by Inda Herwood
Standing up from my last water refill, I find Jagger in the doorway, refusing to step over the threshold; a green look on his face as he studies the cats. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone who disliked animals so much.
Just another thing we don’t have in common.
Hanna asks him, ignoring his odd behavior, “Okay then. What’s your name, non-volunteer?”
He closes his eyes, slowly opening them again, like he’s nauseous or something. “What?”
Hanna and I look at each other.
“Are you going to be sick?” I ask, kind of worried he’s about to puke all over the cats. I do not want to clean that up.
“Not sure.” He coughs into his jacket sleeve. “How do you do this?” he asks us both.
“Do what?”
“Be around these things all day.” He gives the cats a wincing look.
I shake my head at him, Hanna chuckling as she continues petting cats.
Realizing I haven’t introduced her yet, I say, “Jagger, this is Hanna, another of our volunteers. Hanna, this is Jagger Wells.”
He nods at her. Barely.
She smiles, amused. “Well if you’re not an aspiring volunteer, then what is it that you do, Jagger?”
Good question. It was the one thing on his file that I couldn’t find, and arguably the one I wanted to know about the most.
He sneezes.
Feeling a tail swish at my legs, I look down to see who wants my attention while we wait for Jagger to get over his fur ball attack. Staring up at me is Twinkle, a beautiful gray short hair and one of our long time residents. Her owners brought her in when they had to move across the country and couldn’t take her with them. With age, she’s lost an eye to cancer, her movements slowed from arthritis, but she still loves a cuddle, which I never refuse her.
Picking her up, I hold her with one hand while I scratch her ear with the other. Her eye closes in contentment, purring happily.
“What, do you have some kind of weird animal mojo these things pick up on or something?” Just as Jagger says this, his eyes watching Twinkle and I uncomfortably, Keke, one of our feistier kitties, walks up to him, sniffing his shoes curiously. The cat hisses at him when they make eye contact.
I do a good job of holding in my laughter.
“It’s true,” Hanna says, nodding at me. “This girl here can make just about any animal fall in love with her. Even an ornery, pot-belly pig once.”
“Hey, Walter was just misunderstood,” I defend, making Hanna snort.
Looking back at Jagger, I don’t think he heard us. He was too busy flicking his hand at Keke, saying “Shoo.” It only succeeds at making the cat raise its hackles at him.
Yeah. I should get him out of here.
Taking Twinkle with me, I tell Hanna I’ll be back in a little while, leaving the cats to their meal as I walk back out the door, knowing Jagger will happily follow.
Finding our way to the front desk again, I turn around to face him. At least some of the color has returned to his bronze skin with no longer being around the felines. “Jagger, I –”
“So, how did the tour go?” Sue asks as she magically reappears, her smile too suggestive.
“I don’t know,” he says, itching at his eyes, which are slightly red now. “Is there more to it than just cats and dogs?” I swear he shivers at saying their names.
“Why of course there’s more!” she says enthusiastically, totally missing his sarcasm. “Cyvil, why don’t you show him the running area for the dogs out back? There’s some beautiful trees to sit under, too.” No joke, she actually wiggles her white eyebrows at me. While he’s looking.
Kill me now.
“Better idea. Why don’t you show him, and I’ll go die in a hole somewhere?” I suggest, my smile full of plastic.
He chuckles.
I ignore it.
Sue gives me that disappointed, heartbroken look again, the one that always makes me crumble. But I’m not letting it get to me this time. I’m not.
Her eyes turn sad, pleading. Grandmotherly.
Dammit.
“Fine.” I hold Twinkle a little bit closer, and reading my anger, she rubs her nose against my hand, trying to make me feel better.
Walking past my traitorous fairy godmother, whom is going to get an earful from me later, I lead Jagger out into the backyard, hearing him tell Sue it was a pleasure to meet her as we go. She returns the sentiment in a syrupy voice, saying the pleasure was all hers. Jeez, why doesn’t she just marry him for me?
Stepping out onto the grass, I breathe a lungful of clean air, helping to calm me. It’s a beautiful day, the sun shining down through the canopies of the large oak trees, the wind warm and soothing. I close my eyes to it all as I sit down on the closest bench, a perfect overlook of the dog park. I get so caught up in the comfort of it that I nearly forget I have company.
“You really love this place, don’t you?” he says quietly, almost to himself.
I turn to look at him, placing Twinkle down between us. She eventually curls herself into a ball and quickly falls asleep with me stroking her head.
“I do,” I admit.
“Is that what you want to do then? Help animals?”
I think about it, then nod. “For the time being, yes.”
“And what does your future want?” He looks sincere, like he actually wants to know. And that’s when my wall goes back up. I almost forgot who he is, why he’s here, and that this entire situation is on someone else’s behalf.
“Not a wedding,” I answer honestly, gently. Truth be told, I’m not a bitch. Okay, sometimes I’m a bitch. But Jagger doesn’t deserve a harsh let down. There’s no need to be rude about it, like I was earlier. I just want it to get through to him that this isn’t what I want, what I had planned for myself. It’s not him I’m turning away, but the future he represents. The one my father has set for me.
