The Luck of the Paw (An Alpine Grove Romantic Comedy Book 9)

by Susan C. Daffron

  “I understand how confusing that would be.” Kat gestured toward the forest. “Moving here caused me to learn a lot of things about my family I never knew. It was stressful at the time, but I’m glad I found out.”

  “Really?” Mia glanced at Kat, who was gazing off into the distance. “That makes me feel a little better, I guess. Do you know anyone other than your aunt who lived here twenty years ago?”

  Kat turned back to look at her. “Actually, now that you mention it, I do. Several people, in fact. You could start with the Sullivans. Tracy works at the vet clinic. She grew up at the commune and her mom, Bea, owns the gift store in town.”

  “There was a commune?”

  Kat grinned. “Yeah, although now the land is a nature preserve, I think. Normally, Tracy hates talking about it, but if you give her wine, she’ll start telling funny stories from her flower-child days. Her mom is incredibly nice too.”

  “Maybe I’ll get up my nerve and talk to them. I guess it wouldn’t hurt.”

  “You’ll never know if you don’t ask. Tracy is coming over tomorrow night with a couple of other people. We’ve got to talk about PR stuff for the dog-rescue group I’m involved with, but it will probably turn into a Wine and Whine. If you want to come, you’re welcome to join us.”

  “What’s a wine and…what did you say?”

  “Wine and Whine. It’s a girls’ night in. We drink and talk randomly about whatever is going on. Work, men, critters, happenings on the mean streets of Alpine Grove. The usual stuff.”

  Mia giggled nervously. The idea of meeting more people was disturbing, particularly once they realized what a freak she was. But maybe it would be worth it if she got the information she wanted. She made an effort to sound enthusiastic. “Thanks, it sounds like it might be fun.”

  On the way back to town from the kennel, Mia picked up her tire and waited while they checked all the other tires and put the spare back on the back door of the RAV. She felt a happy sense of security, knowing that Flicka had a spare tire again, given all the miles she was going to be logging.

  Back at the H12, Mia curled up on the bed to relax with her novel. She paged through, trying to remember how much she had heard Chris read before she’d fallen asleep. The phone rang and she jolted upright, dropping the book onto the bed. Maybe she should turn down the ringer.

  She smiled when she heard Chris say hello. His radio voice worked nicely over the telephone too. She asked, “How was your day?”

  He paused for long enough that Mia wondered for a second if they’d been disconnected. Finally, he continued, “I feel bad about saying this, but I don’t think I can see you tonight.”

  Mia tried not to sigh audibly into the handset. He wouldn’t be the first person to figure out that she had a whole lot of baggage. Chris wasn’t stupid, after all. “That’s okay. Did something happen with the guy building the hutch…house?”

  “No, that was fine. This sounds like a lame excuse, but I have to wash my dog. I tried and it turns out Lulu really hates water. Mostly, I’ve soaked myself and the room. Now she’s squeezed herself under the bed and refuses to come out.”

  Mia tried not to laugh. Given all of her misadventures with Gizmo, the situation was all too easy to imagine. “Do you need help? I managed to wash Gizmo in the bathroom of an Airstream. If I can do that, hosing down a little poodle in an actual bathtub should be easy.”

  “Would you mind? Maybe it would be better with two people. She’s really spry for an older dog. Not to mention slippery.”

  “What did you say your room number was?”

  “One fifty-six. Go around back and the door is one of the ones that faces toward the RV park. Once Lulu is clean, I’ll take you to dinner as a thank you.”

  “Okay, I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

  Mia smiled as she hung up the phone. This was the first time she’d looked forward to seeing another human being in ages. She’d forgotten to ask why he was so intent on washing Lulu. Hmm. One thing was certain: she didn’t need to worry about dressing up to wash a dog.

  Driving around Alpine Grove all day had been enjoyable and the trip north to the Enchanted Moose was no exception. Fall was bursting forth in its last few gasps of color and the sky was a crisp, brilliant blue. Although Windiberg had seasons, the changes were nowhere near as dramatic as they were here in the mountains.

