by B. D. Gates
I started talking. Fast. "Tess, I'm sorry. I'd left it in the console and I just didn't think about calling, or that you'd be calling me. I was already on my way home when I realized it was dead. Look, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I haven't had to 'check in' with anyone in a very, very long time, like, since I was a kid, and it really isn't something I automatically think of doing, but I promise, I promise, from now on, if I go anywhere, I'll have my phone and it will be charged."
Tess grew still, buried her anger. When she finally spoke, her voice was low, her eyes downcast.
"See, Bishop, here's the thing." She was so quiet. "I was afraid that someone had found you, that they'd killed you and I would never find you, I would never know. So there's that, but then, what would I do with them?" she said, pointing towards the dogs. "To never see you again? Don't you think they'd wonder? That they'd mourn you? I'd never take them to the shelter, maybe Dr. Biggs would take them and place them, but what if they'd get split up? I don't think they'd understand any of that, and I wouldn't want that to happen to them." She paused. "So, you see, Bishop, it's not just about you."
She looked up at me, her eyes shiny.
That Tess felt responsible not only for me but for my animals shouldn't have been such a revelation. For the second time in as many months, Tess had to consider what would happen to my 'kids,' but this time it was based on my not being around anymore. The grocery store crime scene flashed in my head, and I realized that, for Tess, I could have been one more person in her life who wasn't coming home, leaving her with what she'd have to deal with in the aftermath.
Oh, god, Tess, I'm so sorry...
I took a step towards her, closing the gap between us. Looking her square in the eye, I took her hand in mine, pressed the back of it against my chest, over my heart, my voice low. "Tess, I have been such an idiot. I am so sorry. You're right, my disappearing off your radar was careless and selfish, and I promise, from here on, I will have my phone with me at all times. I make that solemn promise to you, and to them," I said, nodding in Rosie and Sophie's direction, "and to Smokey, even though, as a cat, he fully expects my unwavering devotion."
Tess dropped her head and let out a small, soft sob. Moving closer to her, nearly touching now, still holding her hand against my chest, I tipped her head up as one slow-falling tear coursed down her cheek.
"Tess, I really am sorry," I whispered, my fingers still lightly touching her face as I gazed into her brightly-glistening eyes.
Tess didn't speak, her eyes locked on mine. We stood there, not moving, and I smelled her perfume. Soft, sweet. As I looked into her eyes, her anger dissolved and I saw her concern, her kindness, her trauma, her heartbreak, her heart, and it hurt. It was painful, seeing it all at once, seeing Tess in a way that I don't think many people ever had and I wanted to console her, hold her close, kiss away her pain.
Kiss away our pain.
Within a split second of following through, reality pulled me back before I crossed that line, and I broke the spell as I let our hands down slowly to our sides, letting her go as I took a step back. A look I couldn't read flashed across Tess's face and she moved back a step as well.
"So," I said, looking away, swallowing, blinking, trying to break the tension in the room, trying to ground myself, "just to let you know, I've got softball practice this afternoon at four, and I'll be right here until then."
"With your phone charging," Tess quietly added.
"With my phone charging," I agreed, taking it out of my pocket. I crossed the kitchen and picked up the charger plug, connected the phone. It took a few seconds before the chime rang, indicating the phone was indeed taking the charge. I turned and looked at Tess.
"So, I'm set," I said.
"Let's keep it that way."
"Yes, ma'am."
Tess grabbed her jacket off the kitchen chair and strode out the door.
Damn.
Damn.
Damn.
*****
Leaving Bishop standing in the kitchen, Tess had made it into her car before she burst into tears. This night had been hard on her, harder than Bishop could ever know, could ever imagine. Bishop was important to her. She found her intriguing in so many ways and, though Bishop harrassed her, teased and tormented her, she would have mourned the loss of her from her life if she never came home again.
She wiped the tears from her eyes as she started the car.
*****
Practice that afternoon was hell. I felt like I was running in knee deep mud and it showed. Penny, on the other hand, was on top of her game, turning plays and hitting like it was a championship game. I was impressed. I sat down next to her in the dugout.
