by Rozsa Gaston
"When are they due back this afternoon?" she asked.
"They told me they'd swing by my place around five to pick up Percy."
"That doesn't give us much time." She shuddered then thought a moment. "Is there somewhere to go for a fast run in your neighborhood?"
"There's the high school track at the bottom of the hill near my house."
"Good. While you're doing whatever you need to do, I'll take a run down there."
"You can shower at my place afterwards," he offered.
"No shower. I want to get as sweaty as possible so Percy smells me while we're barbecuing. We've got to try whatever it takes to attract him back to his own backyard."
"Great. I can hardly wait to smell you myself." He pulled a strand of her hair. "Should I also resist cleaning myself up?"
"No. You need to clean up." She smiled at him playfully. "He doesn't know your smell. He knows mine. So go get the steaks, if you're offering." She pointed toward Bronxville's main street. "The butcher's closed Sundays, but there's a supermarket two blocks in that direction."
"Meet you back here in half an hour."
"Stay in the car. I'll come down." She grabbed the two sleeping bags and got out. He watched her enter her building then drove off. For once, he hoped Brian O'Connell had been spying on her. Maybe he'd add things up and realize Hint was off the market, if she was being delivered home at eight in the morning.
He picked up three large sirloin steaks and four ears of corn at the store. He was ready to eat a horse. To stave off starvation, he also got bagels and coffee with the Sunday paper then drove back to Hint's building to wait outside in his car.
A minute later, she was next to him, her hair wet and smelling delicious. She wore a fresh tee shirt and running shorts.
"Hey, no fair. You did take a shower," he said.
"Yes, but I'm not taking another one after I run. I just needed to wash my hair."
"It smells great. What did you put on it?"
"Something from one of those magic bottles in my bathroom," she explained.
"Well worth it. I applaud your support of the toiletries industry."
"Drive. And thanks for the coffee." She took a sip from the foam cup he had handed her. "Mmm. Hazelnut. Delicious."
"Not just any old hazelnut. Chocolate hazelnut." He'd seen that flavor of coffee in her kitchen cupboard the other morning when he'd made coffee for her.
"I like it. What else is in there?" She indicated the paper bag lying in his lap.
"A bagel for my lady."
"What's on it?"
"Butter."
"How did you know I liked butter on my bagel?"
"I'm getting to know you." He hadn't had any idea, but he'd bought one with butter and one with cream cheese, just to cover all bases. He congratulated himself on guessing correctly as he handed the buttered bagel to her.
"Hmm." She rolled down her window as he swung out of Meadow Lane onto Bronxville's main road. In another minute, they were on the highway heading toward Jack's home.
Suddenly, he remembered that he hadn't picked up around the house last time he'd been there. He hoped she'd forgive his lack of domestic skills. What was the point of picking up when there was no one around to notice?
After twenty-five minutes, they were in Pleasantville, in mid-Westchester County. It took him five more minutes to navigate the back roads on the way to his house. Finally, after climbing a long, gentle hill, he pulled into the driveway of his neat, pale yellow, clapboard farmhouse.
"It's beautiful," Hint exclaimed, jumping out of the car.
"It's a former pickle farm. The farmhouse had been restored by the previous owners, so it was move-in ready when I bought it."
"When was that?" she asked, looking up at a tall, stately maple tree in his front yard.
"About three years ago."
"I love your trees," she said.
"Wait till you see the ones out back."
Quickly, he led her through the house to the back deck, conscious of the piles of unopened junk mail on the kitchen table and the basket of dirty laundry next to the washer and dryer in the butler's pantry. If he could just get her out to the back, she might maintain her favorable first impression.
"Here's where my favorite trees are," he said as they stepped out the sliding glass door to the back deck.
Hint said nothing, taking in the expanse of Jack's backyard. The breeze ruffled her hair as she leaned over the deck railing. While she surveyed the three tall trees, he marveled at the myriad shades of red and dark gold mingled in her hair. The variety was uncountable.
