Rescued

Home > LGBT > Rescued > Page 3
Rescued Page 3

by Adan Ramie


  “He deserves a chance to have some happiness. He has never been loved before,” Chuck pleaded with her absent sister. “I know you think I have no more room in my heart or my apartment for another animal, but with Stella’s help, I know we can make his remaining years good ones. Please, Bren. Think about it.”

  At this point in the conversation, she knew her sister would make up her mind: either she would crack and give in, or Stanley’s fate would be sealed forever.

  Chuck turned at the next corner, walked another two blocks, then turned again. The only thing the owners of Saving Gracie’s Homeless Pet Shelter shared the little dead end road with was a bakery, which was nice, because it brought them to people’s attention – and because she could always run in and grab Brenda something fresh and gooey to sweeten her up before she asked a favor.

  A computerized chime hummed through the little shop when Chuck pushed the door open. “Knock, knock,” she called out to the empty room. She peeked into the display case and saw exactly what she was looking for: a beautiful, freshly-glazed bear claw that Brenda wouldn’t be able to resist.

  From the back, a harried voice answered, “I’m coming! So sorry!”

  Chuck smiled. The little old woman never seemed to catch up with her immense work load, but she was never anything but cheerful, even when she was exhausted.

  “My apologies, Miss Billard,” Mrs. Vines said as she came into the room, wiping her hands on her apron and grabbing a pastry box. “What trouble did you get yourself into this time?” she asked, a gentle scold in her voice.

  Chuck blushed. The old woman and her husband, the baker, knew her too well. She rubbed the hand not holding the flowers along the shorn back of her head. “Is it that obvious?”

  “Mr. Vines,” the old woman called out. “Does Chuck ever come in when she hasn’t done something to make her sister angry?”

  An immensely tall old man peeked out the door, then stomped forward on enormous feet to shake her hand vigorously. “Sure she does,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “Sometimes she comes in when she’s trying to ask a favor of her. Or when she’s got a new girlfriend.”

  Chuck couldn’t help but laugh at the old man. In the five years since they had shared the end of the little road off the main strip with the hard-working elderly couple, they had become something like family. It was nice, especially since Chuck had little to no contact with most of her real family.

  “What are you trying to convince that poor young woman to do today?” Mrs. Vines asked, and propped her fists on her wide hips. “Steal an elephant from the zoo?”

  “You mean ‘rescue’,” Chuck pointed out.

  The old woman waved her words away with hands red from years of hot dish water. “Whatever you call it, your heart sometimes gets ahead of your brain.” She gave Chuck a somber look. “One day you will push her too far, and I would hate to see that come between you sisters. Did I ever tell you I had a sister once?” She had. “My older sister, Blanche. She was gorgeous. Boys came from miles around to ask her to dances and fawn over her like fools. I have to admit, I was always a little jealous, and one night, I told her date-to-be that she had gone out with someone else. It incensed her so much, she went off into the night on her high heels after his car. I never saw her again.”

  “Now, Mrs. Vines, Chuck doesn’t want to hear that old story again. She knows she has to treat her sister well. Don’t you, Chuck?” Mr. Vines patted his wife on the shoulder as Chuck nodded like a bobble-head. “Besides, without people like her, I would have no faith left in humanity.”

  Chuck smiled. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mr. Vines.”

  “Well, I suppose you will want something for your sister. Lord knows we’ve never even seen her face, you bring her deliveries so often.” The old woman gave Chuck a look that tried to be fierce, but succeeded in just looking mischievous.

  “One bear claw, please,” Chuck said with a grin, and leaned an elbow on the counter. “And a lemon square. They look delicious.”

  Mrs. Vines put the bear claw into the little box, sealed it, and put it on top of the counter. Then she grabbed a lemon square with a square of wax paper and handed it over. “Mr. Vines just made them this morning, and I dusted them myself.”

  Chuck let herself take in the sight of the treat for only a moment before she raised it to her mouth and took a bite. Immediately, the tart lemon and sweet powdered sugar combined in her mouth with the flaky crust. Chuck let her head loll on her neck as she groaned out her satisfaction. “You have outdone yourselves.”

