Lost, Found, and Forever

by Victoria Schade

  Justine met Griffin at the antiques vendor’s table, where he was checking out boxed Furbys and ThunderCats action figures.

  He glanced down at Spencer. “All good now?”

  “All good.” She nodded.

  “Do you want to grab a coffee or . . .” He trailed off.

  Justine looked at her phone. “It’s getting late and I hate sitting in that traffic. Plus, I need to feed him. It’s not like I can do it before we go.”

  “Understood,” Griffin replied.

  They retraced their path out of the market, both silent. Justine felt an inexplicable sadness settle over her as they walked back to her car. Maybe it was the pending drive back, with Spencer panting a soundtrack in the back seat, or the fact that the crisp fall air was shifting into something that felt more like winter.

  More likely, though, it was the fact that the last thing she wanted to do was walk away from Griffin.

  chapter twenty-eight

  I am the architect of flames and the goddess of fire!” Monty said, holding a burning branch above her head. She was wearing a deer-antler headdress accented with moss, crystals, and feathers.

  The crowd whooped and cheered, raising their own burning branches and bottles of beer to her. It was the night of the annual Birch celebration, where all of Rexford gathered at a massive bonfire in the open field on the edge of town to drink, listen to live music, wear silly hats, and gossip. The event had been started by a few artists within the community in the ’60s, and while it probably had significance when it began, no one quite knew what they were celebrating or why. People had campaigned to move the event from the dicey weather of late fall to spring, but no one was willing to do it for fear of pissing off whatever mystery pagan god they were celebrating.

  Justine was freezing and stood as close as she could to the fire without singeing off her eyelashes. She’d actually gotten crafty and made her own crown of twigs and sparkly garland, but she worried that her head would burst into flames if she got any closer to the bonfire. She waved to a few of her creatively hatted T&B customers as she waited for Ruth to show up.

  Luis joined her next to the flames. “Hey, stranger, we miss seeing you at Monty’s,” he said. “When will you and Spence be back in town full-time?”

  “Hey, Luis! Soon enough,” she replied and felt bad when she realized that she hoped it wasn’t true. She quickly changed the subject. “Did you hear your lady is coming tonight? Maybe you two should finally talk or something?”

  “Oh, don’t you worry about that,” Luis said with a smile. “We’ve definitely been, um, communicating.”

  “Wait, what? Why didn’t she tell me?”

  “No, no, it’s not like that. Not yet, anyway. But she’s been spending more time at my counter and I’ve been cooking all my specialties for her, so we’re basically married now.” He bobbed his head, suddenly sheepish. “Do you think I should ask her out?”

  Justine swatted his arm. “Why are you even asking me that? She’s been waiting for you to ask.”

  “For real?” His grin was infectious. “Okay, tonight. For you, Jus.” He held out his fist and Justine bumped hers against it. He craned his neck and scanned the crowd as he walked away, a man on a mission.

  She spotted Ruth and her husband, Patrick, straining to kick two massive tree stumps toward the fire. Ruth was wearing exaggerated black eye makeup and two swirling black horns that started at her hairline and swooped around her ears and made her look like an evil mountain ram.

  “Hey, Teen, we brought you a chair,” Ruth said, pointing to Patrick as he flipped it onto its wide side in an open space by the fire. “Sit!”

  “Where are you going to sit, Patrick?” Justine asked. She always enjoyed spending time with Ruth’s husband.

  “No rest for the wicked tonight,” he answered. “I’m on kid duty; Ruth has the night off. Where are those two anyway?”

  Ruth stood on top of her stump, adjusted the curling black horns on the side of her head, and surveyed the crowd. “There. Throwing napkins into the fire. Wait, now Dillon is trying to attach a flaming napkin to a branch. Could you go deal with them, please?” She sighed as she watched him trot away. “How did I get so lucky?”

  Justine laughed. “He’s the best. But where’s his headdress?”

  “Oh, you didn’t see his nubs? He’s got these tiny baby horns glued to his forehead, right by his hairline. Like Pan. Kids have ’em too. They look like little demons, which is very on-brand these days.”