He nods slowly, looking out over the park. I can’t read his expression.
“I get it,” he says after a minute. “You have a lot of living to do yet.”
This makes my brows narrow. “And you don’t?”
He says nothing.
That’s when I decide to ask the big question. The one that’s been on my mind since my parents told me about my impending marriage.
“Why are you doing this?”
He finally looks at me, and I almost wish he hadn’t. Because he looks…lost. Sad. But then he schools his expression and it’s gone, replaced by a false mask of innocence. “Doing what?”
“What has my father promised you to marry me?”
He knew what I was asking from the beginning, but he still pretends to be surprised by the question. “What makes you think he promised me anything?”
I give him an insulted look, because I am. I’m not stupid. I know there’s no way a guy like him would marry a complete stranger without some kind of bounty in return. “It’s basic logic, eye for an eye,” I say instead of, because no one would willfully marry a monster.
He pauses for too long, stares at the ground too hard. He knows that I know the truth, and there’s no point in lying anymore. We might as well be open and honest about it all.
“My father’s company is going under,” he says eventually, still looking at the ground, jaw tight. Maybe even slightly ashamed. “Your dad offered to bail him out if I married you.”
I should be surprised, hurt. Disappointed. But the fact that my father used me as a commodity isn’t as shocking as what he just implied. “So you’re willing to marry me just to save your dad’s business?” I have to say, I didn’t see that coming. I figured my father had found him randomly and offered him a buyout. Not his father. He’s literally getting nothing out of this deal for himself.
“I love my family,” is all he says in answer, looking out at the park again, and I nod. Because I get it. I really do.
“Jagger,” I say, feeling my throat go dry. I hate to do this, especially after hearing about his real reason for going th
rough with my father’s plan, but I have to. “I respect your selflessness, your loyalty to your family. And I’m sorry about your father’s business. If I had any money myself I would happily give it to you to replace my father’s deal, but…I can’t marry you.”
What I never expected from that depressing little speech was to get a smile out of him. Well, not so much a smile, but more of a grin. He aims it at me. “You’re a capable girl. I respect that. I also respect your decision. It’s completely your choice, no matter what your father says or mine.” He pauses, hands knotting themselves together in front of him. “I guess what I’m saying is…we don’t have to do this right now. We’re not getting married tomorrow. You can have as much time as you want. All I’m asking is that you give it a chance. Get to know me, let me get to know you. And maybe – maybe we can be friends.”
-5-
Another Deal
Honestly, I wasn’t even expecting that to come out of my mouth. I was going to tell her that I would back off, leave her alone. Put the whole deal to rest, seeing as how adamant she was about her decision. And I’m not the kind of guy that hounds a girl until she says yes. But then I remembered the look on my father’s face in painful clarity, the hope he had when I said I would do this for him. There haven’t been many times in my life where I’ve made him proud, or gave him anything in return for all that he’s done for me. The least I can do now is try until I can’t anymore.
She has a conflicted look to her face, her eyes squinting under the sun. Her hand continues to methodically pet the cat, as though on autopilot. She never expected me to try, I slowly begin to understand as she looks at her shoes. I could see it on her face when she came in this morning and saw me sitting there. And when I wouldn’t go away while she was doing her chores. She didn’t even seem surprised when I told her the truth, that my intentions were never pure to begin with.
It made me feel even worse.
She wasn’t insulted that her father essentially used her as currency, that he thinks she’ll never be able to find someone to marry her unless they get something out of the deal other than love. And looking at her, at seeing her passion for these retched animals, at her love for Sue even though I could tell she was annoying her, I can tell she’s a good person, a kind soul. One day, I’m sure she’d find someone that wasn’t as selfish as myself and wanted her just for her. It’s too bad her parents don’t have that same kind of faith.
“If I say no, you’re just going to keep bugging me until I say yes, aren’t you?”
“Possibly.” I smirk, and she shakes her head with an annoyed smile. “No, really. If you don’t want this, then I’ll go away. But remember, all I’m asking for is a chance. Nothing else has to happen.”
“Unless you want your money, that is.”
Yeah, that small detail. I try not to let it panic me that I only have a month to change her mind. “I’m not thinking about that right now.” Lie. “We can just take it a day at a time.”
She still looks indecisive, untrustworthy of a guy with a motive, and I don’t blame her. But at the same time, I wonder what I can do to make her say yes. And then I think of something.
“If I bought you some kind of animal, would that sweeten the deal?”
She pauses for a moment, seeing if I’m serious, and then she’s bursting out in laughter, bent over at the knees while she tries to breathe through it. The cat sitting between us instantly springs up and jumps, panicked as its claws latch onto my thigh. It would hurt if I wasn’t wearing jeans.
“No, no, it’s okay, sweetie. I’m sorry,” she giggles, picking the cat back up, petting it reassuringly behind the ears. And just like that, it melts in her hands, calming down instantly.
“So is that a yes or an emphatic no?” I ask while I inspect my now ripped jeans. The cat put a perfect four-hole punch in the side of them, just missing my skin.