  The old woman grinned while the old man looked away, embarrassed. He reminded her of Herman Munster with his big, tall body and his innocent personality. Chuck looked around for a place to put the flowers. Mrs. Vines gave an exasperated sigh, placed the bear claw in a bag, and took the flowers from Chuck to place them on top.

  “Four dollars to you,” Mrs. Vines said.

  Chuck handed over the cash, then shook the old man’s hand. “It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Vines.”

  “Let us know if you get what you’re asking for,” he said, then smiled like a much younger man. “I would love to see a real elephant up close.”

  Back at the shelter, Chuck swept inside Brenda’s office with a whistle and a bounce in her step. Before she could put the flowers in a vase or present Brenda with the bear claw, her sister was already talking.

  “I refuse to be bought,” Brenda said. They both knew she would do no such thing.

  Chuck tucked the flowers into the vase she found under the cabinet, added water, then placed it near enough to Brenda that she could smell them.

  “Yeah, yeah. Hand over the food.”

  Chuck grinned and pulled out the box containing the sticky pastry. She had finished her own treat on the way over, but the aroma from her sister’s bribe still made her stomach growl. She soldiered on.

  Brenda took a big, sticky bite, let out a groan to rival her sister’s, and leaned back in her chair. “He must have only made these this morning,” she said in an awe-struck whisper. “The man’s hands are touched by divinity.”

  Chuck sat down against the corner of Brenda’s desk and waited. With each bite, she knew she was getting closer to what she wanted, and she could barely suppress a grin. Brenda noticed and carefully placed the bear claw back into its box and closed it.

  “Good, right?” Chuck asked innocently.

  Brenda scowled. “Don’t think you can buy me off with sweets and flowers like one of your girlfriends.”

  Chuck pretended offense. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have never done such a thing.”

  Brenda rolled her eyes, licked her fingers, and put the box with the half-eaten treat into her desk drawer. She closed it with a snap, then leveled her eyes on Chuck. “Are you sure this girl – what’s her name?”

  “Stella,” Chuck filled in.

  “Are you sure this Stella knows what she’s doing? Because unless every woman who comes to this fundraiser is wet for tomboys with dog drool stains on their shirts, you’re not going to be much help.” She smirked and pushed back her chair.

  Chuck gawked at her, glanced at her shirt to see that, in fact, she did have dog drool stains on it already, then stifled a surprised laugh. “I’ve never heard you talk like that.”

  “Like what?”

  Brenda leaned back as Chuck half-stood and leaned over her desk. “I know you don’t like to talk about moisture.”

  Brenda gagged and shook her head. “You know I don’t like that word.”

  “What, moist?” Chuck laughed and sat back down. She pulled her phone from her pocket, opened the gallery, and flipped it around so Brenda could see the pictures of Stanley she had already taken. “Who could say no to this face?”

  Brenda half-heartedly raised a hand. “It’s going to be a hard road for him. Are you sure you want to put him through that?”

  Chuck set her jaw. “He deserves some happiness.”

  “He deserves to be put out of his misery
,” Brenda responded.

  Chuck stood up, tucked her phone away, and looked down at her sister through wavy bangs that fell nearly over her eyes. “You don’t have to understand, Bren. You just have to be willing to let me try.”

  “You are going to have to get the okay from Kenna. I might have the skills, but she holds the purse strings, and she didn’t sound sold when I asked her this morning.” Brenda sighed, then raised her hands in defeat. “Fine. You’re right: I don’t get it. But I know you mean well, and I know you’ll spoil the heck out of him. If you can get Kenna to sign off on it, I’ll check him over this afternoon, and if it looks like the antibiotics are helping, I will start preparing him for surgery.”

  Chuck skipped around the desk and flung herself into Brenda’s arms for a tight hug. When she pulled back, Brenda’s face was red and halfway between a snarl and a smile. Chuck smiled back. “Thanks. I knew you had a heart in there.”

  Brenda rolled her eyes. “Ugh, fine. Get out so I can get some work done.”

