Kat nodded. “I suppose so.”
“I’m not sure what Rosa is doing to get out. So far, she doesn’t seem to want to go anywhere. She just sits next to you. Maybe she’s lonely. Her owner has only been gone for a few minutes and she probably wonders where she is.”
“Great. The first dog I board has abandonment issues. But she has to be getting out somehow. We’ve got five dogs in the house already; it’s kind of crowded. I really want Rosa to stay out here like a dog that’s being boarded is supposed to.”
Deciding that the tense moment was over, Rosa jumped up from her corner and ran over to Kat to receive some affection. Kat obliged by stroking the dog’s head. She sighed. “Are you lonely, Rosa? Is that it? I guess taking care of you could be more difficult than I thought.”
Rosa wagged and leaned her sleek black body onto Kat’s thigh. Joel wrapped his arm around Kat and pulled her toward him. “At least she likes you.”
Kat snuggled into his arms and looked down at the dog. “Oh Rosa, what are we going to do with you?”
Chapter 2
Odd Nuptials
Jan breathed a sigh of relief as she settled into seat 12F. It had been a long drive to the airport, and she was looking forward to some uninterrupted reading time during the flight. Considering that she was a librarian, she didn’t seem to get much opportunity to read books. Finding, repairing, buying, and filing books, yes. Reading, no.
At the sound of a loud throat clearing, Jan looked up to find a large woman pointing to the seat next to her. “I’m in 12E.”
Jan looked over at the man in 12D, who was disentangling himself from his seatbelt and moving into the aisle to let the woman get by him. He caught her gaze and frowned. Like him, Jan had hoped that the middle seat would remain unoccupied, but no such luck. She smiled in sympathy at Mr. 12D as the older woman rammed her luggage under the seat in front of her and settled her prodigious girth into the small space. Various body parts oozed over Jan’s lap as the woman bent over, attempting to extract something from her suitcase at her feet. Jan cringed inwardly at the violation of personal space and the unspoken rules of air travel.
Having completed her luggage ministrations, the woman turned to Jan and thrust out her hand. “Hi! My name is Ethel and I’m going to visit my granddaughter in San Diego! But I’m a little bit of a nervous flyer.” Her eyes widened and she whispered, “Sometimes it affects my digestion.”
Jan put her book down in her lap. So much for escaping into a good read. Clearly, she wasn’t going to be able to make any headway on her novel. “I’m sure you’ll be okay. It’s not a very long flight.” In the seat pocket, an airsick bag was placed within easy reach.
Ethel tilted her head, causing the ossified bluish curls on her head to shift in an unnatural way. “Why are you going to San Diego?”
Jan sighed a little too loudly. Maybe Ethel wouldn’t notice. “My mother is getting married.”
Ethel straightened in her seat and leaned closer to Jan. “That’s wonderful! I love weddings. Who is the lucky man? What does he do? Are you excited? It’s beautiful to see such an expression of love. Where are they getting married?”
It was apparent that Ethel had not been retrieving breath mints out of her suitcase. Jan replied slowly, “Well, they are getting married on the beach. The man was actually her next-door neighbor many years ago. I knew him when I was growing up.” Jan shrugged. “I don’t know if I’m excited exactly. But it will probably be interesting.”
“Interesting? But weddings are so gorgeous. The flowers! The lovely food! How can you not just adore that?”
Jan twisted in her seat, leaning her back away toward the window. If she were any farther away from Ethel, she’d be outside the plane. Discussing anything related to her mother was never fun. “My mother tends to do things differently, I guess.”
“What do you mean differently? It’s a wedding! There are traditions. People say vows!”
“Well, I think for one thing, there will be a puppet show.”
The woman looked slightly taken aback, but then smiled knowingly. “Oh, is it one of those sex-puppet shows? I’ve never seen that at a wedding. But it could be fun.”
Jan didn’t know what a sex-puppet show was. And she didn’t want to know. She’d seen way too many puppet shows in her lifetime as it was. “No, no, nothing like that. My mother was on local children’s television for a long time. She was the assistant to The Farmer, the kid’s TV show in San Diego. She did the puppet shows with the sock-puppet farm animals.”