"They're beautiful," she finally said. "What kind of trees are they?"
"That one's a maple, like the one in front." He pointed to the tallest tree directly in front of them. "Then there's a chestnut over here. And that one in the corner is an oak."
"I like the oak the best."
He smiled. That was Prayer, his friend and counselor on quiet summer evenings when he sat out here alone, a cold beer in hand.
"Why?" he couldn't help asking.
"I don't know. It looks almost human, somehow. Like a watchman protecting your property." She paused.
"He is sort of doing that. Or so Marguerite says."
"It's a he, huh? Does he have a name?" She looked at him out of the corner of one eye.
"Yes, as a matter of fact. He does." He wasn't ready to share it with her just yet. Would she think he was nuts to have a tree named Prayer?
"Are you going to tell me what it is?" she asked.
"No, but maybe Marguerite will."
"I'll ask her next week." A smile flickered on her face. She seemed pleased to remember their plans for next weekend. Would not finding Percy throw a kink in them? He hoped she could separate whatever feelings she had for him from their dog hunt, no matter what its outcome.
"I'll go for my run now, if you show me which way the track is," she said.
"Sure," he agreed, pride washing over him in introducing her to his neighborhood. "It's right down this hill on the other side of the street. Probably less than an eighth of a mile."
"Great. See you in about thirty minutes."
He watched as her slender form jogged down the hill. Then he turned and bounded upstairs, taking them two at a time. They were going to find the dog that day. If Hint thought so, then he did, too. Great minds think alike, it was said. Greatly in-sync minds think alike, too, as far as he was concerned.
Within twenty minutes he was showered, shaved, and dressed. Back downstairs, he slipped a container of his sister's homemade potato salad he had found in his fridge into an ice cooler, along with a few cans of ginger ale, two bottles of beer, and some water. Going out to his car to load the cooler into his trunk, he spotted Hint slowly jogging up the hill. As he watched her approach, it struck him that she was the first woman visiting his home to guess that his trees had names.
"Sweaty enough?" he asked.
"I'm pretty smelly. Great track." Breathing heavily, she climbed the porch steps and leaned against one of the white support columns with both hands to stretch her calf muscles.
"Percy will be happy," he commented. "Ready for a barbecue?"
"Ready for a cold drink."
He returned with a bottle of ice-cold water and a small towel, which he slung around her neck. Surreptitiously, he inhaled as he leaned toward her, enjoying her sweaty, natural scent.
An hour later, they were back in Tom and Nicole's backyard. Hint had brought a few of Percy's squeaky toys.
"Should we start the grill then take a walk around while it's firing up?" she asked.
"Sure. Let's bring a couple of these while we're looking." He picked out a bedraggled white stuffed cat, handed it to her, then took a red and white ball for himself. Squeezing it, he laughed at its gasping squeak. He pushed the cooler holding food and drinks under one of the chaise longues out of the sun fired up the grill and closed the top. It would take a few minutes to heat up before they could slap on the steaks.
<
br /> They started down the driveway.
"Looks different in the daytime, huh?" he asked.
"A little less scary than last night when the coyote was howling."
"A little less exciting too," he continued.
"No flamenco music coming from the neighbor's house," she said.
"Or from inside your head." He smiled at her, remembering her visions from the night before. She had seen Percy lying in long grass. Where could that have been? All around them were well-manicured lawns and tidy sidewalks.
"Why don't we walk through the meadow behind the backyard?" she suggested.
"The meadow?" Then he remembered the wild, undeveloped piece of land that lay beyond the backyard. "Oh, right." He led the way past the far side of the house into the tall grass on the other side of the low stone fence that bordered Tom and Nicole's property. He squeaked the ball from time to time. Each time he did, Hint followed with a squeak from the stuffed cat. Already a savory scent wafted from the grill, left over from remnants of whatever Tom and Nicole had cooked last time they had used it.
Suddenly, Hint stopped short. "What's that sound?"
Jack paused. Something was rustling in the grass up ahead just to the right.
"Percy?" he tried.