  With Brenda’s blessing, Chuck felt like she could finally breathe again for the first time since she laid eyes on the pitiful Yorkie. She had felt the same way before many times; nine times out of ten, she and Brenda worked together to save the animal. Once in a while, though, the poor thing died, and Brenda’s words would haunt her, sounding just like her father when his advice had come true.

  “Should have put her out of her misery when I said.”

  “Can’t play god with them, Chucky.”

  “I knew we should have quit while we were ahead.”

  Chuck tossed her hair out of her eyes, walked out a side door, and grabbed a shovel. With over forty dogs and other rooting, bleating, and squawking animals of all shapes and sizes, there was a lot of mess to clean, but Chuck didn’t mind it as much as most people might. She found cleaning up after them relaxing. Shovel in hand and earbuds pressed into her ears, she could feel free to let her mind wander wherever it wanted to go, and today, it flitted straight from Stanley to Stella.

  What a beauty. Her hair was a dark, shiny halo that was almost too beautiful to be believed. The way she scrunched her nose when she thought something was funny made her look like a little rabbit, and reminded Chuck of her first pet, Midnight.

  And that body.

  Chuck closed her eyes and leaned on her shovel, ignoring the sniffing and nudging of animals at her heels. Stella’s body curved in all the right places. She was well-made, not frail, but feminine in ways that her soft butch clothes could never hide.

  A wet nose nudged her arm, and Chuck opened her eyes to a Great Dane ready to hop up to look her in the eyes. She rubbed his head and pressed slightly down so he knew she wasn’t in the mood for a face-to-face.

  “How’s it going today, King?” she asked, and scratched behind his ears.

  He wagged his tail and let out a rumble of excitement from his barrel chest. Chuck propped the shovel up against a nearby tree, then bent down to give the big dog a bear hug. He nuzzled his face into her neck and gave her skin a wet kiss.

  “You’re a good boy.”

  She stood and surveyed the scene around her. The plot of land they were on wasn’t much – it definitely wasn’t all she wished they had – but it helped many of the animals in their care get regular exercise, which made it easier to care for them and adopt them out when their time came.

  “I wish I could bring you home with me, too,” she told the dog. “But you are way too big. The landlord would never let me keep you, and that would put me and a whole bunch of other furry guys out of a home. And you wouldn’t want that, would you, boy?”

  The dog panted at her happily, licked her hand, and gave a low bark. She scratched behind both of his ears, then let her short fingernails run down both his sides, and ended with a pat on his wagging tail.

  “Go have some fun with the others. I have work to do.” She nodded her head and he took off, running toward a mutt who loved to play tag. Chuck laughed, grabbed her shovel, and went back to work.

  Immediately, her mind was back on Stella, but it wasn’t on her body or her face. She wondered about what Brenda said. Was Stella just blowing smoke, or was she actually skilled in fundraising? Would they be able to raise enough to save Stanley’s life, and if they did, did Stella really want to co-parent him with her?

  So many thoughts crowded her head, she didn’t stop shoveling until she had all the waste pushed off into a trough. Glancing behind her, she realized she had done more than she came to do, then shrugged it off. A little hard work never hurt anyone. She opened a large barrel and scooped off several mounds of sawdust, coated the top of the waste with it, closed the barrel, and put away the shovel. This, at least, was done. All she had left to do was talk to Kenna. It couldn’t be too hard. Once upon a time, she and Kenna had meant something to each other, and despite the way they ended, and the awkwardness between them now, she could play on a leftover raw heartstring to save the little Yorkie. Surely.

  Sweaty and tired, she rubbed the back of an arm across her forehead, then walked to the door that would lead back into the shelter. She shed her gloves and shoes at the door, then stepped inside in socks to go wash her hands.

  On the way, she passed a woman about her age being led to look at the puppies and nodded hello to the young staff member with her. The boy nodded back and went back to his spiel. Anyone who worked at the shelter had to be well-trained, because one of the things Brenda and Chuck had in common was that as much as they loved the animals, they didn’t want to see any of them come back (or worse, end up in another shelter) due to owner remorse or maltreatment. Kenna encouraged it, because with every animal that left the shelter with a capable owner, their coffers were left fuller than before. None of them would ever be rich, but neither would they go hungry.

