On Hummingbird Wings

by Lauraine Snelling

  “True.” Another silence. “I cannot believe this. A week ago she was trying to die and now she’s on a cruise. What happened?”

  “I would like to say it was all my doing, but I think Enzio had more effect on her than I did. I just irritated her by making her eat and drink. And talk at times. Oh, and shower and go to the doctor and…I was doing my best.”

  Adam nodded and gave her a thumbs-up sign.

  “So, what will you do now?”

  “I’ve already told you.”

  “No, I mean, you know about a job or…”

  Gillian heaved a sigh deep enough to curl one’s toes. “My dear sister, I have absolutely no idea. All I was focused on was getting Mother back up and living again. I have two weeks here to take care of Winnie. Perhaps I’ll come up with some ideas in the meantime.”

  “You could come to Sherrilyn’s soccer game on Saturday. Spend the day with us. Jefferson will show off his barbecue skills.” Her voice was tentative, not screeching like a crow like when the conversation had first begun.

  Gillian recognized an olive branch when she heard one. “That would be fun. Let’s plan on it.” She said good-bye and set the phone on the stand.

  Hearing Winnie at the door, she opened it and let the dog back in. She’d never had a dog in all her life. “What am I going to do with you?” she asked, staring down into the dark button eyes.

  “Feeding her before we leave would be a good idea,” Adam’s deep voice suggested.

  “Sounds good.” She picked up the sheet of instructions from the table. “Let’s figure this out.” Winnie sat watching her and trotted along beside her as Gillian pulled a container of dry dog kibble out of the pantry. Enzio had lined up two metal dishes on a rug in front of the stationary panel of the sliding glass door. One bowl held water, so she poured the kibble into the other one. “Okay. And you get a tablespoon of canned food on top of that.”

  Winnie danced with her to the refrigerator, watched while Gillian scooped the canned food onto the dry, and then began eating daintily.

  “Nothing like Thor, that’s for sure.”

  “No, she doesn’t scare me half to bits.”

  “He’s the most gentle and well-mannered dog around.”

  “He’s big enough to frighten an elephant.” Gillian placed the covered can back in the refrigerator and returned the kibble to the pantry. “I don’t know how to take care of a dog.”

  Adam tapped the information paper. “Everything you will need is right here, even to the commands she knows. Winnie, what a name for a dog. You let her out after she eats and then put her in the crate and we leave. Simple as that.”

  “But what if she cries?”

  “She’ll quit. It’s not like we’re going to be gone for three or four hours. Dad is taking care of Thor, you will have taken care of Winnie, and we will go get something to eat before I faint.”

  Gillian rolled her eyes. “Faint from hunger, right.” When Winnie went to stand at the door, she let her out and gave Adam an amazed look.

  “Dogs like routine, some more than others. She really is settling in with you quite nicely.”

  “Enzio says she sleeps right along his thigh when he is sitting in his recliner watching television, and beside him all night. But don’t think I’m ready to share my bed with a dog, no matter how cute and fluffy.”

  She gave Winnie a chew bone in the crate along with a few toys and let Adam lead her out of the house. She paused at the door. No whining, no whimpering, no barking. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  “Can we eat close by? All of a sudden, I am really tired.”

  “Sure. There’s a great burrito place down by the Lucky store, plus an excellent place next door that serves Chinese. One over by Nob Hill has both Chinese and sushi. The Burrito House would be fastest.”

  “That sounds good. How about I treat you this time?”

  “How about that is not a good plan?”

  “Well, it’s not like we’re dating or anything.”

  “Says who?”

  She stared at him. Did he really consider they were dating? The tone of his voice sure indicated as much. “I…” She shrugged. “I just thought you were being helpful to the new girl on the block.” That you treat everyone the way you’ve been treating me. A warm glow started in her middle and spread outward.

  They ordered their dinner and sat at a nondescript table.

