“Why?” Gabe asked, his voice soft.
Simon spread his hands. “I told you—”
“No.” Gabe focused on the road ahead of him. “Not why did you call me today. Why did you and dad do it? Hurt all those animals. How could you do it?” His voice broke at the end, and he hated himself for asking. It was done. It shouldn’t matter why. But he’d never got an answer from his dad, not in all the years Gabe had begged him to end the fights. He needed to understand.
“They’re just animals, Gabe.” Simon’s voice was quiet. He stared at his hands. “They don’t have souls. They run on instinct, not intelligence. They’re just animals. You never understood that.”
There were several points there that Gabe found highly debatable, but he chose another argument. “A lack of intelligence doesn’t mean they can’t feel pain. Feel hunger or cold. I’m not trying to put them on the same level as humans. But if people are supposed to be better than animals, then maybe we should act better.” Gabe smacked the steering wheel. “What’s the point of having a damn soul if you don’t use it to show some compassion?”
Simon didn’t respond, and Gabe’s shoulders slumped. He didn’t know why he bothered. There were no answers, at least no good ones. People acted selfishly, uncaring of others and the misery they caused. That was human nature, the one constant throughout history.
There were exceptions. That Herbert Hoover who Marla could go on and on about. He’d spent a lot of his time, money, and energy to help others. Then there was Marla herself. She cared, so much so that she threw herself into situations without considering the consequences. Without a thought to her own welfare.
She was one of the rare good ones.
There was also Brad and Dax. Gabe was lucky to have those two in his corner. And the annoying but kind Deborah Garcia and Eugenie Shaw. They were always ready to help a good cause. Even Jerome had turned out to be a decent enough guy. Maybe the good ones weren’t the exception to the rule. Maybe it had been Gabe and his family that had been the exceptions.
He turned into the parking lot of the grocery store and pulled into a spot. He cut the engine, the sudden silence ringing in his ears.
Simon popped open his door and wedged himself out, keeping his sore leg straight.
Gabe followed his uncle into the store, watched him flirt with the woman stacking oranges, grab a box of cereal for a customer too short to reach it. Even Simon wasn’t the monster that Gabe had pegged him as. He’d done horrible things, things that they all should have done time for, but he wasn’t truly evil. Small-minded and sad and selfish. But were they acts that a person couldn’t come back from? That could never be forgiven?
Gabe rubbed his chest and wandered into the medicine aisle. He stared at the heartburn medication but knew it wouldn’t help.
Simon shuffled down the aisle toward him, his basket weighted down with bags of candy and three individual plastic tubs of cake slices—chocolate, vanilla, and carrot. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
“What is all that crap?” Gabe shifted a bag of Snickers and pulled out a box of Malomars.
Simon snatched it back. “It’s my sweets. I’ll have to eat the cookies before Jethro steals ’em. He says he’s taking them away for my own good, but I know he likes them just as much as me. He’s eating them all himself.”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to eat sugar?”
“What do you care?”
Gabe shoved his hands in his pockets. “I don’t care what you eat.”
The men stared at each other, and Simon shifted on his feet, wincing when his weight landed on his right leg.
A grumble started deep in Gabe’s chest. Swearing, he tugged the basket from his uncle’s hand and put it on a shelf. “No sweets on my watch.”
“I need something!” Simon’s eyes were mournful as he stared at the abandoned basket. “At least let me get the Snickers.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, Gabe took his uncle’s elbow and led him away. “There’s got to be something sugar-free you can eat.”
“Sugar-free tastes like swamp ass,” Simon grumbled. But he grabbed several bags of diet candy. “You’re paying for this crap.”
Gabe took the bags and tossed them on the conveyor belt. He pulled out his wallet. Now he was trying to keep his uncle heathy? Yeah, he’d be paying for that for a while to come. “Come on. Let’s get you home.” He grabbed the bag and slouched back to the Vellie. “Do you know if Jethro is cooking for you or do you need some takeout for dinner? Healthy takeout.”