“You mother is the Farm Lady? I loved her. My kids loved her. My grandkids love her in the reruns. Oh my goodness me, I can’t believe I’m sitting next to the daughter of the Farm Lady. This is so exciting! Oh and the Farm Lady is getting married? How wonderful for her! Is she finally marrying the Farmer?”
After so many years, Jan was used to people knowing her mother as the Farm Lady with the sock puppets. And it never failed to embarrass her. Years of being teased at school by other kids making every possible form of revolting farm noise was hard to shake. The pig sounds were to the point that she still couldn’t eat bacon. And what people didn’t know was that the wholesome sweet TV persona was nothing like the real woman, Angie Carpenter. Responsible motherly farm matron, she certainly was not. “Maybe you didn’t hear, but Bob Myers, the Farmer, died a few years ago and the show went off the air. The man my mother is marrying is in the plumbing business.”
Ethel narrowed her eyes and gave Jan a knowing look, “Oh, plumbers make a lot of money. He must be a great catch. How did their love blossom? I’m sure there’s a romantic story there.”
“I don’t know how romantic it is. Like I said, we were neighbors a long time ago, but he was on television, too. They met again recently on a retrospective special that featured stars from old TV shows and commercials. If you saw the ads for the Toilet King years ago, that’s him.”
Ethel clapped her hands together, “My heavens! The Farm Lady is marrying the Toilet King! I can’t wait to tell all my friends. Does he still have purple hair and wear the blue jumpsuit? I just loved those commercials with the swirling and all that.”
“I haven’t seen him in a long time. I live in Alpine Grove now.”
“That’s a pretty little town. It’s a lovely place, dear, but I can’t believe you’d want to leave the glamour of show business. You must have had such an exciting childhood, being around all those TV people. Did you actually get to meet the Farmer? What about the Tool Man? Tim Allen is his name, right? I just love that Home Improvement show. He is so funny.”
“No, Home Improvement is not filmed in San Diego. The show is set in a suburb of Detroit, but it’s filmed at a Burbank studio, I believe. My mother only worked on local children’s TV shows. But yes, I did meet Bob Myers, the Farmer.” Jan didn’t volunteer that he was also kind of a jerk. Over time, she had discovered that people didn’t appreciate having their TV idols knocked off their pedestals.
A concerned look crossed Ethel’s face and she looked over at Mr. 12D. “I think I need to use the little girl’s room now. Excuse me!”
Jan closed her eyes. The row of seats moved as Ethel reached up, hauled on the back of 11E in front of her, and levered herself out of her seat. Seeing the woman’s urgency, Mr. 12D quickly hopped out into the aisle to get out of Ethel’s way.
Jan sat up straight and turned to peer down the aisle toward the back of the plane. What had Ethel said to the flight attendant to cause her to hustle toward the galley? Leaning back again, Jan closed her eyes and willed herself not to open them for any reason. Maybe Ethel would be gone long enough for her to feign sleep for the duration of the flight. It was worth a try.
Jan stood at the doorway of her mother’s apartment. The bougainvillea plants were in bloom and magenta flowers cascaded down the stairway toward the unit below. Although the flowers were pretty, the generic apartment was a sharp contrast to the cute, funky bungalow in the little beach community where she and her mother had lived years a
go. This apartment complex seemed sterile and plastic by comparison.
She raised her hand to knock on the door, but before her knuckles hit the wood, the door flew open and her mother stood in the doorway. “Janelle! You’re here!” The tall, lithe woman was wearing a peacock-colored tie-dyed dress and had a ring of flowers in her purplish red hair. She reached out and grabbed Jan by the elbow, pulling her inside. Candles and incense were burning, and the smoke irritated Jan’s lungs. “Hi Mom,” she coughed as she stumbled alongside her mother into the dimly lit room.
“We’re doing a cleansing of my space so I can be ready for what’s next. Do you remember Skye? She’s here to do a reading. I want to be better prepared this time. And Zoe over there is in charge of the smudge sticks, so we don’t burn the place down. We don’t want that to happen again, either.”
Jan nodded her head in acknowledgment. From past events, she knew more firemen than she probably should. “Do you need any help with anything, Mom?”
