Happily Letter After

by Keeland, Vi

  “Sure. Just a moment. They’re in the cabinet in the kitchen. Please, make yourself at home while I grab one.”

  A part of me felt so guilty about what I was doing, yet another part of me couldn’t help but look around, given the opportunity. The uglier part won out when I saw the framed photos on the mantel above the big fireplace that I’d spotted earlier from the window. My heart squeezed when I picked up the first one. It was a picture of Sebastian and his wife bundled up in winter coats and hats, in front of a snow-covered mountain. They both had on skis, and Sebastian held Birdie up in the air with one arm—and she had a snowboard strapped to her little feet. She couldn’t have been more than five or six in the picture. Her chubby cheeks were all red, and she wore the biggest, happiest smile I’d ever seen. Even though Sebastian looked super handsome, it was Birdie’s smile that I couldn’t peel my eyes from.

  Magdalene returned before I could stop staring. Seeing what had captured my attention, she smiled sadly. “That’s Mr. Maxwell and his daughter, Birdie.” She made the sign of the cross. “And his beloved wife, Amanda. She’s gone now. God rest her soul.”

  I felt myself starting to get all choked up, so I coughed to clear my throat and set the frame back down. “Well, they’re a very beautiful family.”

  Magdalene nodded. She handed me the dog treat, and I returned my attention to Marmaduke. I hoped like hell he remembered what he’d learned. Following what we’d practiced, I let him see the treat and then held up my hand with it tucked inside. “Sitz,” I said. Miraculously, Marmaduke sat right down.

  Magdalene smiled. “Oh my goodness. You’re very good at your job. This big boy doesn’t listen to anyone.”

  As nutty as the entire situation was, I still felt proud of what I’d accomplished. “Thank you.” I smiled. “Or danke.” I almost laughed after I said that last comment, but I couldn’t help getting into the act. After my demonstration, I gave Magdalene some tips I’d picked up from the internet, and then it was time to go.

  “Okay. Well. Good luck with him. He’s a sweet dog.”

  Magdalene walked me to the door. “You’ll be back next week, right?”

  “Umm. Well . . .”

  “Birdie is going to be so upset she missed today. To be honest, we’d forgotten all about your coming when she made these plans with her troop. I’m sure she’ll be standing at the door waiting for you next Tuesday.”

  Standing at the door waiting for me.

  I pictured Birdie with her nose pressed to the glass, excited to work on the dog’s training.

  I couldn’t let her down. Could I?

  One more week won’t hurt too much, will it? I mean, I was already this far in—how could I end things without at least meeting little Birdie now? Plus, she’d be so disappointed if the trainer quit after the very first day.

  “You know what, sure. I’ll see you next Tuesday.”

  I walked outside and took a deep breath.

  Shit. Here we go again.

  CHAPTER 8

  SADIE

  “Bleib.”

  Ruff!

  “Bleib.”

  Ruff!

  “What the hell are you listening to?” Devin had once again caught me goofing off at work. “Is that German . . . and barking?”

  I pressed the “Pause” button as fast as I could. I’d been watching another YouTube tutorial on German-language dog training. They were all I’d been watching lately whenever I had any spare time. In fact, German dog training had consumed me, to the point where last night I’d dreamed I was on trial for some crime, and the entire courtroom was filled with dogs shouting at me in German.

  “No.” I shook my head and lied. “No German. I don’t know what you thought you heard.”

  “No? What was it, then?”

  There was no way I was getting out of this one.

  I conceded. “Okay, it was.”

  “I know it was . . . because my grandma Inga is German. Are you taking a trip soon?” She beamed at the prospect of my traveling abroad. “An international dating piece! I’d totally be down to be your assistant on that one!”

  Devin had no clue about the mess I’d gotten myself into. But I was going to burst if I didn’t tell someone. If anyone would understand and not have me committed, it would be Devin. Only Devin.