  “Let me guess; you made them.”

  Ruth nodded. “Bam, new revenue stream. Cosplayers eat it up! Who knew there’s a market for horns?”

  “Wait, did I hear you say revenue stream?” Sienna said, sliding in between them. She was the only smart one in the crowd, in a cozy octopus knit cap, complete with tentacles hanging down to her shoulders.

  “She’s making horns now.” Justine pointed at Ruth.

  “Ooh, want!”

  Ruth and Justine slid over on their stumps to make room for her to join them in the middle.

  “How was T&B today?” Sienna asked Justine. She’d had a week off of The Eighteenth and it felt strange spending so much time behind the counter again.

  “Not bad, actually.”

  “And have you noticed that it’s been a trend lately? A string of not-bad days?” Sienna looked hopeful.

  Sienna had been implementing changes at Tricks & Biscuits since she’d been spending more time there while Justine was on set. Little things like switching up the product placement on the floor, adding a sale shelf, and putting bright green fifty-percent-off stickers on boxes of food and treats that were about to expire were simple shifts that seemed to be having an impact.

  “I have, and I know you’re the reason. What would I do without you?”

  “Aww.” Sienna bumped her shoulder against Justine. “Thank you!”

  “Tell us what’s happening next on the show,” Ruth said, winding her hair around one of her horns. “I’m desperate for gossip, because hearing about the parking meter swap-out drama ain’t cutting it for me.”

  “What’s next is the location shoot, in Maryland, and I’m absolutely shitting my pants.”

  “Why?” Sienna asked. “I thought Spencer has been doing great lately.”

  Justine sighed. “Being on location is different. I met an old-timer professional trainer and he said dogs always do worse on location. He told me his dog ran away, and that dog was so well trained he seemed animatronic. Spencer needs to be off leash for the shot, and it’s at night. In an unfamiliar place.” She shook her head. “Oh yeah, there’s also a stream.”

  A cheer went up on the far side of the bonfire and the flames shot higher.

  “Can’t you keep him on leash, and then they edit it out?” Ruth asked. She held her hands out in front of her to warm them.

  “Trust me, they’re not going to waste the budget to do special effects on my tiny little scene. They’re expecting him to do it without a problem. My Humane Federation friend said I should bring someone with me to help, just in case. But I know neither of you can do it, so I’m out of luck.”

  “Wait, what?” Sienna grabbed Justine’s arm. “That is so weird! I did a reading on you a few days ago, and now it totally makes sense.”

  “Do I want to know why you’re pulling tarot cards on me again?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough. But there was one card in this reading that I couldn’t figure out. Now I understand.” A laugh bubbled out of her. “Wow, tarot never lies, man.”

  “Are you going to tell me?” Justine demanded.

  “Right! Okay, it was an upright Wheel of Fortune card.”

  “I like the sound of that,” Justine murmured.

  “It’s not what you think. In this pull the significance was about being open to support from others around you. It’s so perfect now
that I see it!” She paused. “Ask the DILF to help you in Maryland!”

  Justine choked on her beer. “Not possible. He works so much, he can’t get away.”

  But the thought had crossed her mind. More than once.

  “I don’t know, I think our little witch is onto something. The man gets vacation days, doesn’t he?” Ruth asked.

  “And what makes you think he’d want to waste one on me?”

  “Didn’t I tell you about the last time I pulled cards for you?” Sienna asked breathlessly. “They said that the two of you are—”

  Justine threw her hand up to stop Sienna. “Ruth did, and it’s not going to happen. Trust me, Griffin doesn’t want a relationship with me. And I’m still on my hiatus.”

  “Asking him to go makes a ton of sense, though,” Ruth said as she adjusted her position on the stump. “Obviously, Spencer likes him and trusts him, so he would be great to have with you, just in case something went wrong. Plus, you said he’s an Anderson fan, so you can use him as leverage.”

  “Come on, ask him!” Sienna cheered. “The tarot knows what’s up! Do it!”