  Half of the Enchanted Moose appeared to be under construction and Mia drove around to the back and parked in front of the RV park. It was nicer than the Edgewood Paradise Estates, if for no other reason than that there was some degree of landscaping with grassy picnic areas and trees, rather than ugly spans of asphalt with tiny strips of dried-out weather-beaten sod between the parking spaces.

  She knocked on the door of room one fifty-six and Chris opened it a crack, peeking out before he moved aside quickly to let her in. He gave her a “move it” gesture, hustling her inside and slamming the door.

  Mia looked up at his face. “Are you afraid Lulu is going to make a break for it?”

  “She’s not happy with me.” Chris wrung the bottom of his soggy t-shirt with both hands and water dripped on the floor. “I tried again, and it was a massive failure.”

  Mia bent to look under the bed. Two eyes reflected back at her. “How did you get her out?”

  “Food. It worked before, but now she’s on to me. She may never come out of there.”

  “What’s that smell?”

  “Lulu. I think she rolled in something. I let her off her leash when I was down at the shoreline talking to the developer, so she could go do her business.”

  “Why did you do that, after she ran up the hill yesterday?”

  “That’s the only time she’s ever run off and I figured it was because of your dog. I didn’t want her to pee on the guy’s foot or something while we were standing there. And I figured she must be tired out. Running up the hill was more exercise than she’s had in years.” He waved his arms helplessly. “I swear, Lulu is normally the most mellow dog. She never gives my sister any trouble.”

  “Lulu is your sister’s dog?”

  “Yes. I had to fly into LA to come up here and stopped by her place to visit because she was having knee surgery. I agreed to take Lulu to Alpine Grove with me, since it’s kind of hard for her to deal with a dog while she’s recovering. ‘It will be fun,’ she said. Yeah, right.”

  “I guess the first thing we need to do is get her to come out from under the bed. Do you have any snacks? I mean people food, not dog food. Nothing healthy. The junkier, the better.”

  “I have some chips.” He walked to the desk and grabbed a bag. “Ruffles have ridges.”

  “So I’ve heard.” Mia took the bag and sat down with her back leaning on the foot of the bed and her legs out in front of her. She patted the floor. “Sit next to me.”

  Chris settled in next to her and reached into the bag for a chip. “I think I see where you’re going with this idea.”

  Mia made extra crinkly noises as she extracted a Ruffle. “Yummy. I love these things. Fattening, salty, greasy potatoes.”

  A scrabbling noise came from behind them and Mia raised her eyebrows at Chris. “Gosh, I’d love to share these. Gizmo can probably feel a psychic vibe that I’m eating chips without him. If he were here, his head would be right here on my leg.” Mia patted her thigh a few times. “When it comes to begging, it’s amazing how effective a heavy head can be. Suddenly, I feel compelled to share whatever I’m eating.”

  Lulu crept out and around the side of the bed and looked up imploringly at Mia with a tentative wag. Chris started to move and Mia put her hand on his arm. “I think there might be a hungry poodle here somewhere.”

  Chris smiled. “Probably starving.”

  Mia held out a chip in Lulu’s direction. “So, what are you waiting for?” The little dog launched at the chip and snuffled it down. Mia patted her leg. “Don’t you want to hang out? Even though you smell like rotten dead fish, I’m not holding it against you, I promi
se.”

  Mia fed Lulu a few more chips and let the soggy poodle settle into her lap. She stroked the dog’s wet fur and turned to look at Chris. “Did you put water in the tub?”

  “Yes, although the dunking process did not go well, so I’m not sure how much is still in the tub.”

  “It’s probably cold too. Let it drain out and we’ll try a different approach.” She looked up at the desk. “Is that an ice bucket?”

  Chris got up. “I’m guessing you don’t want me to put ice in it.”

  “No, but I was thinking Lulu might be afraid of running water. We can use the bucket to pour water on her.” Mia scooped up the soggy poodle in her arms. “We’re going to try to make this as easy on you as possible Lulu, but you do have to cooperate. You need to get clean because Chris has to share this room with you, and you smell really bad.”