  “No international dating article.” I sighed. “But I have to tell you something, and you’d better sit down for this.”

  Devin couldn’t even stand to sit anymore. She paced excitedly across the space between my cubicle and hers. “Oh my God. This is too good to be true.”

  “It’s a mess is what it is! And it’s ending after this next visit.”

  She stopped for a moment. “So you plan to play German dog trainer one more time and then what?”

  I tapped my pen and blew out a long breath. “Then I have to come up with a way out of this.”

  “Wait . . . what happened to the actual dog trainer?”

  That’s the question of the year, isn’t it?

  “I have no idea. That’s the other problem. As far as I know, Gretchen never showed up yesterday, but I have no idea why or if she’ll come back into the picture.”

  “Let’s hope not.” She sighed. “This is fate, Sadie. The butterfly barrette, the fact that he opened the door right at that moment, the way the dog just listened to your asinine German instructions like you’re some kind of expert! This is your window in. Why give it up after one more visit?”

  I couldn’t believe her suggestion, although I shouldn’t have found it surprising.

  “My window into what, exactly, Devin? And don’t say Sebastian Maxwell’s bed.”

  “I was actually going to say . . . your window into Birdie’s life. You can see her now, check in on her, and not have to make unattainable wishes come true while playing Santa Claus.” She paused, then smirked. “And it could potentially lead to amazing sex with Sebastian Maxwell, yes.”

  I stood up from my seat. “One more time and I’m done, Devin. I mean it. I can’t lie to that little girl’s face. That’s the only thing worse than playing God from afar.”

  “You’re not lying. That’s the beauty of this. You’re . . . you. You just also happen to be training that dog—in German. You are the dog trainer. You’re earning this. Who cares how you got there?”

  “And my name is Gretchen? That’s not a lie?”

  She shrugged. “Small detail.”

  I pulled on my hair. “How do you say ‘fraud’ in Deutsch?”

  It was a beautiful, sunny late-summer day on Eighty-Third Street. The perfect day for a picnic at the park or a stroll with a cup of coffee. There were a ton of things I could have been doing today—anything besides continuing this facade. But with my heart pounding, I made my way up the stairs of the Maxwell brownstone and proceeded to knock on the door.

  From behind the door, I could hear Marmaduke’s paws scratching against the wood floor as he frantically raced to greet me.

  When the door opened, there he was, immediately jumping all over me. Who had even opened the door? All I saw was him. It was as if he’d opened it to let me in himself.

  I turned my cheek, trying to avoid getting slobber in my mouth. “Whoa. Sitz. Sitz.”

  Apparently, he’d forgotten everything he learned last time. Sitz had done zilch to keep him from standing on his hind legs and attempting to french-kiss me.

  “Come in,” Magdalene said from somewhere behind Marmaduke. “So sorry about his energy today. As you can see, he’s being very rambunctious, so it’s perfect timing for another lesson.”

  I’d been expecting that Birdie would be waiting at the door like Magdalene had said she might, but there was no sign of her.

  As Marmaduke trailed behind me, I followed Magdalene inside as I looked around in search of Birdie. Magdalene led me into the kitchen. My eyes eventually landed on Birdie’s blonde locks.

  There she is.

  She looked like she was hurrying to put something back into the cupboard. When she
turned around, her cheeks were filled like a chipmunk’s.

  “Are you alright?” Magdalene asked.

  She nodded fast and mumbled with her mouth full. “Uh-huh.”

  Did Magdalene not know what she was doing? Because it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that Birdie had taken the opportunity of Magdalene going to answer the door to steal cookies. I laughed inwardly. My little cookie thief. She strikes again.

  She turned around briefly with her back to us, and when she faced me again, her cheeks were hollow. She’d apparently swallowed the cookies. Now that I wasn’t distracted any longer by her cheeks, I really got a look into her beautiful baby blues. Birdie was a stunning little girl, and looking into the eyes of the kid who’d charmed my heart for so long from afar was truly surreal. I couldn’t stand to look into those eyes and lie to her. So I decided I would try my best to be as honest as possible under the circumstances.

