You Make Me Tremble

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You Make Me Tremble Page 16

by Karis Walsh


  “We won’t be here long,” Iris said when they pulled up in front of a blue house with white trim. “I just want to see the yard and house and make sure Blackjack is going to a good home. Then we can get lunch in town.”

  “With plenty of alcohol to help me through the return flight,” Casey finished for her. She slowly pulled her hand away from Iris’s thigh, putting some pressure on her fingertips as they grazed against the rough denim.

  “Or we can skip lunch and see how fast Sean can get us back to the island.” Iris’s voice deepened slightly and Casey smiled in response.

  “I’ve heard that chartered boats are even faster than planes,” Casey offered as they got out of the car and walked up the path leading to the house. “Faster and safer.”

  Iris laughed and rang the doorbell. A small boy answered the door before Casey could protest that she really wasn’t joking about searching for an alternative form of transportation.

  “Did you bring our dog?” the boy asked, scanning the empty space behind Iris and Casey.

  “Not yet,” Iris said. “He asked me to come here first, to make sure you’re ready to have him come home.”

  Casey felt a strange sense of disconnect as soon as they walked into the house. She couldn’t help but wonder if Iris would do a home check like this for Chert one day, if his owners never claimed him. The new people would probably change his name. And they might not figure out the exact spot behind his right ear where he loved to be scratched.

  Casey sat on the edge of the couch and listened as the parents tearfully told the story of losing their family pet a year ago and finally feeling ready to welcome another one into their house. The home was perfect, with a bed and dog bowls and toys already in place and ready for the Lab. The yard was fenced and grassy, complete with a spirited little boy for Blackjack to play with. The entire situation was about as far as one could get from Casey’s cramped city apartment.

  She distracted herself from the threatening gloom of sadness by watching the couple’s older son Chris during the interview. He seemed awkward and nervous as he tried to maintain the bored façade required of a teenager. While they were inspecting the yard and Iris was distracted by the younger boy’s incessant questions, Casey quietly moved over to where the teen was leaning against the sliding glass door with an ineffective air of indifference.

  “Queenie was your dog, wasn’t she?” Casey asked. The parents and the little boy, Kyle, had been weepy during the story of her illness, but Chris had remained nearly expressionless. Casey had at first thought he seemed cold, but then she saw signs indicating what a tremendous effort he was making to seem that way, with his tight jaw, reddening eyes that wouldn’t remain focused on any one object for more than a few seconds, and hands clenched tightly in his lap.

  He nodded but didn’t look at her. “My parents got her when I was a baby,” he said simply, and Casey filled in the rest of the story, the years of play and companionship they had shared. She guessed that he was feeling some resentment right now, because his younger brother was just starting a journey that had ended for him last year. She also suspected that he had missed having a dog and a part of him was excited to have another one in the house. Of course, if those suspicions were correct, then he must have a large dose of guilt added to the mix. She wondered if there was a way to help him get to a point where he could accept the new animal into his life.

  “She sounds like she was a wonderful dog. Look, I know you can never replace her, and that you don’t even want to try. But she had a great home here where she was loved and happy. Blackjack’s never had a place like this or a family like yours.”

  While she had worked at the shelter with Leo, he had shared stories about the animals she met and had shown her pictures of how they looked when they were first brought to Iris’s place. She knew what it would mean for the dog to be here. She especially knew what it would mean to Iris to place one of her beloved animals in a forever home.

  “You can love him, you know, and no one would ever think you’ve forgotten Queenie. They’ll just think how great it is for Blackjack to finally be somewhere safe, with a new family.”

  He cleared his throat like he was about to speak, but he just gave her a jerky nod instead and walked back into the house. Iris and the parents looked up with worried faces when he left, and all Casey could do was shrug. She didn’t know if she’d said the right things or the completely wrong ones.