  Lulu started to squirm as Mia carried her into the evil domain of watery torture. Mia kicked the door closed behind her and faced Chris. “Okay, here’s the plan. It looks like you’ve got the shampoo ready. Once the water is done draining, lay a towel in the tub, and put warm water from the sink in the ice bucket. I’ll put her on the towel, so it’s not so slippery for her. Then we’ll hold her and pour water on her. Then soap, then rinse.”

  Chris nodded and did as instructed. Mia put Lulu on the towel, holding her firmly while she tried to come up with nice things to say about the stinky dog. What a revolting smell. Good thing Mia’s stomach was back to normal. Pungent fishy odors were the last thing she needed.

  Chris assisted as Mia washed and rinsed the small dog while continuing to softly console her about the indignity of bath time. It took quite a while, because she had to do two shampoo–and-rinse passes to remove the smell. Thank goodness Lulu wasn’t Gizmo’s size or they’d have been there for hours.

  At last, Mia finished, gave Lulu a final potato chip, and let go. “Okay, go for it, Lulu. Shake yourself!”

  Lulu shook her body from head to toe multiple times, spraying water everywhere, and dancing around in the tub. Mia lifted her out and let her run around the tile, then toweled her off while Chris watched. He laughed, “It’s like she’s possessed. Watch out for the demon poodle!”

  Finally, Mia opened the door and Lulu charged into the room, shaking and then stopping to lick a paw in disgust. She glared at them for a moment, ran into her sky kennel, and plopped herself down onto the bed, licking one of her front legs maniacally. Chris shut the door to the kennel behind her and turned to smile at Mia. “Mission accomplished.”

  Mia looked down at her sodden t-shirt, shrugged, and raised her fist in victory. “Go team!”

  “Thanks for your help. I wasn’t sure what to do.” He gave her a mocking leer. “You look like you’re ready for your wet t-shirt contest now.”

  “So do you.”

  “Yeah, but your t-shirt is a lot more interesting.”

  Mia attempted to wring some water out of the bottom of her shirt. It had been a long time since anyone had made a flirty comment to her. “I don’t suppose you have one I can borrow, do you?”

  “Okay.” He grinned. “I owe you dinner and if you wear that, you might cause a commotion among all those guys in the parking lot working on the Enchanted Moose remodel project.”

  She gave his shoulder a playful shove. “Shut up and give me a t-shirt. I’m hungry.”

  He turned and handed her a navy blue t-shirt with University of California, Berkeley emblazoned across the front. “Enjoy.”

  She held up the t-shirt in front of her, and then headed into the bathroom to change. This t-shirt was the closest she’d ever gotten to higher education.

  On her way out of the bathroom, Mia collected all the soggy towels. She went around the room finding places to hang them up. Chris went into the bathroom, grabbed another towel, and attempted to wipe up the water that had been sprayed around virtually every surface.

  He hung his towel on a rack, peeled off his t-shirt, and yanked on another Berkeley one. “I really hope housekeeping doesn’t make surprise visits. They aren’t going to like what they find here.”

  Distracted by the glimpse of half-naked man and wondering if she should care that they were going to look like twinsie over-the-top Cal fans, Mia just nodded. Chris definitely didn’t look like a turkey vulture anymore. She never would have expected that someone who was so skinny and funny-looking in high school could morph into a nice-looking guy.

  Although Chris did still have the same expressive round eyes she remembered from high school, he often had such a warm, kind look that she had started to forget about the cartoon factor. She cleared her throat. “I suppose by the time you check out, the horrible smell of Lulu might be gone. Maybe.”

  “We can only hope.” He gestured toward the door. “Ready to eat?”

  “Lead the way.”

  They crossed the parking lot toward the restaurant. It had a classic old-fashioned diner look, and if the attire of other patrons was any indication, Mia didn’t have to worry about being under-dressed for the occasion.

  After they settled into a booth, a waitress came by, plunked some paper placemats and silverware rolls on the table, and handed them menus. Chris opened the plastic booklet, gave it a glance, and closed it again. “I’ve eaten here enough that I think I have this thing memorized.”

  “When did you get to Alpine Grove?”