  “Can’t hurt to just ask,” Ruth added. “The worst he can say is no.”

  Justine sighed. “Oh my God, you are such a mom.”

  “Text him. Right now.” Ruth leaned over and started frisking her jacket pockets for her phone.

  “Would you stop it?” She slapped Ruth’s hands away. “I’ll text him when I’m ready. If I decide to ask him.”

  “Promise?” Sienna asked.

  “I promise to consider it.”

  It was enough of a commitment that Ruth and Sienna backed off.

  Justine glared into the flames and crossed her fingers that Griffin would say yes.

  chapter twenty-nine

  Spencer was leaning against the back seat of Griffin’s Volkswagen SUV, panting. He was doped up on his usual herbal antianxiety drops and wrapped in an Ace bandage that hit his acupressure points, but he seemed happier than usual to be in a car, probably because Griffin and Justine were side by side in the front.

  Justine leaned over and looked at the dashboard. “Since you wouldn’t let me drive, I’m paying for gas.” She pointed at the gauge. “We should stop soon.”

  “There was no way I was going to spend three hours with my knees by my ears in that micro-car of yours. And yes, we can stop. I’m sort of hungry, are you?”

  “Please confirm that I’m paying for gas. You took the day off to help me; it’s the least I can do.”

  “Okay, all right!” Griffin exclaimed. “Yes, you can pay for gas. I’ll put premium in if it makes you feel better. But can I at least get some food?”

  “Yes, please. I’m starving. Usually I don’t stop because I hate leaving Spence in the car, but since there’s two of us we can.”

  It wasn’t just hunger pangs she was dealing with. The butterflies in her stomach had a few different classifications. Some were dedicated to Spencer’s responsiveness and the pressure of the shoot, but just as many were due to spending the whole day with Griffin.

  She’d texted him the day after the bonfire and he’d called her back immediately. She could tell by the excitement in his voice that he was thrilled she’d asked, which made her feel less awful for needing him. Now that she was beside him it felt even more right that they were doing it together.

  Griffin drove to the closest gas station and hopped out of the car before Justine could give him her credit card. He left his keys in the ignition, so she climbed over his seat, nailing her knee on the armrest, and rolled down the window right as he was reaching into his wallet.

  “Hey!”

  “Whoops, almost forgot,” he replied, smiling a giant dimpled fake smile at her. He took the card from her hand and bowed. “Thank you, Justine. I appreciate it.”

  “Um-hm,” she said, shooting him another look before she climbed over to her seat.

  Spencer whined from the back. He glanced at Justine, then out the window at Griffin pumping gas.

  “He’ll be back in a sec, Spence. Don’t worry.”

  He whined louder, so Justine leaned over to Griffin’s seat again to punch the rear window button. She rolled it down a few inches and Spencer stuck his head out, snuffling loudly.

  “Oh, hey, bud,” Griffin said, walking over to Spencer. “You doing okay?” He stroked Spencer’s head and lowered his voice. “We’re almost there. Don’t worry, you’re okay.” A pause, then a whisper. “I love you, bud. Do you know that?”

  Justine continued to hold her phone as though she were reading it but peeked at them out of the corner of her eye. Griffin had his eyes closed and he was kissing Spencer’s head. Spencer looked equally drunk in love with his chin resting on Griffin’s shoulder and his tail wagging slowly.

  “I love you so much,” he whispered again. He took Spencer’s head in his hands and gave him a final kiss. “My best boy.”

  The prickle in her nose caught Justine off guard. There was room in Spencer’s heart for both of them. Spencer gave a final low wag as he watched Griffin get back into the car.

  “Your card,” he said, handing it to her as he settled into his seat. “I filled it to the brim with super extra-premium ultra. Now can we grab some takeout over there?” He pointed at a small Mexican restaurant that bordered the gas station.

  “Works for me. I’ll run in and you can wait in the car with him?”

  “Nope, I’ll get it because otherwise you’ll pay again.”

  Justine huffed at him, but she knew it was pointless to battle. Fifteen minutes later he came out loaded down with bags.