"I'm impressed," I said to her, smiling.
"Thank you," she replied. "So was I."
I laughed. She was not talking about softball.
"Are we still on for next week?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am. Now just what have you got planned for me?" I asked in return.
"You'll see. I think you'll like it."
I nodded. So far, I'd liked everything Penny had planned for me. I did not think I would be disappointed.
The after-practice practice was better. By then, I'd shaken off the 'drags' I'd felt at the beginning and was now holding my own in the drills. Night had fallen over the field and the lights were turned on so that we could finish. Toward the end, I made a fast throw to first from short and got the runner out. I heard clapping and a call from the stands.
"Way to go, player!"
I shielded my eyes against the lights with my gloved hand, but couldn't see past the shadows. Dr. Biggs, in the circle, turned and looked at me.
"You've got a fan," she said, smiling.
I nodded.
I got home that night, exhausted, fed the dogs, showered and hit the bed. Luckily, tomorrow was Sunday, an 'off' day for work and softball practice, and I could sleep in. The girls climbed up on the bed with me and we all went to sleep.
12
On Monday, I was called to the front. I took off my Wellies, washed my hands, and made my way up through the building. When I opened the door to the reception area, I saw a beautiful, young blonde woman, well-dressed in a light pink suit, very reminiscent of Jackie Kennedy, the pearl necklace included, and a little girl, also blonde and pretty and quite obviously her daughter, who was holding a small Westie on a red leash, whom I recognized as Miz Dottie. Dr. Biggs was standing to the side of this tableau, smiling. She nodded at me, invited me to join them. Before I could take a step in their direction, the little girl dropped the leash and broke away from the group, ran up to me, grabbed me around the waist, and hugged me tight.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," she shouted, bouncing us up and down. Miz Dottie, now free, joined us, turning circles and barking.
I looked at Dr. Biggs. She was still smiling as the lady next to her began to admonish the young girl.
"Now, Annie, indoor voice, please, and let go of the nice lady" Mrs. Jefferson said, her voice soft as honey.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Annie softly repeated, looking up at me, still holding me tight. I couldn't help but grin at the silliness of it all.
Dr. Biggs made introductions all around. Trying to bridge the distance between us, I smiled at Mrs. Jefferson.
"Annie, please, let go of Miss Baxter. I need to speak with her," her mother instructed. I made my way over to Mrs. Jefferson as best I could, considering that Annie and Miz Dottie were still showing me their gratitude, Annie now holding onto my hand and Miz Dottie bouncing and circling in front of us. I leaned down and picked up the leash, handed it to Annie.
"Thank you," Annie said one last time, taking the leash, still smiling widely.
"It is so nice to meet you, finally, I was telling Dr. Biggs that I should have done this some time ago," Mrs. Jefferson said, extending her finely-manicured left hand and bracelet-bedecked arm in my direction for a brief, lady-like hand shake. I gently grasped her fingers with mine, noting the massive rock on her ri
ng-finger before letting go. The young woman continued.
"My husband, Gerald, and I want you to know how much your finding and returning Miz Dottie to our daughter means to us. When we lost Miz Dottie, we lost our Annie as well. She missed her little dog so. She didn't eat, or sleep, she fell behind in school. Therapy did little to help her work through the loss. We were beside ourselves and then, as I was told by Dr. Biggs, you saw Dottie running along on the street and thought enough of her to pick her up and bring her to someone who could get her home. That tells me that you are a kind and caring person, one who's willing to do the right thing, because it is the 'right thing' to do, and, frankly, there are not enough people in this world like that any more. You did more than return our dog to us, Miss Baxter, you returned our daughter to us and we want you to know that if there is ever anything we can do for you, please do not hesitate in contacting us."
I was left wide-eyed by the intensity of this young woman's gratitude.
Mrs. Jefferson continued, "And, also with our heartfelt thanks, we would like you to have this." She had extracted an envelope from her purse and was holding it out to me.