  “Ambiance is not on the menu here.” He used his paper napkin to brush crumbs off the sand-colored table. “But if you like burritos, these are a full dinner.”

  When the cook called Adam’s order number, he went up to the tall counter to pick up the food. Gillian noticed a woman watching Adam. He did turn heads. It wasn’t that he was so handsome, not that he was ugly, but he had a presence about him. The sharp posture of his military background added to the sense, but it was his ready smile that cinched the attraction. He radiated concern and goodwill.

  He set the basket in front of her, the burrito as big around as an average mouth and probably seven inches long, all wrapped in thin foil. “Enjoy.”

  “I’ll never eat all of this.”

  “So, you add them to the leftovers in your refrigerator. You won’t have to make lunch all week.” He unwrapped his burrito, splashed some red sauce on it, and took a bite, his eyes closing in delight. “Mmm.”

  Gillian omitted the sauce. She was not one to burn her mouth in order to think the food was good. But the combination of rice, beans, grilled chicken, and who knew what else reminded her that it had been hours since lunch. She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “You sure know how to pick ’em.”

  “Restaurants, you mean?”

  She nodded.

  “I know. I like good food. My mother was a marvelous cook, and she taught her sons how since she had no daughters, so we all like good food. I’m not partial to fancy places, but if the food’s not really good, I don’t go back.”

  “What do you like to cook?”

  “Comfort foods, I make a mean pie, and now that we have a bread machine, I like playing with that, too. I’m afraid we are gadget freaks. My father says it is time to clean out the cupboards again. Did you cook much in New York?”

  Gillian shook her head. “I usually got home too late to fix much. Often stopped by the deli on the corner and bought whatever was the special for the day. Mr. and Mrs. Levy pretty much made sure I ate. She was always trying to fatten me up. I kept yogurt, eggs, cheese, that kind of thing, along with fruit in the fridge. Bagels were my chief breakfast food. No one makes bagels as good as the delis in New York.”

  “You’ll find some good ones in The City. I’ve not researched bagels in our area, but not the grocery stores, that’s for sure.”

  Gillian ate half of her burrito and folded the foil over the open end.

  “I’ll get you a bag.” Adam crumpled up the little piece he had left and took their baskets to the trash containers by the door. When he returned, he guided her to the door, his fingers just touching the middle of her back. She could still feel the spot later when he walked her to the front door of Dorothy’s house.

  “Thank you.”

  “You are most welcome.” He grinned at her. “Do you have a key or do we need to break the window?”

  She held her key up and inserted it into the lock. Immediately she heard Winnie bark.

  “Ah, the big watch dog.” Adam touched her shoulder and stepped back. “Sleep well.”

  “Night.” She’d thought for a moment he was going to kiss her, but now she wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or glad. She shut the door behind her and turned to watch him as he cornered the garage. The barking intensified.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming. You don’t have to announce it to the world.” She let the dog out. After a wagging greeting that earned her a pat, Winnie made for the door, looking over her shoulder to make sure Gillian understood what she wanted.

  “So,” Gillian said, as she opened the door, “who’s in charge here afte
r all?” She thought about her mother and hoped she was having a good time. The question still nagged at her. What had been the key that got her mother on her feet?

  Chapter Twenty-five

  She woke in the morning to the sensation of being watched. Who could be in her room? She’d locked the doors. Easing her eyes open a slit, she saw the source. Winnie sat on the pillow staring down at her. When the dog saw Gillian’s eyes opening, she yipped and ran to the foot of the bed. When Gillian didn’t move any farther, the dog ran back, bounded onto her chest, and whined again.

  “Oh, I get it, you have to go out.”

  At the word out, Winnie leaped from the bed and ran out of the bedroom to be heard at the back door.