“Who knows what that boy is up to anymore,” Simon grumbled. “He’s never home.”
“He’s got a girlfriend.” Gabe racked his brain for healthy takeout options. Nothing came to mind.
Simon snorted. “I think he’s stepping out on her. One night when I thought he was with her, she called looking for him. Said he wasn’t answering his phone.”
“He was probably at work. Or running errands.” Chinese with steamed vegetables and chicken? That couldn’t be too bad for his uncle. He turned the engine over and headed to the restaurant.
“I wouldn’t put it past the boy.” Simon clicked his seatbelt into place. “You don’t know him like I do.”
Maybe not. Gabe had lost his connection with Jethro over the years, too. But one thing Gabe could recognize was a man smitten with his woman. And Jethro had it bad for his girlfriend.
Gabe’s stomach hardened. Life was simpler for his cousin. He’d found a sweet schoolteacher, spent as much time as he could with her. Nothing more complicated than that. No worries about whether he was good enough. If he was ready to be part of a couple. Or if he and his schoolteacher were too different to truly be happy together.
His fingers ached around the wheel, and he eased his grip. Gabe had never thought he’d be jealous of his cousin.
He’d been wrong.
Chapter Eighteen
“I’ve told you, the coding is fine.” Debbie bit off the end of a carrot and chewed it viciously.
“Then how do you explain the error?” Eugenie sniffed and pulled a red-and-white striped peppermint from her cardigan pocket. “The app is currently tracking the location of Marla’s phone wherever she goes. It was supposed to just tag it when she took the picture.”
“I know what the problem is. What I don’t know is the solution.” Debbie narrowed her eyes. “And I don’t see you getting any better results.”
“Well, we have to do something,” Eugenie said. “We can’t track people’s locations. We’re not the NSA.”
Dropping her forehead into her palm, Marla dug deep for patience. The same argument had been going on for forty minutes, a circle of blame and snark, but no resolution. She was at Eugenie’s home in a first-floor bedroom that had been transformed into the office for their consulting company. Debbie had informed her of the glitch in the app and asked her to come to their office, stopping at random intervals to take pictures with the Forever Friends app. The app, Debbie had informed her, when she’d arrived, was tentatively titled Forever Found. That had started off another round of arguments, with Eugenie complaining it should have the same name as the shelter.
They were all standing in a semicircle around the computer monitor open to the Forever Friends website, and each minute that passed decreased Marla’s interest in the app. Maybe technology wasn’t the answer to helping the county’s dogs. Maybe she should send Debbie and Eugenie door-to-door to annoy the dogfighters into confessing to their criminal activity. Prison would be a welcome reprieve from these two.
She kneaded her lower back and broke into the argument. “Just to be clear, the administrative access page for the Forever Friends website should show the last location as being Galt Park, where I snapped a picture of a koi fish. Instead it shows me here, at your house.”
“In essence, yes.” Debbie finished her carrot and l
ooked mournfully at a dish of hard candies on the desk.
“Not in essence. In exact point of fact,” Eugenie corrected.
Debbie opened her mouth to shoot back, but Marla had had enough. She raised her hand. “Stop. What is going on with you two? You’re supposed to be the best of friends, but lately all you do is snipe at each other.” Well, sniping was a way of life for them, but the intensity had escalated. Even the dogs couldn’t take it. Debbie’s pup, Hoover, and Maddie had slunk out of the room at the first raised voice. Genie’s sweet-tempered Shep hadn’t lasted much longer.
“That’s absurd.” Eugenie tossed her head, her steel-gray curls bouncing. “We do no such thing.”
“Of course we do.” Gripping the back of an unoccupied desk chair, Debbie leaned forward. “You’re too stubborn to see it.”
Marla dropped her head back and glared at the ceiling. “Oh my God. You’re fighting about fighting. Can’t you two agree on anything?”
The room fell silent until Genie bit into her mint. Debbie crossed her arms over her round stomach. “It started when I got Sampson. You don’t want me having anything of my own. You like that I’ve been a hanger-on, dependent on you for all this time.”
