Linny's Sweet Dream List

by Susan Schild

  Clicking through her Kindle to the end of Indigo’s book, she found the “Life of Gratitude and Joy” daily affirmation statements she’d been looking for. Today’s was apt. Open your heart to softness and warmth. Smiling, she reached down to give the puppy a scratch. Today’s assignment was easy.

  Glancing at the clock on the stove, she wondered whether it was too early to call Kate. Nah. By now, Miss Virtuous Early Riser had probably showered, done a load of wash, and finished a lesson plan for fall. She dialed her sister’s number, and breathed through her mouth as she scooped up the sleepy ball of fur and rested it on her shoulder. When Kate picked up, Linny said, “You’re a witch. You were so sure I needed a dog, and, last night, a puppy showed up on my doorstep.”

  “You’re kidding!” Kate’s voice was an octave higher than usual. “That’s amazing.”

  The puppy blinked and gently gnawed on Linny’s finger. “I gave it milk and a packet of tuna fish, but puppies need special food, don’t they?”

  “They do. We’ll get whatever supplies it needs. I’m so excited!” Kate paused to draw a breath. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

  Linny lifted the puppy and looked at its nether areas. What was she supposed to be looking for? “Beats me.”

  Kate laughed. “I’ll be there about ten o’clock. I can’t wait.”

  “I’ll be here.” Ending the call, she held her breath and kissed the puppy’s downy head, murmuring, “Let’s get you a bath, and then I’ve got to get cracking.”

  After rinsing the Moroccan oil infused shampoo from its black coat, Linny grinned and toweled the puppy off. “Good boy . . . or girl.” The damp dog chewed on an old sneaker from the GOODWILL box as Linny drew in a deep breath, pulled on rubber gloves, and filled a bucket with steaming water. The first job was to further sanitize the bathroom. Yesterday she’d fought revulsion as she’d done her best to clean the green-encrusted toilet. It was better, but not good enough. This morning, she’d use Mary Catherine’s bottle of environmentally unfriendly super disinfectant, and re-scrub it mercilessly, vanquishing any former renters’ cooties.

  Linny gave a little shriek and flailed, waving her toilet brush as the floor around the commode gave way. Good Lord. As she extricated her foot, she thought about the shock of one minute innocently tinkling, and the next plummeting through the floor to the underbelly of the trailer. She surprised herself with a chuckle that turned into laughter that was hard to stop. Though she knew she was just punchy, it still felt good to laugh. She wiped her eyes with toilet paper, and duct taped a piece of packing box cardboard over the hole in the floor.

  As she scrubbed the tub with a hard bristled brush, she glanced out the small window and saw her sister pull up in her Honda. Linny stuck a yellow rubber gloved hand out the bathroom window and waved. She picked up the box containing the sleeping puppy, and hurried to greet her.

  Clasping her hands together, Kate stepped from the car, and fairly danced to the porch. “Hey, there. I’m so excited about the puppy!”

  “Hey, girly.” Linny lowered the box to the porch floor, and stood, admiring her sister’s sloe eyes, pointed chin, and crop of unruly auburn hair. Kate’s thrift store ensemble was a twirly cotton skirt, red cowboy boots, and a T-shirt that read, All children are gifted and talented. When tiny-boned Kate folded her into an extravagant hug, Linny felt almost weak with relief. She felt safer, more like her normal self in this jarring new setting. “Go say hello.” Linny pointed her sister to the box.

  Gently lifting up the sleepy dog, Kate nuzzled his face. “Aren’t you precious!” She hugged the dog, breathed in its fur, and cocked her head at Linny. “Puppies usually smell like Fritos corn chips and new baby.”

  Linny gave a rueful smile. “It’s my twenty-two-dollar-a-bottle shampoo. The little guy . . . or gal . . . smelled awful when it showed up. I had to bathe it first thing.”

  Her sister nodded and, lifting the puppy, eyed it. “It’s a he . . .” She rubbed the puppy’s fat belly. “. . . and he’s got worms.”

  Linny wrinkled her nose. “Oh, that’s disgusting. I’ve been hugging him, and he practically slept in the bed with me last night.”