  Chuck made it to the bathroom, washed up, and stared at herself in the mirror. Her face was red from exertion, but she felt good, and she smiled at her reflection. The sense of self-confidence was relatively new, and she still relished the knowledge that she actually liked herself every time she felt it.

  “Don’t fall in, Narcissus.”

  The voice from behind her brought a frown to her face. As much as she wished they could get rid of the woman invading her personal space, Brenda and Chuck both knew Kenna was a large part of the team. In fact, her early contribution had earned her over half of the company. Chuck consoled herself with the fact that her ex-girlfriend rarely came out of her office.

  “Hello, Kenna,” Chuck said, her voice cool but calm. “How are you today?”

  “Well enough,” Kenna replied, then started washing her hands. Chuck hated watching, but she did it with a kind of morbid fascination. At first, she thought Kenna’s methodical, intense scrubbing was a nice change from some of the hygienically-challenged women she had dated before, but after a while it got a little weird... then more than a little annoying. “Brought in another lost cause that’s going to cost the shelter a few grand, I noticed.”

  Chuck offered a tight-lipped smile as she dried her hands and tried to avoid Kenna’s eyes. “I’m going to raise the money to foot the bill through a fundraiser if that’s okay with you.”

  Kenna chuckled, but nodded. Chuck’s blood started to heat, but she kept herself in check.

  “Have a good day,” Chuck said, and walked toward the door.

  Kenna turned off the faucet with her elbow, then maneuvered the hand dryer on with her shoulder. “Good luck with your fundraiser. I hope you’re selling more than just your cookies.” She gave Chuck a once-over that sent a shiver down Chuck’s spine as she left the room.

  “Ugh,” Chuck said aloud as she walked down the hallway.

  “Bad experience?” a voice asked, and Chuck nearly jumped out of her skin. Chuck recovered quickly, then held out a hand for Stella to shake. Stella took it with a strange look, then glanced at Chuck’s feet. “Did I forget to take off my shoes at the door?”

  Chuck looked down and realized she was in her oldest, most stain- an
d hole-filled pair of socks. Her face burned with embarrassment. “No, I was just... I got my shoes dirty cleaning out back, and didn’t want to track anything in.” She looked at her sock feet and cleared her throat. “What brings you here?”

  Stella tutted. “You’re clean and a hard worker, but you do not have a great memory, do you?”

  Chuck gave her a blank look.

  “We agreed last night to start planning the fundraiser today.” She held up a plastic file folder stuffed full of papers. “I already started compiling some ideas, and I wanted your input before I really put anything together.”

  Chuck was stunned. She remembered talking about the fundraiser, but they hadn’t set a date... had they?

  Stella grinned. “Did you not want to talk about it today?”

  “No!” Chuck said, then closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself. “I mean, yes, I would like to talk about it today.” She opened her eyes and gave Stella a downturned smile. “I just didn’t realize...”

  “What you mean to say is I’m a little too eager, right?” Stella said, still smiling, but pulling her file folder toward her chest.

  Chuck reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. “No. What I meant was that I must have forgotten we discussed it because of the wine.” And because I was too busy staring at you. God, you’re beautiful, she didn’t say.

  Stella’s smile turned up at the corners. “Do you have an office we can go to?”

  “I, oh, um...”

  Stella laughed. “Or a clear spot on the floor somewhere we can sit?”

  Chuck rubbed a hand over the back of her neck; it burned as hot as her face. She was opening her mouth to speak when she heard the familiar sound of a throat clearing from a few doors down. She and Stella both turned to see Brenda walking toward them.

  “What’s up?” Chuck asked, then turned to Stella. “You remember my sister, Brenda?”

  Stella stepped forward and held out a hand. “Of course. The miracle vet who is going to save our Stanley’s life. It’s a pleasure to see you again, Dr. Billard.”

  Brenda shook her hand. “I’m going to try to save him,” she corrected. “There is still a chance he won’t make it through the first surgery, let alone any follow-up treatments he might need.”

 

‹ Prev