  “How should we do this?” he asked, juggling the bags on his lap and the divider between them. “This is going to get messy and it’s a little too chilly to eat outside.”

  Spencer was already drooling over their shoulders with his eyes on the prize. Justine knew that the meal was going to be a nonstop assault of sad looks and whining because of Griffin’s habit of sharing every meal with Spencer.

  “I know—let’s open the back and let Spencer hang outside on the leash, and we can spread out in back,” Justine suggested.

  “Works for me,” Griffin said, repacking the bags.

  Griffin moved the car to the rear of the restaurant’s lot to an area bordering a grassy patch. Justine took Spencer for a quick pee break, then put him on the fifteen-foot line and climbed into the back of the car, where Griffin was unpacking the overflowing take-out bags. With the residual heat from their drive keeping the car warm plus her down jacket, it wasn’t a bad spot to have a Mexican picnic. She crossed her legs and made room in front of her for lunch.

  “How much did you buy? I asked for a taco, not the entire menu.”

  “Well, they gave me free chips and salsa, and I got you three tacos, not one, because the lady said they’re small, and I bought myself a burrito for now, and then I got some cinnamon churros for us for later. Oh, and drinks.” He pointed at the cups sitting on the wheel well, then positioned himself so that he was against the seat back and his knees were cranked up awkwardly.

  “Is it that obvious that I’m not a one-taco kind of girl?” she asked as she unwrapped her first one and took a massive bite.

  “Your Honor, let the record reflect that the witness is pleading the Fifth.” Griffin bit into his burrito and pointed to his full mouth.

  Justine laughed.

  They sat eating in silence and watched Spencer nose around the grass.

  “He really is the best dude,” Griffin said quietly.

  “He is. Thanks again for helping us today. Sorry we had to leave so early this morning, but you know he needs time to recover. And I want time to get to know the location.”

  “No prob. Happy to help Spencer out.”

  Another car pulled into the lot and parked a few feet away even though the entire parking lot was open. A gu
y in a baseball cap and windbreaker got out and jogged to the restaurant, running close to where Spencer was standing. Spencer locked in on the man, clocking his every move, then launched into a fit of barking with his tail held high.

  “I should’ve been on top of him.” Justine grabbed her taco and hopped out of the car and walked to where Spencer stood freaking out.

  “Hey, Spence, you’re fine,” she said in a soothing voice, even though his reaction left her shaking. She walked closer and got him to look away by feeding him a tiny bite of tortilla. “It’s all good. Hey, Spence, watch.” Spencer let out one more grumbly woof in the guy’s direction but managed to tear his eyes away from the retreating figure and look at Justine’s face. She smiled at him and gave him another morsel, punching down the anxiety she felt swirling inside. “Good boy,” she said softly.

  Spencer’s posture relaxed and he started wagging again. Justine gave him one more small bite of taco and a quick massage, then walked back to the car.

  “What was that?” Griffin asked, looking shocked at Spencer’s behavior. “He was never weird about people when he was with me. It’s not an option in the city. That reaction was different than the way he was barking at the garbage-can guy. Are you worried?” He paused. “Spence actually looked dangerous that time, like he’d bite if he could.”

  Justine felt an involuntary shudder pass through her as a vision of Spencer latched on to a man’s arm swam into focus.

  “Hey, are you okay?” Griffin asked. “Your face is white.”

  Justine knew she was eventually going to tell Griffin. Back when she was worried that he was angling to take Spencer back, she’d kept the incident in her back pocket, ready to spring the story on him when it was time for the big guns. To prove that he couldn’t compete with her bond with Spencer. But now, even though Griffin seemed to gracefully accept that Spencer was hers, she thought he deserved to hear the story of how her dog had saved her.

  She cleared her throat. “Something happened. To me. To us, I mean. That’s why he did that. They call it ‘one-trial learning.’ One major impactful incident sets the precedent for the rest of the responses.” Talking about it in abstract terms helped. She willed herself to keep going, but just thinking about the day made the words dry up.