  “I’m coming.” Gillian rammed her feet into her slippers and shuffled down the hall. At least she only had to open the door, not go outside. Winnie darted outside, did her business, and scratched at the door. The dog whipped over to her metal dishes, drank from the water, and stared down into the empty dish, then up at Gillian. “You sure do make your wishes clear, your highness.” She followed the routine from the evening before and when the dog was eating happily, staggered back to her bedroom. Seven a.m. There would be no sleeping in from now on, that was for sure. If only she had taken the time last night to set up the coffeemaker. But then she’d not planned on having a dog sleep with her, either. She’d given up the night before, quickly learning who had the upper hand, or paw in this case.

  Donning a light robe over her pajamas, Gillian located the still-in-its-box coffeemaker and carried it back to the kitchen. She’d bought her mother one just like the one she had at her condo, so there was no learning curve. It would be ready by the time she’d finished her shower. From this day forward, she would have coffee from the moment she entered the kitchen, dog or no dog.

  The question that was now her nemesis attacked while she was in the shower. What will I do for the rest of my life? A picture of a certain charming man up the street floated through her mind while she dried off. The picture returned while she brushed her teeth. The dog whined from outside the closed bathroom door. “Can I not even have the bathroom to myself?” But trying to ignore Winnie was like trying to turn off the rain. Gillian opened the door and the dog danced in, a squeaker toy in her mouth. By the time Gillian had her makeup on and was fully dressed, she’d decided that verbal toys had to go. Or at least be confined to the crate for when she was gone and Winnie needed to entertain herself.

  After breakfast, she adjourned the house to work in the yard. The shades of brown in her mother’s glazed pots promised to set off the colors of the newly purchased plants. With the magazine article weighted down by a rock on the table, she got to work. By the time she had the pansies planted in one pot and the decorative cabbage with white alyssum in the other, she found Winnie covered in dirt. The little dog had made an impressive hole for one of her size. What a mess.

  “Okay, little dog, you are going to get tied up so you don’t run out the gate when I take these to the front porch.” She got out the long leash, hooked it on the dog’s collar, and slipped the looped end under the table leg. The dog came with three kinds of leashes; was there a hint there?

  Winnie let her know of her displeasure as Gillian rounded the house on her way to the front door. Setting the two pots on either side of the step, she stood back to view her work. Though the arrangements looked good and did indeed add color, the two taller pots behind them would set them off. Returning to the backyard, she let the dog loose again and tried digging into the tall pots. It might be tomorrow or next week before she could plant them they were so dried out.

  Her phone blipped, letting her know a text message had arrived. She removed her garden gloves and flipped open the phone.

  Having a great time. All is well. Love E. and D.

  “Well, I’ll be.” Gillian glanced down at the dog who was staring up at her. “You have the dirtiest face. You need a bath.” But first, she had two more pots to plant. She found a pronged hand digger on the wall in the shed and stabbed that into the wetter of the two tall pots. Stab, soak, stab, soak. She repeated the process over and over again and it was working.

  This time the phone rang, not just blipped. “You want to bet that is Allie, all excited?” She looked down at Winnie, who just stared up at her.

  “Hello.”

  “You got the text message?”

  “I did. I’m grateful he sent it.”

  Allie sputtered. “I just can’t get over it. Them leaving like that. Did they have separate staterooms?”

  “How should I know?” What difference does it make? I’m not the bedroom police.

  “Well, you at least got to say good-bye.”

  “True and I also got to keep the dog.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Softening the dirt in the two tall pots by the back door so I can plant them, then I am going to get cleaned up and go shopping. After I bathe the dog, who’s been digging in the yard.”

  “Oh, I’ll let you get back to work then. Bye.”

  Gillian glared and snapped the phone back into its holster. What? Was she afraid I was going to insist she come help me? As if insisting anything with her little sister had ever worked.

  Gillian stared out over the dead garden as she watered the plants and set them in the shade. What would it take to bring this yard and garden back to some degree of beauty? Leaving the hose barely dripping into the pots, she decided she’d finish tomorrow. After brushing most of the dirt off Winnie, she let the dog back in the house and set about getting ready to leave with Winnie right at her feet the entire time. “Can’t you find something to do beside try to trip me?”

