—none of them had.
“Kathleen’s orders,” Angela said, shrugging in response to Mim’s raised eyebrows.
Finishing up, Mim ran down the three flights to the cafeteria, the butterflies in her stomach keeping pace with her thudding sneakers. Was she in trouble?
At a table near the cafeteria door sat two-thirds of her colleagues. Kath patted the empty seat beside her, and Mim slid into it, catching her breath. “What’s going on?” she asked.
Angela slid an envelope across the table. “Open it.”
“It feels like a going-away party,” Mim said. “Is there something I should know?”
Kath nudged her with one elbow. “Always so negative. Don’t we always honor big life events?”
“Like baby showers?” Angela said.
“So I’m pregnant?” Mim asked. “How the heck did that happen?”
“You mean happen again,” Angela shot back.
Mim pretended to glower at her, but she was the first to joke about how Kyle came into the world. Opening the envelope, she drew out a Christmas card, on the front of which was an illustration of a happy family with a dog. A check fell onto the cafeteria table. It was made out in the amount of $4,000 and signed by Doctor Lenihan—grumpy old Doc Lenihan, who took such delight in finding an error in any nurse’s work.
“It’s for George’s reward,” Angela said, since Mim didn’t appear to be putting the pieces together. “We all kicked in, but most of it is from Doc Lenihan. Believe it or not.”
“Angela,” Kath said, frowning.
“Oh come on, Kath,” Angela said. “You almost fainted when he gave it to you.” Angela turned to scan for the doctor. “It was a total Scrooge transformation moment.”
A big drop splashed on the check and Kath quickly snatched it away and patted it with a serviette.
“Mim’s crying,” Angela announced. “I thought her tear ducts were sutured shut.”
“It’s a Christmas miracle,” another nurse said.
“Stop, you two,” Kath said. “Mim’s going through a hard time.” She passed the check back to Mim. “I would not wreck that if I were you. The chances of it being replaced are slim.”
Mim laughed through her tears and hugged her colleagues one by one. Kath she hugged the longest, knowing that working over Doc Lenihan was her doing. He had a soft spot for smart redheads.
Mim left the hospital with a bag of gifts, and half a dozen offers to spend Christmas with her colleagues and their families. She was surprised and overwhelmed. Although she knew she was well respected, she didn’t fully realize she was also well liked. To top it all off, Kath had insisted she take the next day off, although she’d been scheduled to work on the 24th.
Mrs. Beaton was surprised when Mim arrived unannounced. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Mim said. “You were on my way home. Can’t I drop in on my favorite patient?”
Still suspicious, Mrs. B said, “Tell me what’s going on. Am I getting sicker?”
“No, why would you say that?” She was sorry for dropping in now.
“First Scott starts coming home mid-shift to check on me,” she said. “And now you come by. You two must be hiding something from me.”
“Not at all,” Mim said, preparing to examine Mrs. Beaton. “You seem fine, honestly. Let me speak to Scott. His car’s in the driveway.”
“He’s out back fixing something. He’ll be in to get a bite to eat in a second.”
Mim walked over to the window and shivered as she looked out into the darkness of the backyard. She dreaded going home now, and wondered if that trepidation would ever pass.
In a moment, Scott loomed out of the darkness. Soon she heard him stamping snow off his feet at the back door.
Joining him in the kitchen, she said, “Scott, can I have a word?”
“Uh, sure.” His eyes widened, and he shoved his hands into his pockets.
She realized she must have scared him. Usually she was more tactful with anxious families. “Your mom seems fine,” she reassured him. “But she thinks you’re worried about her because you’ve been checking in more. I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t noticed any change.”
“No, no. It’s not that.” He took one hand out of his pocket and pushed back his hood. “Well, I do worry about her, but there’s no change as far as I can tell.”
She reached out and caught his hand. “Scott!”
“What?” He took a step backwards and pulled his hand away.
She showed him the bloody streak his hand had left on her own. “You’re bleeding.”
He shoved his hand back in his pocket. “It’s nothing. I caught myself on the saw earlier. Someone wanted to take an eight-foot tree down to five, if you can believe it.”
“Let me get my kit. I’ll sterilize and bandage it for you.”
He shook his head. “No need. I’m heading back to the lot now.”
Mrs. Beaton called, “Scott, she’s a nurse. Let her take a look.”
“Ma, it’s fine,” he said. “But thanks for offering, Mim. How’s everything going?”
“Okay, but my dog’s still gone.”
The cold air swept in as he opened the door. “Hope you reported the neighbor.”
“I did.”
Yanking his hood back up, Scott called in through a crack in the door, “I’m sure your pup will be back for Christmas.”
“Fingers crossed,” she said, but the door had already closed.
In the living room, Mrs. Beaton gestured to a gift bag on the table. “There’s something for you.”
Mim peered into the bag and smiled. “Beautiful wrapping.”
“Not my doing. Believe it or not, Scott did it.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have,” Mim said. “It’s against company policy.”
“Just a token, dear—I couldn’t afford more. And if an old lady can’t give her wonderful nurse a trifle, there’s something far wrong with that policy.”
Mim waited until the dressing was securely in place over Mr. Shah’s bad eye before she asked, “What happened to your car?”
He got up from his seat at the kitchen table and walked over to the counter. “Someone dinged the bumper, that’s all.”
“Dinged? I’m surprised it’s still running,” Mim said. “Did you take it out yourself?”
The rustling of papers on the counter stopped and he turned to her. “I went down to the mall to get a few Christmas presents, that’s all. Someone nicked me in the parking lot.”
There was a pleading look in his good eye. Mim knew that losing his driver’s license would be devastating. It was more about
autonomy than mobility. And yet it was her duty to report it if he was a risk to himself or others.
“Your ophthalmologist told you not to drive until he assesses you again in two months. How often have you been out?”
He came over to her, clutching an envelope. “Just a couple of times. I won’t do it again.”
Pulling off her surgical gloves, Mim dumped them into a plastic bag, along with the soiled dressing. “I’m supposed to report it, Mr. Shah. It puts me in a difficult position.”
Reaching out, he took her arm. “Please.”
He seemed sincere, and Mim decided her threat was probably enough. “Okay.”
A smile spread across his face, and he offered her an envelope. “Merry Christmas.”
The envelope was stuffed so full that he’d sealed it with silver duct tape. She used her surgical scissors to slice it open. As she pulled out the card, money fluttered to the floor. Hundred dollar bills. There were more inside.
“Oh, Mr. Shah, I can’t accept this.”
“You have to. It’s for your dog’s reward.”
Mim smiled. “That’s so sweet of you. Thank you so much. But I still can’t take it. It’s agency policy.”
“The agency will make an exception. I’ll call them.”
“The reward is already too high for one little mutt. And you need the money to repair your car.”
“I want you to have it. That’s what friends do for each other.”
“You’re a kind man, Mr. Shah,” she said. But she put the envelope on the table and slid it towards him.
He shoved it back. “Take it.”
Mim started dumping things into her medical kit. A roll of gauze fell onto the floor, and as she picked it up, she collected six one hundred dollar bills and placed those on the table as well.
“Why can’t you just take it?” Mr. Shah’s voice echoed in the kitchen.
“Because it’s inappropriate. I’m your nurse.”
He took the envelope and threw it across the room. The card and the remaining bills fell out and fluttered to the floor. There was well over a thousand dollars in there.
The Dog Town Collection Page 41