  “Birdie, this is Gretchen, Marmaduke’s dog trainer,” Magdalene said.

  “Actually, Gretchen is only my work name. You can call me Sadie.”

  Birdie had a confused look on her face. “You have two names?”

  I paused. “Yes.”

  “I want two names! I’m gonna think about another name.”

  Smiling, I said, “It’s kind of fun, I suppose.”

  “Are we taking Marmaduke to the dog park?” Birdie asked.

  “Yeah, I was thinking I’d let you watch me run through some commands with him, and then I’d have you both try them as well.”

  Birdie bolted out of the room. “I’ll get my sweater.” With his tail wagging, Marmaduke followed her down a hallway.

  After she returned, Birdie, Magdalene, and I walked together to the park. Well, it was more like Marmaduke ran to the park and took me along with him while Birdie and Magdalene ran behind us. I needed to figure out how to teach him “slow down.”

  When we got to our destination, we went in search of a good spot to run our lessons.

  Birdie turned to me and asked, “Are you German?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Then how do you teach Marmaduke in German?”

  “I taught myself the important words, and I’m going to teach you, too, so that you don’t need me anymore. The goal is to get him to listen to you, and to Magdalene and your dad.”

  “Can you teach him not to jump on my daddy’s face in the morning? That’s how Marmaduke wakes him up, and he gets so mad. I’m afraid if he keeps doing it, Daddy will want to give him away.”

  “I don’t think your father will do that.”

  I probably shouldn’t have made that promise on Sebastian’s behalf. At least I hoped he wouldn’t break his daughter’s heart in such a way.

  This time, I came armed with a bag full of treats I’d brought. Having the right kind of reinforcements would hopefully make this easier than last time.

  I demonstrated sitz (sit) and platz (down) a few times myself before handing over some of the treats to Birdie. As usual, Marmaduke’s tail was wagging like crazy whenever Birdie took the helm. The level of excitement he had for this little girl was unlike anything else. Birdie squealed in delight the first time the dog listened to her command for a treat. It was truly miraculous how this dog-training thing seemed to be coming together. I really hadn’t thought I could pull this off, but it seemed I was—for now.

  But from everything I’d read, proper dog training typically lasted more than just a couple of sessions. There was no way I could just bail after two times without a good reason. So I was going to have to come up with an excuse after today as to why I couldn’t return. Even the thought of that was daunting.

  Ironically, we were working on the command for stay, bleib, when Marmaduke did just the opposite after he became distracted by a puppy who’d entered the doggy area. No amount of shouting bleib was going to convince him not to chase after the little animal. It took the three of us to rein Marmaduke in and lead him to the quieter area away from the other dogs. After enticing him with a few more treats, we were able to take a rest with him under a tree. Even though it was cooler out, I was definitely breaking a sweat.

  “So, how did you get into this dog-training career?” Magdalene asked.

  Oh, you wouldn’t believe.

  “It’s not my career. It’s just something I literally fell into. I do it on the side. I have another job.”

  “You have two jobs and two names!” Birdie laughed.

  Magdalene smiled. “May I ask what your other job is?”

  “I write a column for a magazine.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Oh, that sounds so fun. What’s the subject?”

  “Dating, actually. I sometimes go on dates and write about them.”

  Birdie scrunched her nose. “Ew. You have to kiss them?”

  I laughed. “No. Definitely not.”

  “Good. The only boy I want to kiss is my daddy.”

  “And I think your dad will be perfectly fine with that for as long as possible,” I said.

  Magdalene and I grinned at each other.

  “I bet a lot of the boys want to kiss you,” Birdie added. “You have pretty blonde hair and a nice smile.”

  That was sweet.