“Could you take the suitcase? After we finish the reading here, we’ll be ready to head over to the gardens for the ceremony.”
Jan looked over at the suitcase that contained her mother’s collection of sock puppets. She had spent a lot of time hauling that thing around, and she held a special animosity for the contents within. Intellectually, it was stupid to be jealous of a bunch of old socks, but they were more than just laundry, in this case.
“Okay, Mom. I’ll meet you there.” She turned to pick up the suitcase and with her free hand waved toward the other women. “Good luck! Make sure she doesn’t forget anything important.” When Angie had married Nick, she had forgotten the rings, and Jan was enlisted to run over to the local quick mart to get makeshift wedding bands from a gumball machine. Fifteen quarters later, the guy at the counter was starting to give her odd looks, but she finally had two rings and thirteen creepy molded-plastic animals. Yes, arriving the day of the wedding ceremony this time was cutting it close, but experience was a merciless teacher. The less time Jan spent with her mother, the better.
As she walked back down the stairs, Jan heard the sound of kids playing in the pool. Somehow she had managed to miss out on a lot of the fun of living in San Diego. When she was a kid, she never splashed around playing Marco Polo or hung out at the beach like everyone else. Maybe it was because she was too busy. When Mom was at work late taping shows, or out with her latest man, Jan was the one who had to walk to the grocery store or else there wouldn’t be anything for dinner. Somebody had to do it. Between that and her schoolwork, it seemed like she hadn’t had much free time.
She shook her head. Best not to dwell on the past. She should probably be more excited about the wedding. But since the Toilet King was about to become husband number six (or was it seven?), it was getting more difficult to muster up enthusiasm for the whole nuptial process. Given her mother’s attire and the location, the theme of this wedding appeared to be reminiscent of wedding number three, which had sported a bit of a flower-child-hippie vibe.
Maybe Mom had run out of ideas, so it was time to start recycling old ones. Or maybe she just forgot. During the dreadful Richard phase, there was a lot of that kind of generalized distraction. And to make things even more confusing, right before the wedding Richard had changed his name to Wambleesha because it meant white eagle, which he thought was “most excellent.” At the time, Jan had spent quite a bit of time in her room devising her own significantly less majestic definitions for the guy. But since Angie collected divorce papers like some people collect stamps, Richard/Wambleesha didn’t last long.
At the gardens, Jan got out of the car and looked out past the lush tropical vegetation toward the crisp blue coastline of the Pacific Ocean beyond. Even if the wedding was a repeat performance, the gardens were still a beautiful location for the event. She spotted a large white tent across the lawn. Grabbing the suitcase from her rental car, Jan walked past the koi ponds and marveled at the well-tended oasis. It had to be an enormous amount of work to create and maintain such attractive manicured gardens.
In the distance, a small but extremely furry polar-bear-like animal was barreling toward her. Jan mentally chastised herself; polar bears were rarely seen in Southern California. But this one was moving at high speed right toward her. She dropped the suitcase and waved her arms in an attempt to suggest that the animal turn in a different direction, preferably away from her new dress.
As the hairy thing grew closer, it became obvious that it was a dog, not a bear. Its pink tongue was flapping in the wind, and it was smiling widely. Jan corrected herself again. Neither polar bears nor dogs are able to smile.
With a final burst of enthusiasm, the dog launched off the lawn onto Jan, slamming her to the ground and knocking the wind out of her. She squeezed her eyes shut as the dog stood on her chest licking her face and ears with unadulterated joyous abandon.
Jan was less joyful about the tongue bath. She flailed her arms and struggled to remove the whirling mass of white fur from her body. Finally, she was able to roll over and push the dog off, which resulted in the distinctive sound of tearing fabric as an errant claw caught on her dress. Still spinning and wagging, the dog gave her one last slurp before running off.