  Kate looked amused and shook her head. “It’s no big deal, but you’ll want to get them treated and make sure he gets his shots.” She shifted the puppy to her other shoulder and, reaching in the pocket of her skirt, handed Linny a slip of paper. “I brought you the number of our vet, Jack Avery. He’s the best.”

  She took the paper and stared at it unseeingly as her mind darted about. Of course it cost money to own a dog. She’d been so distracted by the puppy’s arrival that she’d not thought though the practicalities. Smoothing the piece of paper on her thigh, she looked at Kate. “I’m not sure I have the money to keep the dog.”

  “If you don’t, we can cover you for a while.” Kate’s smile was beatific as she eased the puppy back into Linny’s arms. “You were meant to have this dog.”

  Linny stroked the puppy’s silky ear, wavering. “What about while I’m at work?”

  “We can work around my school schedule. Classes don’t start for another week yet, so we can come up with a plan.” Her sister’s voice was firm. “You can’t give this puppy up. If you take him to the animal shelter, he could get euthanized.”

  Linny hugged the puppy. She couldn’t let that happen. Her words tumbled out. “I’ll figure out a way to make it work.”

  “Good. Then it’s decided.” Kate nodded. “Any ideas on what you’ll call him?”

  She hesitated. She and Andy had talked about getting a dog, and they’d come up with some good names. “What about Roy for Roy Rogers?” Linny and Kate had loved those reruns when they were girls.

  “Roy. Perfect.” Kate nodded gravely, examining the dog’s face. “He can catch bad guys for you.” She gave him one last pat, as Linny slipped him back into his nest.

  “Come help me unload. I ran by the pet store and picked up a few things to get you started,” Kate said.

  Linny followed her sister to the car. Peeking into the bags piled in the open trunk, she spotted leashes, puppy chow, and a fleece-lined bed. “Kate, you’re spoiling us.”

  Kate waved her hand. “Dogs are for spoiling. We spoil Duke and Delilah, but we think of them as children with fur.” She paused, suddenly looking vulnerable.

  Linny put down her parcels and wound her arms around Kate. She and Jerry had tried for so many years to have a baby, and the most recent round of in vitro had failed. Feeling a wave of love, she rested her chin on top of her sister’s head.

  Kate brushed at her brimming eyes with her fingers and said briskly, “Let’s get going.” She gave Linny a knowing look, and cracked a smile. “You need to get a To-Do list going.” With one hand on her hip, she gazed appraisingly at the trailer. “With work, it might have a kitschy appeal.”

  “Kitschy?” Linny stared at the trailer. Darned if she could see kitschy.

  Her sister nodded. “I did a little research on the Internet. It’s a 1976 Scenic-View, and was the top of the line in its day.”

  “Mary Catherine and I cleaned yesterday, but it’s still rough.” Linny warned, as she held open the door. “Come on in.”

  “I haven’t been inside in ages.” Kate sniffed. “I smell good clean smells, and nasty carpeting.”

  “I’ll rip it out.” Linny nodded vigorously, as she grabbed her spiral notebook and pen from the kitchen table.

  Together they slowly walked through each room, and around the exterior of the trailer. Linny scribbled notes as Kate told her what the big projects were, their order of priority, and the estimated costs.

  In the spare bedroom, Kate picked up a wooden decoy from the top of a packing box and examined it. “This is pretty, I haven’t seen it before.”

  “I snagged it out of the boxes of Buck’s stuff just as the thrift store truck pulled into the driveway. He always called it his Lucky Duck, and would pat it before big meetings.”

  Her sister cocked her head inquisitively. “Did
you keep it for the luck?”

  Linny shook her head no. “I just thought he was a sweet little guy, and didn’t want to see him go to someone who didn’t appreciate him,” she admitted.

  Kate nodded. “Everyone needs to be appreciated.” She patted the decoy on his head before she set him back on top of the box.

  After they sized up the last room, Kate announced, “We need to smudge.” She rummaged in her fringed purse and held aloft a bundle. “White sage. Native Americans use it for purification.” She pulled a book of matches and an ashtray from her purse. “We light the ends, and wave the smoke around each room. We’ll clear out the bad karma, and replace it with good.”

  Though Linny had little truck with karma, she followed her smoking sister through every room. If a little sage could steam clean out negativity, she was all for it.