  She didn’t see him again before they left, but Iris and the rest of the family made plans for her to bring Blackjack the next weekend. Casey would be back on the mainland by then, but she wished she could see the look on Kyle’s face when his dog arrived, and see if Chris was able to welcome the new family pet with a little enthusiasm.

  She told Iris about their conversation on their way to Victoria. “I’ll bet you would have known exactly what to tell him,” Casey said. She was leaning toward Iris, with her arm resting on the back of Iris’s seat. If she just stretched her fingers a little, they’d tangle in Iris’s hair. She stayed where she was, though, enjoying the anticipatory feeling of being close without actually touching. Sensing some sort of current sparking between them even though there wasn’t any point of contact.

  Iris shook her head and a few strands of hair brushed Casey’s hand. “I doubt it. You gave him an opportunity to see Blackjack’s arrival from the dog’s point of view, not through the haze of his own pain and guilt. It’s almost like you gave him permission to like Blackjack when his grief might have kept him from being able to do so, because he deserves to have a nice home.”

  “Maybe you can let me know what happens when you deliver him.” This was the first time Casey had made any mention of future contact between her and Iris. She stayed perfectly still, wondering how Iris would react and trying to figure out how she felt about the comment. Did she want to keep in touch? Or would it only hurt worse if they let the relationship linger?

  “I’ll let you know how it goes,” Iris said after a brief pause. She remained quiet then, navigating through the increasingly heavy traffic as they reached downtown Victoria.

  The town had a quaint, European feel to it, with delicate wrought-iron lampposts and ivy-covered buildings, but with bright, contemporary touches as well. Within several blocks, Casey saw a white, clean-lined shopping center at the marina on one side of the street and the elegant Empress Hotel on the other. Horse-drawn carriages ambled down the sidewalk past galleries with modern abstract sculptures and paintings displayed in the windows.

  “It’s coming back to life,” Iris said as she slowed down to pass a carriage covered with flowers like a parade float. “The earthquake did as much damage here as in the San Juans, but you can barely see the effects of it anymore. Except that there aren’t as many pedestrians as usual.”

  She turned onto a side street and parked the car before leading Casey to a small café with a view of the harbor. They held hands again, as naturally as if they’d been dating for weeks. Casey couldn’t remember when she’d felt such a sense of comfort, due to the wonderful feel of having Iris close and to the welcoming and accepting feeling she sensed in the town.

  Whatever happened, however difficult it would be to say good-bye, this trip had been good for her. She was breathing more deeply here. She had been tightly wrapped in a cocoon for a long time, but she had shed it layer by layer until the claustrophobic feeling she had become accustomed to was gone.

  They sat near the window bordered with yellow eyelet fabric curtains and next to a cabinet displaying a collection of blue-and-white Spode china. Prompted by Casey’s questions, Iris described her visits to Victoria during the height of tourist season while they waited for their lunch.

  “I had afternoon tea at the Empress once. Very luxurious. A friend of mine from college married her girlfriend in the rose garden at the hotel and the reception started with a formal tea. Champagne, teensy cucumber sandwiches, and a bowl of local blueberries covered with cream. Yum. I practically begged our waitress for t
he scone recipe, but she said the chef wouldn’t tell. I smuggled one out in my pocket so I could remember what it was like and recreate it.”

  Casey laughed at the image of Iris stuffing her pockets with food during a fancy tea party. “What else did you take? A snack for later in the evening?”

  “Just some chocolate cake, a handful of cookies, and some crustless chicken salad sandwiches. Dancing makes me hungry.”

  “Those must have been some deep pockets.” Casey reached across the table and wrapped her fingers around Iris’s.

  “I wore an overcoat just in case,” Iris said with a laugh as she rubbed her thumb across Casey’s palm. Casey’s ability to breath deep seemed to vanish, wiped away by Iris’s touch. Iris let go when the food arrived and Casey exhaled with a sigh.