  “Why, thank you, Birdie. Can I tell you a secret?”

  She leaned in curiously. “Yes!”

  I lowered my voice for effect. “Most days, I’d rather kiss a frog.”

  She gasped. “And then he’d turn into a prince! My mommy read me a story like that once.”

  My heart clenched. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. I don’t remember it too much. But I know there was a frog and a kiss and a prince.”

  “That sounds like a cool story, though.”

  She fell silent for a moment before she said, “Do you know my mother died?”

  “Yes. I did know that, actually.”

  Guilt crept up. Magdalene had told me about Amanda last week, but little did they know I knew way more than anyone could have ever imagined. Suddenly I was reminded of the fact that I was an imposter.

  “She died when I was seven.”

  I’d promised myself I would do everything in my power not to bond with this little girl today. I needed to let the urge to do that go. Unfortunately, the need to show her that she wasn’t alone was even greater.

  “I lost my mom when I was around your age, too.”

  The look on her face transformed from one of sadness to wonder. “You did?”

  It was as if she’d never heard anyone say that before.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “She died of cancer.”

  “Mine too!”

  My heart felt so heavy that I could have sworn it was weighing me down. She looked so relieved to know that someone had been through what she had. It made me happy I’d chosen to open up.

  “Did you ever stop thinking about her? I’m afraid I’ll forget her when I get older. I only remember a little now.”

  Trying to reassure her, I said, “I never forgot the things I remembered when I was your age. Because those memories are so important and precious that they are branded into us. And I have a great dad who also made sure I never forgot her, either. But you know the number one reason you’ll never be able to forget her?”

  “What?”

  I pointed to my heart. “Because she’s right here. Always. She’s a part of you and you carry her inside your heart every day. You can’t forget your own heart and you won’t.”

  Birdie closed her eyes and whispered, “Yeah. Okay.”

  This moment was one I would never forget. Even if I never saw Birdie again, at least I knew I was able to make her feel a little less alone in this world. The entire time she’d been communicating with me as Santa, the one thing I’d always wanted to say to her was: “Me too. I know how you’re feeling.”

  “I’m really happy I met you. I’ve never met anyone who lost their mom young like me.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Well
, maybe we were meant to meet, so you could know there are other people out there just like you.”

  Magdalene’s eyes were glistening.

  When I realized I might have taken things a bit too far emotionally, I hopped up. “Well, let’s get back to training Marmaduke, shall we?”

  The dog looked like he was half-asleep, enjoying the breeze with his tongue hanging out.

  Birdie and I got him up and once again took turns reciting the commands in German and rewarding Marmaduke as he earned the treats. Everything was going as normal until that puppy from earlier entered his line of sight again. Then it became clear that perhaps our luck in trying to tame him this afternoon had run out.

  We led him out of the park and began the trek back to Birdie’s house.

  Once back at the brownstone, Magdalene insisted I stay for a few extra minutes before leaving so that I could taste a dish that she’d been cooking all day in the Crock-Pot. The three of us were at the table and had just finished up the stew when we noticed an odd noise coming from Marmaduke in the next room.

  When we got up from our seats, it didn’t take long to realize he was choking on something.

  He’s choking.

  The dog is choking.

  Full-fledged panic set in.

  Everything from there on in happened so fast.

  I had just been watching a video the other night on what to do if a dog started choking. YouTube had recommended it because it was related to my dog-training search results. I remembered thinking maybe it would be good to watch it, since I’d be taking the dog out one more time. But good God, I never thought I’d have to use any of those skills.

  I struggled to remember the instructions from the tutorial as I stepped into action, standing behind the dog and placing my arms around his body.

  Think.

  Think.

  Think.

  Making a fist with my left hand, I placed my thumb against his stomach and with my other hand, I pushed upward toward Marmaduke’s shoulders. Unsure if I was doing it correctly, I kept repeating this motion until I heard Magdalene yell, “It’s out!”