"Percy," Hint whispered then squeaked the cat. "Good boy. Come on, boy. Come here."
Silence followed.
Jack wanted to hear her call for Snuggle Bunny, but he didn't want to embarrass her. It was a hands-off sort of nickname, like Prayer for his oak tree.
"Hey, buddy. Come over here," he stage-whispered.
A flash of gray zipped past them up ahead.
"Percy," she sang out. She moved in the direction where the animal had gone, but it had disappeared.
"Do you think that was him?" he asked.
"I don't know." She gave him an unexpectedly confident look. "But let's believe it was."
They fanned out, each squeaking a toy, slowly walking through the field. No more creatures crossed their paths.
Finally, Jack made his way back to Hint. He found her crouched down at the base of a broad maple tree, examining an opening amidst its roots.
"Something in there?"
"Not now. But it looks like some sort of animal's home." She glanced back at him, her face animated. "Do you think he might have slept there at night or to get out of the rain?"
"I don't know. Why don't you rub his squeaky cat around the opening? Then if he comes back, maybe he'll follow its scent to the patio."
"Good idea." She dragged the stuffed animal along the ground and on the tree roots around the hole's opening. Soon the dirty white toy was completely gray. Standing up, she shook it out then signaled she was ready to go. He caught her scrutinizing the banged-up side of his face.
"How'm I doing?" He pointed to his shiner.
"It's turning yellow, which means it's healing. Why don't we slap a steak on your face for a minute before we grill it?"
"What's that supposed to do?" he asked, as they headed back to Tom and Nicole's property.
"They say there are enzymes in the meat that help heal bruises. In any case, it's cold, so it will help reduce the swelling."
"Awesome. You won't be the only one to attract Percy with your smell."
She punched his arm then ran ahead. He jogged behind her to the patio, again admiring her slim, cello shape, for reasons unrelated to music.
"You check the grill. I'll get the steaks," she ordered.
He complied, turning down the temperature slightly on the fully-fired grill. Then he reached into the cooler and pulled out two ginger ales.
"Not for me, right now," she said. She was carving something into one of the raw steaks. Peering over her shoulder, he saw she had made an X on the meat with her knife.
"I've got beer in here too, if you're in the mood," he offered.
"I'll be in the mood when Percy saunters into range, and we've got his leash on."
"I like your confidence."
"Lie back and put this on your face" was her response.
Once he reclined, her fingertips dabbed at his left temple, laying the cold slab of steak on his eye. The sensation was refreshing; the smell unusual, but not unpleasant. He felt a tingling sensation, as if the meat was drawing something out of his skin.
He jumped up after several pleasant minutes, slapped the slab of meat with the X on it that had just been on his face onto the grill, then grabbing the other two she handed him. "Time for steak?"
"The one with the X is for Percy, okay?" she told him.
"I gathered that. But if he doesn't show up, can I eat it?"
"He'll show up." Her voice was firmer than he'd ever heard it sound before. She unpacked a pale blue, purple, and green striped tablecloth then laid out cutlery, plates, and glasses on it, along with the potato salad he'd brought. She also pulled out a container of perfectly ripe cut-up watermelon.
In less than fifteen minutes, the steaks were done. Jack piled two onto a serving plate, leaving the third one on the grill, which he turned off. The scent of the grilled meat was out of this world. Even a rock would work up an appetite. He certainly had.
Salivating madly, he joined Hint at the patio table. "Here's to Percy," he toasted, raising his can of ginger ale.
"Here's to Percy with us." Her voice was serene and confident, but her hand trembled as she picked up her drink.
"Here's to us," he rejoined.
She said nothing, but her eyes sparkled as she clinked his soda can. Then she cut a large piece of steak and forked it into her mouth.
"Nice. You can cook," she said approvingly.
"I can grill. And I have access to the best potato salad in the universe." He served her his sister's potato salad.
"This is great. What's in it?" she asked, after taking a bite.
"Bacon. And horseradish to give it some edge. One of my sister's best dishes."