  Afterward, she sat beside her sister on the porch floor as they sipped bottles of icy water. She glanced around the trailer and gazed at her sister. “Can I can handle living in this place?”

  “Yup.” Kate nodded firmly. “This place will work fine for the short term. Glad Mama was between tenants.”

  Linny got a mental picture of the pink jeep parked in the middle of her mother’s chaotic living room and shivered. “Mama’s house is getting worse.”

  Kate frowned. “I know. I try to talk to her about it, and she bites my head off.”

  Linny swatted away a mosquito. “Her yard sale-ing is out of control.”

  “I know. Maybe I’ll ask Jerry to talk to her.” She raised her eyes heavenward. “Mama listens to him like every word he says is a pearl of wisdom.”

  “One other thing . . .” Linny started. “Have you noticed how Mama talks about Daddy? She sounds almost bitter when she reminisces.”

  Kate looked thoughtful. “I’ve noticed. Maybe it’s too hard for her to talk about him.”

  “Maybe.” Linny nodded, unconvinced. Something was going on.

  “Right now, I’m more worried about you.” Her sister gave her a searching look. “How are you holding up?”

  “I’m hanging in.” Linny felt her eyes prick, touched by her sister’s concern.

  “When are you going back to work?” Kate asked, pushing a stray lock of springy hair behind her ear.

  “Wednesday of next week.” Linny felt bleak just thinking about it.

  She raised a brow. “Didn’t they give you two weeks of compassionate leave?”

  Linny shrugged. “They did, but it’s been hard for them to be short-staffed.”

  Kate snorted. “Linny, stop worrying about them. Take care of you.”

  “I know, I know. They need me, though.” Linny leaned heavily against the porch column. “I’m dreading it.” She rubbed her eyes with her fingers. “I’ve kept count. I’ve been involved in the layoffs of five hundred and sixty-two employees.”

  Kate winced. “Cleaning up after bloodshed has to be hard. Once things settle out, maybe you can look for another job.”

  Could she bear her job for much longer? She’d initially been hired by Kipling Outsourcing to do supervisory training, but a few years ago, her job changed. After small companies did layoffs, they sent her in to work with the shell-shocked, soon-to-be-ex-employees leading a class called Managing Career Change.

  Looking out over the fields, she sipped her water. After college, she’d worked for a few different companies, drifted into this job, and ended up staying twelve years. “Last month, I did a class and was on break in the bathroom. Through the wall to the men’s room I heard sobbing. It was a guy from my class.” Linny shivered. “These days, I’d rather clean rooms at Motel 6 than clean up after a layoff.”

  “Please tell me you’re not going to quit.” Kate’s brows knit and she looked worried.

  “I won’t. I can’t afford to,” Linny said wearily, and turned to Kate. “Am I going to get through this?”

  “You will. Everything will be all right, Linny.” Kate wound an arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze.

  For a moment, Linny closed her eyes and let herself believe it.

  Kate gave her a final pat. “I need to run.” After a prolonged goodbye smooch with Roy, she clicked on her seatbelt, and nosed the car down the driveway.

  Monday afternoon, Linny wheeled the car into the tree-shaded lot of Red Oak Animal Hospital. After filling out the paperwork, she and the puppy took a seat and she tried to concentrate on the article, “Potty Train Your Puppy in Two Days.” A redhead wearing a uniform printed with fire hydrants beckoned her. “Dr. Avery is ready for you.”

  In the examining room, Linny said, “Thanks for working us in.”

  “We’re happy to.” The smiling woman gave Roy’s rump a scratch, and left.

  The puppy wove in and out of her legs, and nibbled on the hem of her khakis. She grinned at him, extracted a chew toy from her purse, and tried to distract him from his pants-chewing mission.

  A few moments later, a tall man stepped in, chart in hand. Wearing a white lab coat over a crisp, blue Oxford-cloth shirt, chinos, and white running shoes, he looked familiar.

  He stuck out his hand. “I’m Jack Avery.”

  She shook it. “I’m Linny Taylor, and this is Roy.”

  The vet cocked his head and gave her a wicked grin. “Hello, again. Too sexy for your skin, right?”