"Mrs. Jefferson," I started my objection. I did not know how Dr. Biggs felt about her employees taking money from clients.
"Please, we insist." Mrs. Jefferson took a step toward me, still holding out the envelope.
I looked at Dr. Biggs, who nodded, granted me permission. I took the envelope.
"You're welcome, Mrs. Jefferson." I said. "I'm very glad to have helped Annie get Miz Dottie back." Mrs. Jefferson smiled in return, a very beautiful and sincere smile, her gray-blue eyes sparkling.
"Thank you," Mrs. Jefferson added simply, our business concluded. "Now then, Annie, time to go. Are you holding Miz Dottie's leash?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am," the little girl quietly answered, holding out her hand, the red leash wrapped around her wrist. Miz Dottie was sitting next to her girl, little red tongue peeking out of her mouth as she watched the exchange.
"Well then, we're off," said Mrs. Jefferson. "Thank you for your time, Dr. Biggs, I hope I haven't kept you from anything, dropping in on you and your staff like this."
Dr. Biggs was still smiling as she opened the door for the small entourage. "Any time, Mrs. Jefferson," she assured the young woman.
"Come along, Annie, Miz Dottie, we need to start your father's dinner," Mrs. Jefferson said to the girls as they exited the office. "Picnic dinner and a movie before bed," she informed them.
"Outside?" Annie asked as they moved onto the parking lot.
"Yes, outside," answered her mother.
"Yay!" shouted the little girl as she made her way to the dark gray luxury sedan parked near the door. Miz Dottie wuffed her happiness as her little legs scuttled over the pavement. I watched them as Mrs. Jefferson placed her hand on her daughter's back and looked down at her upturned face, both smiling as they walked together towards the car. Seeing Mrs. Jefferson's love for Annie glowing on her face, I was overwhelmed. I was, at once, happy and sad, and I could not distinguish between the two. A tear made its way from my eye, down my cheek. I wiped it away.
Dr. Biggs was talking to me.
"...usually don't allow my employees to take tips, but at the time you brought Dottie in, you hadn't officially started working for me, so I see no problem with you receiving a 'reward' per se for finding Dottie."
I turned and looked at Dr. Biggs. A worried look came over her face. She stepped toward me and placed her hand on my forearm.
"Baxter, are you okay?" Dr. Biggs asked, great concern showing on her face. I nodded my head, wiped away another wayward tear. I didn't trust myself to speak.
"Here, come on, come with me," she said, taking me by the elbow, leading me across the reception area and through the lab to her office.
"Sit down." She guided me into the chair across from her desk. I sat. I still had not found my voice. The mix of emotions I had felt reverberated in my brain. Happy and sad, all at the same time.
"Drink this," she said as she uncapped a bottle of water from her personal refrigerator. I took a long pull. Dr. Biggs sat in her chair opposite me, observing and waiting. I worked on pulling it together enough to give Dr. Biggs whatever she needed to satisfy her concern and let me out of her office as quickly as possible. I found my voice.
"Thank you, Dr. Biggs," I said, a slight catch at the end. I cleared my throat. "For everything. For this job, and for this," I was still holding the envelope.
"Baxter, you are very welcome," she replied. "I'm glad to have you on board, you've proven to be a very good employee, but," she ventured on, "are you sure that's all? Is there anything else I can help you with?"
"Um, no, ma'am, I'm okay," I answered. I couldn't put it into words for myself, much less figure out how to explain it to someone else. I took another long pull on the water bottle.
"Okay." Dr. Biggs sat back in her chair. "Okay," she repeated. "But Baxter, if you ever need anything, if you ever need to talk..." and she left it there.
"Yes ma'am," I replied, signaling that I understood what she meant.
"Well," Dr. Biggs slapped her knees and stood up. "It's three o'clock. Have you finished washing out the kennels?"
"Yes ma'am," I answered.
"Then why don't you call it a day. Go drop the top on that Jeep of yours and take a drive, get some fresh air. I'll feed everyone up before I go."
"Dr. Biggs," I started.
"No, Baxter, I insist. It won't hurt a thing if you leave early today."