  “A couple of weeks ago, although I had to fly back once for a meeting. That was when I boarded Lulu at the kennel. I miss my kitchen more than anything. Eating out gets boring when you have to do it for every meal.”

  “It’s more exciting when your dinner companion barfs, although that may not be the type of excitement you want.”

  Chris laughed. “That’s very true. You seem a lot better today.”

  “It was a good day. I spent lots of time with dogs, which is better than data entry.”

  “Data entry must be pretty bad, if washing a smelly poodle mix was an improvement.”

  “I made my peace with it, but every day I don’t have to sit in that cubicle, I feel better. Part of me still can’t quite believe I don’t have to go back there.”

  The waitress returned and after they ordered, Chris pulled a blue crayon out of a mug that was sitting next to the ketchup. He began doodling something on the paper placemat. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do next?”

  Mia leaned across the table. “Is that a happy carrot?”

  “Well, you wouldn’t want me to draw a sad carrot, would you?” He looked up and grinned. “Here, let’s give him an Airstream to hang out in.”

  “Hey, that’s not bad! Mine was a lot more beat-up than that though. You see the new ones and they’re all pretty and shiny, but I can tell you they don’t stay that way. Those people at the trailer park will be lucky if they can find someone desperate enough to rent that thing again. It’s falling apart.”

  “Well, if I completely screw up this project on the lake, maybe I’ll move in. It would be better than moving back in with my parents.”

  “Parents weren’t an option for me, but you’re right, once you’re out of your twenties, people tend to think you’re pathetic if you’re crashing with mom and dad.”

  Chris stopped doodling. “I’m sorry for bringing that up again. I don’t know what is wrong with me. It’s just that you’re easy to talk to, so I say what’s on my mind without censoring myself. But you probably think I’m an insensitive jerk.”

  “It’s okay. I’ve spent so much time avoiding ever talking or even thinking about my mother and everything that happened, it’s like I’m numb to comments about family, I guess.”

  Chris drew a frown face, crossed it out, and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I understand why you were so eager to get out of Windiberg. For one thing, it smells really bad there. You won’t realize this until you go back. After my first semester of college I went back home for Christmas break and couldn’t believe how gross it was.”

  Mia shook her he
ad. “Everyone always says that, but I have no intention of ever returning. I’ll just take your word for it.”

  “I was thinking about it and I understand why you pushed people away in high school. Family stuff that bad doesn’t come out of nowhere.”

  “My home life was completely screwed up and I felt like everyone knew. Or maybe I wanted them to know. It’s like I wanted to be invisible, but for someone to notice how unhappy I was at the same time. That probably doesn’t make any sense.”

  Chris looked down at the crayon in his hand. “No, it does. I get it. Is that why you wore, uh, what you wore back then?”

  “Probably. I always felt like an outsider. Like people could tell that my mom wasn’t like other moms. Everything was dictated by her mood swings. If she was happy, it was all sunshine and unicorns. But when she sank down into one of the lows, it was awful. And let’s just say marrying Howard didn’t help matters.”

  “It sounded like he was pretty messed up.”

  “Yeah, and it got worse over time. When Mom was in one of her moods, he’d go off to a bar and get drunk. I went to the library, then after it closed, I’d go study at that Denny’s on Jefferson Street. They were nice about letting me hang out and do my homework if I bought something. I drank a lot of coffee, which probably only added to the doom-and-gloom look. Dark circles under your eyes aren’t attractive. You end up with zombie Elvira, which is even worse than regular Elvira.”

  He moved his hand across the table and covered hers. “I wish I’d been nicer to you in high school.”

  “Well, I wasn’t nice to you either. I thought you were a total geek. Your brainy crowd of people did not associate with freakazoids like me.”

  “True. I never really thought about why the freaks might be, well, freaky, you know? Mostly I was too worried about what other people were thinking about me.”

  “And we freaks were worried about what you were thinking, which is really just sad in retrospect.” Mia smiled. “As you know, I still am not exactly Ms. Personality and have all kinds of problems communicating with people, but nothing has ever been as bad as high school.”