  Good grief. He was the man she’d beaned at the dumpster. She put her fingers to her mouth, and felt a hot wave of humiliation. “How is your head?”

  His astonishing green eyes twinkled. “Fine and dandy.”

  She leaned forward in her chair and her words came out in a rush. “That wasn’t my real shirt, it was a gag gift. And those weren’t my bottles. I found them and . . .” She trailed off. There was just too much to explain. “You must have thought I was awful.”

  Jack looked at her gravely, and gave her a half smile. “I thought you were probably a nice lady with a lot on her mind.” He nodded as if to confirm what he’d said. “You must be Kate Andrews’s sister. Ruthie said you’d be coming in today.”

  “That’s right.” She was so relieved he didn’t think she was a nut, and knew that she was related to normal people. Indigo’s Life of Gratitude and Joy affirmation for today was Release the burden of worrying what other people think of you, but that habit would be hard to shake. She glanced at his green eyes. She cared what this man thought of her more than she would like to admit.

  “Kate and Jerry are fine people.” The vet slipped on a pair of half glasses and lifted the puppy to the metal table. “Let’s take a look at this young man.” His big hands moved gently as he examined Roy. He glanced at her. “So you found this fellow?”

  “I did.”

  Roy gnawed at Jack’s fingers as he lifted the puppy’s lips to look at his teeth. “Looks to be about six to eight weeks old. Mostly Lab”—he pointed to black spots on Roy’s tongue and his curled-up tail—“with other fine breeds in the mix. He’s a handsome boy.”

  “Thank you.” Linny felt foolishly proud of the compliment.

  When the vet wasn’t speaking in a calming tone to the puppy, he whistled under his breath.

  Linny vaguely recognized the tune, but the title wouldn’t come to her.

  Roy chewed at the vet’s stethoscope, and almost wriggled right off the table. She rose and steadied the puppy’s rear end. Her hand accidentally brushed the vet’s and she felt a jolt of crazy electricity. She inhaled sharply. Good grief. What was that about?

  “Jerry’s going to build an addition for us in the fall,” Jack said.

  “Good,” she murmured, hearing the us. Of course, he’d be married. She saw no ring on his left hand, but his hands were probably in and out of icky animal things all day.

  Craning her neck slightly, she tried to look at the back of his neck. Mary Catherine swore that if a married man’s neck was hairy, the marriage was in trouble. If you added a crazy eyebrow or two, and ear hair, the marriage was in the death throes.

  The vet caught her glance and raised a br
ow, but continued his examination. He felt Roy’s roly-poly belly. “He’s probably full of intestinal parasites. Let me check the stool sample you brought us.” The vet stepped out of the room.

  She scratched Roy’s ears, and examined the room for clues about the man. The examining room was built for business—just a chair, an examining table, and a counter. But tacked on a bulletin board above the counter were several photos of a young boy, along with a handmade Father’s Day card and a crookedly block lettered banner that read # 1 DAD!! Linny held Roy over her shoulder like a baby and rubbed his back as she peered at them. In one that looked like a school picture, a skinny boy looked oddly formal in a coat and tie, his expression pensive.

  Linny felt a stab of regret. Maybe she and Andy should have had babies right away instead of waiting until his accounting firm was up and running. They were always so practical. Just as he began to make money and work more normal hours, he died. She hugged the puppy, and tried to push away the scary thought that she might never have another chance for love and her own family.

  Dr. Jack stepped back into the room. “He tested positive. We’ll get him started on these.” He held up a pill package. “The dosing instructions are on the back.” The vet glanced at the chart. “I gave him his vaccinations. Ruthie can schedule Roy for a follow-up in three weeks. In two weeks, I’d like you to get him started on preventatives for heartworm and for fleas and ticks. You can get those from Ruthie.” Easing Roy to the floor, he gave him a final scratch. “Be good for your mama.” He handed her the lead.

  “Right. Thank you.” Linny was very careful not to touch his fingers as she took it. Her heart couldn’t take two lightning bolts in one day.

  At the door, she paused, turned around and tilted her head toward the bulletin board. “How old is your son?”

  He looked startled, but a smile spread across his face. “He’s eleven. Neal’s a real good boy.”

  Linny smiled back, liking how proud he sounded. Jack Avery was a nice man.