Now I stood up. There was no use arguing with Dr. Biggs.
"Okay, then," I said, "see you in the morning."
"In the morning," said Dr. Biggs.
I left the office and, like Dr. Biggs suggested, I dropped the top on the Jeep. It was a beautiful afternoon, sunny and warm, but not too much with the top down. I exited the parking lot and drove out the opposite direction of home. I hadn't done much wandering, and I decided I'd burn some gas just looking around, getting a feel for the town of Tenley and its surrounding area. At least, that's how I rationalized it. In retrospect, I believe it was an attempt to outrun those inexplicable feelings of happy and sad I'd experienced while watching Mrs. Jefferson and her little girl.
I got home at about five o'clock. The girls welcomed me with their usual jubilance, Smokey with his usual indifference. I went to the bedroom to change out of my scrubs and, as I was pulling off my pants, the envelope fell on the floor. I picked it up and tore it open. Inside, there was a calling card with the Jeffersons' contact info, and cash. A lot of cash.
I pulled out the wad of bills and counted. Counted again. Even after the second count, I could not wrap my head around the reality of the amount. The Jeffersons had given me two thousand dollars. There was no doubt, I had counted it twice. Two thousand dollars.
It wasn't the money. It wasn't about the money at all.
But I couldn't stop the tears.
13
I caught up with Penny that Tuesday afternoon, after work. I'd changed into my sweats and a t-shirt at work, so I didn't need to go home. Practice wouldn't start until six and it was four o'clock when we met up at the ballpark. I was parked and waiting when Penny pulled up in the MGB.
"Get in," she said. "I'm driving."
She drove us out a road I hadn't been on before, a two-lane state highway, heading north. Penny was a lead-foot, sending us down that highway at a pretty good clip, the 'Thanks for Visiting Friendly Tenley' sign flashing by.
"What's your hurry?" I shouted over the wind.
"What are you, a cop?" she shouted in return.
I laughed.
She took a left turn onto a side road and hit the gas. My life was in the hands of a pure speed freak but, I must say, she drove that MGB like it was an extension of her body. We shot down that road at about 80 miles-per-hour, only slowing down as we came up on a log cabin with a large dirt parking lot. The sign over the door read "Powder Keg." I had no idea what we were about to do.
"C
ome on," said Penny, as she climbed out of the convertible, grabbing a leather bag from behind the seat. "I want at least an hour."
"What the fuck?" I thought.
We walked through the door and then I knew exactly what we were about to do.
Inside was a long display case of handguns. We were at an indoor shooting range. I was in heaven.
"Hey, Joe," Penny called to the guy behind the case. "Two for an hour each. And we've got our own."
Joe rang up the sale on an old cash register and Penny handed him the money. She took me by the upper arm and steered me past the register, through the door as the buzzer sounded, unlocking the door and letting us through to the target areas.
"Have you ever fired a gun?" Penny asked.
I was already grinning, as excited as a kid at Christmas. In my head, I was jumping up and down, clapping my hands. "Yes, ma'am." Penny smiled. She could feel my excitement, my joy.
The place was empty except for us, and Joe, so Penny went to the center of the range and threw her bag up on the counter. Inside was a Glock and a Sig Sauer, two sets of sharpshooter eye wear and two sets of ear protectors.
"You bring a lot of your dates out here?" I asked, looking at the ear protectors.
"I've brought only a couple," she replied. "Take your pick," she added.
I picked the Glock, because it was what I had used in Baltimore, and grabbed a pair of the bright orange ear protectors. Penny set out a box of bullets for the Glock, then took out the Sig Sauer and started loading it. I loaded the Glock and then we sent the targets to the ends of the alleys.
Penny tapped me on the shoulder. "Ready?"
I nodded.
We both began firing at the silhouettes. It took a few shots before I got my balance back and started firing with accuracy. Penny, on the other hand, was dead-on with her shots, taking out the head and heart of her target quickly.
We emptied our guns at nearly the same time.
"Not bad," she said, assessing my target.
"Could be better," I said.