"Umm. Your sister is gifted. Percy would gobble this up."
"Will gobble this up," he corrected her. Picking up one of the less dirty squeaky toys, he squeezed it.
Several minutes later, Hint pushed back her seat with a sigh. The steaks were gone, except for the one left on the grill. Large, white, puffy clouds lounged overhead, dotting a china blue sky.
Idly, she picked up the filthy stuffed cat and squeaked it. "Do you think we should put the last steak down on the ground on the edge of the patio?"
"Let's cut it up and put part of it down," he suggested. "That way, if an animal other than Percy shows up, we'll still have something left for him." He cut the remaining steak into several pieces, put some on a paper plate, then walked to the edge of the patio, where he put the plate on the ground.
Minutes passed. For Jack, they weren't empty, but full of being there with Hint.
"I think I'm ready for a beer," she finally said, surprising him.
"With pleasure, my lady." He opened the cooler, extracting two bottles of ice-cold Pilsners. With a practiced touch, he held them both in one hand, twisting off the tops with the other. He handed her one.
She took a long draught. "Ahhh. That tastes good. And I usually don't drink beer." She slowly swung back her head, her neck arched, as she searched the sky.
"Relaxing already? I'm surprised," he said. She'd just told him she wouldn't have a beer until Percy was within range. He couldn't figure her out. Ever.
"I'm celebrating Percy's return," she explained.
"You are, huh? That's funny, because I don't see him anywhere."
"Ye of little faith," Hint admonished him. "Didn't you say that to me recently?"
"I might have," Jack admitted. What did that have to do with anything?
"Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of…"
"Things not seen," he finished for her. The verse from the Book of Hebrews in the New Testament was one of his favorites.
"Right. So drink your beer and believe," Hint commanded.
"Good call." Taking a long draught, he relished
the sting of the cold, foamy liquid as it went down his throat. While he drank, he told himself the dog was back. If Hint could believe it, so could he. "Ahh, there's something about a warm day and a cold beer that goes together," he finally remarked.
"You can say that again," she agreed.
"There's something about—" He stopped short. A movement just beyond the patio had caught his eye. Something was out there in the brush.
She looked to see why he hadn't finished his sentence then glanced in the same direction.
Frozen, he held the beer bottle midair, afraid to move. Something gray was coming out of the bushes, moving toward the paper plate on the ground.
Jack lightly squeaked the red and white ball he held. If it was Percy, he'd respond. If it wasn't, the noise would scare off whatever was out there.
The small animal stopped, its ears perking up.
"It's him," Hint whispered, not moving a muscle.
Together they stared as Percy found his way to the plate and gobbled up the steak.
Stealthily, Jack moved to the grill and slid the other pieces of steak onto a second plate. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hint fish out a blue leash from the same bag that had held the dog's squeaky toys.
The sound of the rustling paper bag caught the schnoodle's attention. Warily, he looked up.
"Percy," Hint murmured, gesturing to Jack for the plate.
He handed it to her. The dog didn't seem ready to bolt, but he wasn't rushing into her arms either. Jack noted the matted, bedraggled condition of his coat. Apparently, he hadn't had an easy time of it out there.
"Come here, boy. Here, Snuggle Bunny. Some more steak for you." She put the dish down in front of her, crouching behind it.
Percy sniffed. He moved forward two steps then stopped. Jack remained motionless. He knew he'd bungle it if he made a big, sweeping man-sized move. He'd wait to see what Hint did, then help her, if it looked like she couldn't collar the schnoodle.
"Good, Percy. Good, boy. Come on, Snuggle Boy. This steak's for you." She gently moved the plate another foot in his direction then retreated, still crouching.
The dog didn't take his eyes off the steak. Slowly, he inched forward. Finally, he reached his goal and gobbled down the meat.
Leash in hand, Hint sprang forward. In one smooth move, she grabbed the dog's collar. He twitched at her touch, but continued to devour the bits on the plate. Quickly, she snapped the leash onto his collar then moved back to give him room.