Genie’s nostrils flared. “If we’re going to be honest, it started before that. It was when I started seeing Herbie. You didn’t like that I had a boyfriend and you didn’t.”
Whoa. This was not what Marla had been expecting. She shifted on her heels.
“It was not! I’m quite fond of Judge Nichols and think you two make a charming couple.”
Eugenie raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Well…” Tracing a diamond pattern in the carpet with her toe, Debbie shrugged. “Maybe I didn’t like that you wanted to spend all your free time with him. Like you were too good for your friend of fifty years.”
“I never thought that!” Eugenie placed her hand on Debbie’s arm. “But we spend all our time together. It was nice having a man around for a change. Especially a man like Herbie. But I didn’t mean to make you feel second-best.”
“And why don’t you like Sampson?” Debbie asked.
“I like him fine. He’s a perfectly respectable dog.”
“Respectable?” Marla frowned. Even she could see that wasn’t a compliment.
“Well…” The delicate skin on Eugenie’s cheeks went pink. “Maybe I didn’t like the idea of you moving on without me, either. A new dog is a big step, and you didn’t even consult me. I thought maybe you were tired of me and Shep.”
“I love you and Shep. I could never get tired of either one of you.” Debbie tapped a loose fist against her heart. “If I were a hugger, I think this would be a moment for that.”
Genie leaned into her friend, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Then it’s a good thing you’re not a hugger.”
Marla dabbed her eyes. Two people meant to be a unit, through dogs and boyfriends and jealousies. Friendship overcame. It was a beautiful thing.
And she was a singularity, never to be part of a unit. Marla’s pulse slowed. She’d never missed being part of a couple. Not until Gabe had shown her how great it could feel. But they hadn’t been together. Not really. And that thought depressed her further. She shook herself. Loneliness was no excuse for being maudlin.
Eugenie smoothed down the front of her cardigan. “What do you say I ditch Herbie tonight and we have a girls’ night?”
“I can’t.” Debbie examined her orthopedics. “I promised Enrique that I’d go to the singles’ mixer at Golden Acres.”
“I’m going to that, too!” Marla checked her watch. She would need to leave soon to get ready. Time for a resolution to the app issue.
“I know you’re staring down middle age, dear, but don’t you think a mixer at an assisted living facility is a bit desperate, even for you?” Eugenie shook her head sadly. “And you,” she said, pointing at Debbie, “is this why you’ve been eating carrots and celery for the past week? For Enrique?”
Even for her? Marla fisted her hands on her hips. “I’m not going there to pick up a man!”
They ignored her.
“Ric appreciates a woman with curves. But I do have a dress I want to get into,” Debbie admitted. “It’s a lovely turquoise sateen.”
“Hmm.” Eugenie pressed her lips into a thin line. “He’d better appreciate you.” She gave her friend a knowing look. “You do have a type, don’t you? The Latin lover.” She gave a little swivel to her arthritic hips, and Marla died just a little inside. “First your husband, Sergio, God rest his soul. And now Enrique,” she said, rolling the ‘r’.
Rubbing her temples, Marla groaned. “Please, for the love of all that is holy, let’s change the subject. Back to the app. When will it be fixed?”
“When Debbie rechecks her coding—”
“I’ve checked it.” Debbie leaned over the chairback and stabbed a finger at the computer screen. “Look, there is nothing wrong with my… Oh.”
Genie patted her hand and turned to Marla. “We’ll get right on fixing it.”
“Right on it, after my date tonight,” Debbie amended.
“Oh, and tomorrow we have our appointments at the Posh Wash & Nosh.” Whipping a smartphone out of her sweater pocket, Eugenie pulled up her calendar. “And the day after that we’re training for that hot chocolate 5K.”
“I thought that was next week.” Debbie pulled out her own phone.
“Ladies, I’m sure you’ll figure out a time. Let me know when you want me to test the app again.” Picking up her trench coat and purse, Marla fiddled with the belt. “On a side note, I might need a website for a foundation I’m thinking about starting. Would you be available to build it?”