“No,” her voice says quietly, in stark contrast to her outburst just a moment ago.
“No, I can’t buy you one of these beasts, or no, you don’t want to be around me?” Man, I just bought these things last week. I give the cat a dirty look.
It ignores me.
“No, you can’t bribe me with animals, and no, we can’t be friends.”
I look at her, surprised.
I had really thought that would work.
“Why not? What harm can it do?” I ask, seeing for the first time the look in her eyes, the pained expression of her face. And the scar. That horrible scar. I try to imagine her without it, erase the jagged line in my mind’s eye. As I do, I start to see how beautiful she must have been at one point, how even her skin was, how bright her eyes would have been without the constant wariness behind them. Not to say she isn’t a pretty girl now. Her hair is a natural shade of auburn that shines under the sun, her pink lips shaped like a bow. And then there’s her laugh. It’s full, uninhibited. Nothing like the girls I’m used to. They giggle, titter, pretend everything is funny. I can tell when Cyvil laughs, it’s a rare thing that requires all of her when it happens.
She bites her lip, not looking at me. “The harm is that I could start to believe it.”
Wait, what? I don’t get it. “Believe what?”
She’s still looking down, eyes hesitant but voice clear when she explains, “Believe that you actually like me for me and not the check you’d be getting in return.”
Ouch.
Then again, I can’t really argue with that. Because she’s right. I’m only here because of my love for my father, my motivation to save his income. I can see how she would be constantly doubting my intentions, even if it was only friendship. For now.
Suddenly she’s standing, the damn cat purring in her arms as she looks down at me, the sun crossing her face at an angle. It showcases the smooth side of her face, putting the other side in darkness. As the light turns her eyes to the color of caramel, and her hair into an inferno, I’m distracted enough that I barely hear her when she says, “Goodbye, Jagger. I’m truly sorry.”
And then she’s gone.
Cyvil
I’m surprised at how hard it was to say no to him. And that’s what gave me the confirmation that what I was doing was the right thing. I can see myself getting caught up in his smiles, that easy attitude, those eyes. I would forget the real reason he was there, giving them to me in the first place. It wouldn’t be real. At least not for him. And then there are my principles. I will never say that I need a man to survive in this world. Because I don’t, and I refuse to give my parents the satisfaction.
I could practically feel his surprise as I walked away with Twinkle still in my arms, my heart beating too fast for reasons I can’t explain. It would have been so easy to say yes. To marry him, possibly be friends, go to college and save the world. So easy, but not right.
“How’s it going with Hunky out there?” Sue asks with Hanna standing next to her, both bent over the counter on their elbows, eyes eager for any piece of info. That is until they see the lack of humor in my own. Immediately Sue goes into grandmother mode, walking around the counter to enfold me in a hug. Her voice is worried when she asks, “What is it, sweetie?”
“Nothing, I’m fine.” Forcing myself to pull away, I tell her conflicted expression, “If he comes in again, don’t tell him I’m here.” Before she or Hanna even open their mouths, I know what they’re about to ask: Why? But I cut them off. “I don’t want to explain, just… Please. For me. I don’t want him coming around here anymore.”
“Of course, whatever you want.” Sue quickly agrees, her hand giving my forearm a squeeze.
Knowing he’ll be coming back in at any moment, I scurry into the back room, holding Twinkle a little bit tighter.
***
I remember a time when my father wasn’t like this; where he was a kind man, one who would have given Jagger’s father the money without conditions. But over the years he has slowly turned callous, less forgiving, a business man through and through. When I was little, before the incident, he
always told me that there was nothing I couldn’t do as long as I put my whole heart into it. And even after I came home, battered and broken, and he no longer looked at me like his mini-self, I still had hope that he believed in me like he had when I was whole.
That hope slowly decayed, and then it finally fell apart.
“Can’t you give them a small loan, just to keep them going for a few months?” I ask my father across his desk, knowing the answer before he opens his mouth. That look of blasé annoyance is one I’m slowly growing familiar with.
“Cyvil, when I make a deal, I don’t go back on it. I’m sorry you had to find out the truth like you did, but it still doesn’t change anything. No marriage, no money. Mr. Wells knows that and accepted it when I gave him the conditions.”
All I can do is frown at my father, at the mechanical way his eyes focus on the computer screen next to him. For an entire week I’ve slowly been eaten away by guilt. Not for my refusal, but because of what my refusal means to Jagger and his father. Searching his family’s business online, I was both glad and saddened when I saw just how many charities they’ve helped over the years, and how that would all be over soon, seeing as how their stock has dipped nearly forty dollars over the last four months. With my father’s teachings, I would estimate that they don’t have more than a few months left before they go bankrupt. Knowing myself, I wouldn’t be able to live with that on my conscience, even if it wasn’t directly my fault, but my father’s. I at least had to try.
And so I ate crow in order to help a man I can’t marry.
“But what about all the good their company does for others, the charities they’ve helped, the ones they’ve started? You can’t just let them go bankrupt because I refuse to be sold.” There’s no point in skirting around the issue anymore. This is the reality. Might as well be honest about it.