Jan looked down at the remains of her dress. What had been a pretty floral scoop-neck dress now was a torn and grass-stained wreck that was better suited for the rag bag than a wedding. Somehow even her stockings were shredded. All the time she had taken with her hair and makeup earlier was a total loss. She blew a lock of her curly, reddish-blonde hair out of her mouth. So much for that chignon. Tugging at the front of her dress, she made a feeble attempt to cover various tender body parts with fabric again. It was clear she wasn’t going to be suitable for public viewing any time soon. She yanked at the remains of her hairstyle, pulling out the bobby pins and holding them in her mouth.
Hearing a panting sound above the noise of the ocean, she looked up from the sorry state of her wardrobe to find a man running toward her. He bent over in exhaustion, putting his hands on his knees. With a great exhale of breath, he asked, “Did you see a furry white dog go by here?”
Jan pulled the bobby pins out of her mouth. “Yes. I’m surveying the damage now. And I could have been seriously hurt.”
“Sorry about that. She really likes to run. And she likes people. Sometimes those two things conflict.”
“There’s about to be a wedding here. You shouldn’t have brought a dog. I don’t think they are allowed at the gardens. Didn’t you read the rules?”
“My dad is getting married, so they made an exception. My dog is participating in the wedding. Or she is supposed to be, if I can find her again.”
“Don’t you have a leash?” Jan shook her head. “I hate irresponsible pet owners. I could have been seriously hurt. And if I were afraid of dogs, I would have been terrified as well. In any case, my dress is completely ruined and the wedding starts in an hour.”
The tall man crouched down to look at Jan more closely. His eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, don’t I know you? You’re Janelle, right?”
“I prefer Jan.”
“I’m Michael. Remember? I lived in the house next door to you when we were little. My dad is marrying your mom.”
He did look vaguely familiar, and she’d known he’d have to be here somewhere because of his father. But she had hoped to avoid him. A warm flush rose to her cheeks as Jan mentally connected the well-dressed man in front of her to the obnoxious skinny neighbor kid she’d known years ago.
Now instead of gangly limbs and tousled hair, he had broad shoulders and movie-star good looks. Not quite at the exceptional level of Cary Grant maybe, because of course Cary was the ultimate perfect male, but startling, nonetheless. The warm, amused sparkle in Michael’s brown eyes was definitely exactly the same as it had been when he was a little boy. Jan nodded quickly. “Oh yes. I remember you.”
The last time Jan had seen Michael, she’d been seven or eight years old. And naked. It was laundry day and
she had just put all her clothes in the washer, including the ones she had been wearing. She walked back into her bedroom carrying her laundry basket and encountered ten-year-old Michael sitting on her bed, grinning at her. She’d thrown down the basket and run screaming from the room back to the basement. She had hoped she would never see him again. Fortunately, she and her mom had moved not long afterward, and it hadn’t been too difficult to avoid the creepy kid next door.
Michael smirked and bestowed upon her the exact same sly grin she remembered from years ago, except that one of his front teeth now had a small chip in the corner. At least he wasn’t totally physically perfect. With a discerning leer, he said, “It’s been a while. You’ve filled out.”
Jan looked down at her dress. Most of the top half of her body was still exposed. She yanked a shard of floral fabric across her breast, trying to cover up the pink lacy bra that Michael seemed to be studying intently. “Yes, it has been a while and apparently you are still rude. But not as rude as your dog.”
Michael stood up and offered her his hand. To take it, Jan had to let go of the front of her dress, so the shredded piece of fabric flopped down listlessly to her waist. As she struggled to her feet, she looked up at him and was greeted with the same irritating leering look again.
Snatching her hand away from his, she grabbed her dress. Through clenched teeth, she said, “Thank you. I don’t suppose you happen to have an extra dress handy, do you?”
Michael ran his fingers through his wavy brown hair. “I’m fresh out of dresses. Although I do have my jacket in my car. That might keep you from causing a scandal at the wedding. Could your mom lend you something? I really need to find my dog. I’m sorry she knocked you down, but my dad is going to kill me if my dog isn’t there to do her routine.”
Gripping the front of her dress more tightly, she locked her gaze with his. “That horrible, unruly animal is doing a ‘routine’ in the wedding? You have got to be kidding me.” Why did good-looking men always have such amazing eyelashes? It was unfair. Particularly since at this point her mascara was probably on her chin by now.
Fuzzy Logic Page 2