“We do have a waitlist,” Debbie said.
“But for a fellow dog lover, we’re willing to push you up. Right, Debbie?” Eugenie elbowed her friend in the side. “She pays fast,” she whispered loudly enough for Marla to hear.
“Right!” Debbie gave her a thumbs up. “Right to the top.”
Marla just stopped her eyeroll. She gave the women a farewell wave and skedaddled. At the front door she called for her dogs. Toenails scrabbled across hardwood floors. Maddie rounded into the hall. Hoover slid around the corner of the kitchen and slammed into Maddie’s legs. They somersaulted across the entry rug.
Maddie woofed and pinned the smaller dog. She tugged on Hoov’s ear with her teeth, then smiled up at Marla, her tongue lolling out of her mouth.
Marla’s breath caught in her throat. Maddie had almost turned into a different dog with Hoover around. More playful. Friendlier. It was beautiful to see.
Who needed a man when there were dogs?
“Okay you two. Enough fooling around. You’ve got your own appointment with the groomers. We’ve got to go get prettied up for tonight.” Clipping on their leashes, Marla herded them to her car and they squeezed together in the front seat.
* * * *
Gabe tossed Dax a two-by-four and it smacked him in the shoulder. Gabe grunted. “Look when I’m tossing you wood, why don’t you?”
“First of all, that’s disgusting.” Dax rubbed his shoulder and plucked the five-foot piece of lumber from the ground. “Second of all, I didn’t know it was coming. You were the tosser. You should be looking to see that I’m ready.”
That seemed logical, so Gabe ignored it and joined Brad. After a dog had gotten loose, the three men had discovered a section of the boundary fence on the shelter’s property had fallen down. Instead of hiring a fencer to repair it, like smart people, they’d decided to fix it themselves.
“That plank isn’t in line with the others.” Gabe jerked his head at the board Brad had just nailed into place. “Fix it.”
Brad uncoiled from his crouch and removed two nails wedged between his lips. “Excuse me? My shelter. My fence. Don’t tell me to fix it.”
Dax
strolled over, the two-by-four perched on one shoulder. “Technically, it’s Marla’s fence. Why didn’t we ask her to hire someone to fix it, again?”
“We don’t need her involved in everything,” Gabe grumbled.
Dax and Brad exchanged knowing looks. “Ah,” Dax said. “So that’s the reason your panties are in a bunch. Well, more so than usual.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Stepping forward, Gabe grabbed the edge of the uneven plank and tried to rip it out. The bastard wouldn’t budge.
“Pretty sturdy, isn’t it?” Brad said mildly.
“Just because you used every goddamn nail in the box on this one board doesn’t mean you installed it right.” Gabe grunted, felt a sliver cut into his thumb, and stepped back. Marla probably would have had a man out here within the hour, and the fence would have been perfectly straight and strong enough to hold back a herd of buffalo.
He planted his heel into the middle of the board. The board shot free and ricocheted off an oak tree. Gabe smiled grimly.
“Feel better?” Brad asked. He pulled off his work gloves and tucked them into the front of his jeans.
Gabe took stock. Not really, but there were a lot more boards he could kick down. Maybe if he razed the whole damn fence he’d feel better.
Catching the look in his eye, Brad grabbed his shoulder and steered him away from their work. “No. Talk.”
“I’ve got nothing to say.” Gabe examined his thumb and dug the sliver out.
“Bull. You’ve been a pain in the ass for days.” Brad squeezed his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
“I just…” Gabe gripped the back of his neck. What was wrong? His life was back to normal. He hadn’t found who was running the fights yet, and that was just as annoying as his sliver. But it wasn’t what was keeping him up at night.
He missed Marla. The bigger problem was that she didn’t seem to miss him back. No texts. No calls. No dropping by his office to say ‘hi’. Just because he’d decided that they weren’t a good fit didn’t mean he liked it that she’d already come to that conclusion.
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