  Winnie wagged her tail, never taking her eyes off Gillian.

  Once ready for shopping, she took her lunch out to the patio table and let her thoughts take over. So, apart from the yard, what should she do with this month at her disposal? Emulate her boss and take a vacation? The answer sat at her feet staring up at her in a most pathetic way. Of course she could put Winnie in a boarding kennel. But her mother and Enzio had left the house and the dog in trust to her. Besides which, there was no place she really wanted to go. At least not by herself.

  “I don’t know, Winnie, but it seems to me that the best bet for the moment and these next two weeks is to stay right here. What do you think?” The little dog about wriggled herself inside out. Gillian leaned over and picked her up, and for her effort got a clean chin. “I hope my makeup isn’t bad for you, the way you keep ingesting it.” She cuddled the fur ball under her chin and stroked her head and ears. “You sure are an affectionate little thing.” And there was something comforting about having this bundle of fluff around her feet and now on her lap. Maybe there was something to be said for a dog in one’s life after all.

  Purse on shoulder, dog in crate, Gillian headed for the garage. “You be good, Winnie. I’ll be back soon.”

  Sometime later, list in hand, Gillian entered the electronics store and pulled out a shopping cart. She needed more than just one or two things. At least she knew what she wanted in a laptop. Up and down the aisles she chose computer, printer, GPS, and a phone network with three receivers. In addition, she picked up a combination CD and DVD player with decent speakers and a handful of her favorite CDs. Some of the CDs were duplicates of those she owned in New York, but who knew when she’d be going back there. That was another one of those decisions she would need to make after her mother returned. She added some office supplies and headed for the checkout counter. Now she could listen to music and play movies if she wanted to.

  Back in the car, she drove to the bank she’d noticed on her way in and withdrew cash from the ATM. If she stayed here she’d have to find a local branch of her bank or transfer her accounts. The big if. Such a little word to convey so much.

  So many decisions. But how soon did she need to make them? After all, the thought of living with her mother when she returned, while an option, was not what she’d want for her life. She remi
nded herself again that she had only one month and she’d be heading back to New York. Possibly. Probably. But she didn’t like to procrastinate. “Get in and get things done” had always been her motto. But what good had it done? Here she was at forty-five years old with her entire life in chaos. Obviously not of her own doing. As if that were any consolation.

  She swung into a Starbucks with a drive-through and ordered a sugar-free vanilla latte venti but with only two shots of espresso. And a chocolate-dipped biscotti. Next she stopped in at a real estate office and asked for a map of Martinez.

  “Are you new to this area?” the woman asked.

  “I’m here visiting my mother.” That was at least part of the truth.

  “If I can help you in any way, let me know.” She handed a business card across the counter. “After all, you might decide you like living here.”

  “Thanks.” Gillian waved the map. “Who knows?”

  Later that afternoon she installed and organized her new computer as Winnie lay beside her on the sofa, dreaming doggy dreams. Gillian smiled at the antics. Waiting on the computer programs to load took far more time than she had realized; she had had IT people doing it for her at Fitch, Fitch, and Folsom. She heard a car door slam, and Winnie leaped to her feet, barking before she even had her eyes open.

  “Come on in,” she called as the big shadow opened the screen door to knock.

  Adam looked down at the white fluff barking at him from right in front of his feet. “Well, she sure decided this was her house quick.”

  “She already rules things here, but I did not take her in the car with me.” Gillian patted the sofa. “Enough, Winnie, come.” The dog growled one more fierce bark, and, glancing over her shoulder, returned to sit by Gillian’s feet, glaring at the newcomer.

  “And she slept in her crate?”

  “Well, not exactly. But she sure settled down when I got under the covers on my side so she could stretch out along my back.”