  Casey took a sip of her Viennese coffee with its hints of cocoa powder and almond syrup. The scent of the sweet coffee mingled with the heavier brie and chutney from her panini to make an almost perfect combination. She wondered if she should have picked the one Iris had instead, though. Would mozzarella and sun-dried tomatoes blend better with the almond flavor?

  “Are you eyeballing my sandwich?” Iris asked. She took a sip of her tea but kept one hand defensively in front of her plate.

  “Maybe,” Casey admitted. “Don’t worry, though. I’m not going to grab it from you. I was just wondering how it would taste with my coffee.”

  “We can share half and half if you want. I don’t want a repeat of the pot roast incident.”

  Casey laughed. “Only a small piece of potato fell on the floor. And that wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t stabbed at me with your fork.”

  “Remember that the next time you contemplate stealing my food. Here.” She handed Casey half of her panini and swapped it for one with brie.

  Casey spent the rest of the meal laughing and talking with Iris, but a small part of her mind was preoccupied with the exchange. It was such a couple thing to do, like holding hands or sharing inside jokes. Why did it make her nervous to act this way with Iris? She wasn’t supposed to want these things, these indications of closeness. They weren’t things you could measure or trust, and they weren’t going to last because Iris was here and Casey mentally already had one foot back in Seattle, straddling the gulf of space between them.

  She took a bite of Iris’s sandwich, enjoying the mouthwatering tartness of the sun-dried tomato and how good it tasted in combination with the chutney from the other half.

  Sharing like this was easy with lunch. The rest of the time? That’s when it got hard.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Iris sat in the back of the plane on the way home and alternated between writing ideas for greeting cards and watching Casey suffer through a flight lesson from Sean. She didn’t look nearly as ecstatic as Iris felt when she got to fly. Iris had seen quite a few different sides of Casey on this short trip. She was a kaleidoscope of colors and moods, bright and changeable and full of movement.

  She drew a sketch of a solitary person walking along a beach and quickly wrote a free verse note of condolence to go with it. She usually stayed away from bereavement cards because they seemed depressing to her and she never knew what to write. She had a difficult time looking beyond the sadness of the moment, but hearing how Casey had talked to Chris today inspired her. She could see the seeds of hope and possibility Casey planted, and she wanted to capture the same hint of the future while still respecting the pain experienced by the people receiving the cards.

  She managed to finish five sample cards by the time they landed, only two of which had black slashes across them from the times the plane had bounced in turbulence and made her lose control of her pencil. She packed her supplies away and got off the plane. After thanking Sean, she and Casey walked back to her car. She draped her arm across Casey’s shoulders, matching her pace and steps to Casey’s.

  “Did you feel better on this part of the trip?”

  “Better, as in even more relieved to be alive?” Casey asked. “If so, then yes.”

  Iris bumped Casey with her hip and sent her a few steps off course. “I meant better, as in less scared by the wee little plane.” She ended the sentence in a high baby-talk tone.

  “You’d better watch out,” Casey said, looking like she wanted to keep her face stern, but laughing instead. “I’ll find something you don’t like and see how you feel about getting up close and personal with it. How are you with spiders?”

  “Love them.”

  “Snakes?”

  Iris put her bag in the backseat and got in the car. “Nature’s mousetraps. I’d have a dozen as pets if I had the space.”

  Casey thought for a moment. “Heights?”

  “Isn’t that one of yours? Or would you be just as nervous in a plane that’s taxiing along the ground?”

  “It’s not the height. I’ve scaled cliffs before, and it’s never bothered me.”

  “What is it about flying, then?” On the list of Casey facets she had seen today, her tension associated with the plane trip had been the most curious to Iris. Casey seemed good at keeping her emotions private, and Iris had a feeling that she could have seemed cool as a seasoned pilot during their trip if she’d chosen to. But she had let Iris see her weakness. Maybe because she wanted them to be closer, and she wasn’t trying to hide from Iris. Or maybe she was just confident and strong enough to feel comfortable in those moments when she wasn’t.

  “I don’t really know what it is. Sean might be partly right about the loss of control. My first time in a plane was horrible, and I guess you never forget the feeling.”

  Iris laced her fingers with Casey’s, their hands resting on Casey’s lap. “Why was it bad?”

  Casey looked out the passenger window and exhaled with a puff of air. “My grandparents had come to get me after my mom died. Dad had a work conference or something so he wasn’t there, and I was with these two people I’d never met before. Everything was awful. I had been crying for days and flying hurt my sinuses. I had only met my father a few times, so I was basically leaving home to live with strangers.”

  Iris glanced over at Casey and saw a frown drawing her eyebrows together. “It’s all a fog of pain and sadness,” Casey said. “I think I remember asking for a dog on the plane, but I don’t know why I would have asked then. I guess I was confused by all the changes.”

  A small child, with her whole world ripped out from under her. Iris was surprised Casey handled flying as well as she did, given her early experience with it. She lifted their joined hands and brushed her lips across Casey’s knuckles.

  The gesture was easy to make, given how unfamiliar it was for Iris. She thought back to old girlfriends and couldn’t remember touching them like this, offering unspoken support. She had tended to date women who didn’t need anything from her because she had spent too many years failing to meet expectations and she was tired of it. But where she’d expected to find mutual independence, she had instead found women who decided she was the needy one. They would breeze into her life and try to make her something she wasn’t. Iris usually made a weak effort to change—more to keep a sense of peace between them than because she believed she needed to. The transformation never lasted long, though. She was Iris.

  She was always going to be Iris.

  Casey, however, made her more Iris. Just like she saw different sides to Casey, she had been noticing more dimensions of her own coming to light since they had met. They were all recognizable to her, and not someone else’s idea of who she should be.

  She was writing more poetry these days. Cooking was fun again, not just a fill-the-freezer chore. Iris had also been inspired by their trip to Orcas. She was quite aware she’d never have the same degree of interest in piles of rocks that Casey had, but she had recaptured her love for these islands and the opportunities they offered for finding peace and beauty in nature. She needed to get out on the island more, taking the shelter dogs on hikes and for runs on the beach.

  She felt a twist of sadne
ss inside. Casey had helped her rediscover these passions, and Iris was determined not to lose them again, but she’d be on her own from here on. She didn’t need Casey to motivate her, of course, but she had more fun with her than she did alone. She liked sharing meals with Casey and fighting over scraps like two hungry dogs, watching her expression change as she read Iris’s poetry, and learning interesting bits and pieces about the geologic history of the island.

  Casey squeezed her hand as if sensing Iris’s lonely thoughts. She might be having them, too. Iris had absolutely no doubt that Casey would miss things about being on the island. She clearly loved Chert and the other residents, and Iris had even caught her sneaking treats to the Twins. She obviously liked Iris’s company, and the attraction between them was undeniable. Iris had long suspected that Casey’s life in Seattle was likely filled with noise and busyness, but not a lot of warmth and companionship like she’d found at the shelter.

  They drove the last few minutes of the short drive in a silence filled with soft touches and constant contact. When they got back to the shelter, Casey got out of the car and gave a shrill whistle. Iris heard an answering woof, and then the clatter of pebbles as Chert tore around the corner of the kennels and across the gravel lot to greet Casey. He skidded over to Iris for some attention before running back to Casey and sitting close by her side.

  “Feeding time?” Casey asked.

  “Soon.” Iris nodded. “I should check the kittens first, though.” Both Leo and Agatha had sent her text updates throughout the afternoon, but Iris wanted to see all the animals for herself.

  The three of them went into the bungalow, and Chert waited on his side of the baby gate while Iris and Casey looked in on the gray cat and her nursing litter. Casey reached in and ran a gentle finger over the furry bodies, and Iris stood behind her with a hand on her shoulder. Casey straightened and turned, catching Iris around the waist before she could step back. Casey pulled her into a hug, and Iris felt her give a trembling sigh.

 

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