Unfinished Business

by Inglath Cooper

“Actually, Madeline is the one who saw him.”

  “That so?” Doc asked the young girl.

  She nodded.

  “I expect he couldn’t have hoped for anybody better to come along. You taking him home with you?”

  Madeline looked at Addy. “I don’t know.”

  “We wanted to see if you could check him out. He has a hurt paw for one thing.”

  “Let’s take a look,” Doc said, directing them inside.

  Thirty minutes later, he declared them all set. “Change the dressing on the paw twice a day and apply that ointment I gave you. Other than a few ear mites, he’s good to go. Bring him back in a month or so for the rest of his shots.”

  “Thank you, Doc.”

  “Don’t mention it. I see way too many thrown away animals. I wish they all could be as lucky as this guy. Tell Claire I said hello.”

  “I will.”

  Madeline sat in the back with the puppy once they left the clinic. Addy glanced in the rearview mirror and saw her rubbing its small head with adoration on her face.

  Culley met them when they pulled up in front of the house.

  Addy opened the back door. Madeline slid out, the sleepy puppy in her arms. “Look, Daddy!” she said. “Isn’t he perfect?”

  He touched the puppy’s nose. “Pretty darn cute.” He looked at Addy and smiled. “So the shopping trip turned into a little something extra?”

  “A little,” she said, smiling.

  “Bring him inside.”

  Madeline carried him in. Culley had already arranged a big pillow on the floor with a water bowl. “I’ve got some chicken in the fridge. No bones. That be okay to give him?”

  “Thank you,” Addy said. “That would be great.”

  Culley got the chicken, and they all three sat on the floor, watching, while the puppy made short work of it.

  “So who’s keeping him?” Culley asked.

  Addy looked at Madeline. “That’s up to you two.”

  Madeline kept her gaze on the puppy, rubbing his tummy. He rolled over on his back, stuck his feet in the air.

  Culley put a hand on Madeline’s shoulder. “What do you think, honey?”

  “I can’t keep him,” Madeline said in a low voice.

  “We’ve got plenty of room—”

  Madeline jumped up from the floor, her lower lip trembling. “No,” she said. “I can’t keep him. I just can’t.” She ran from the room and tore up the stairs.

  Addy looked at Culley, her heart in her throat. “I’m sorry.”

  Culley stood. “Let me go talk to her. Can you wait a few minutes?”

  “Sure.”

  He nodded and headed upstairs.

  * * *

  CULLEY KNOCKED AT his daughter’s door, then turned the knob and stepped into the room. She was huddled in a ball on her bed, oversize pink pillows cast aside, a stuffed bunny tucked under her arm.

  He sat on the edge of the mattress and smoothed a hand over her hair. “What is it, baby? What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head, bit her lip.

  “You want the puppy, don’t you?”

  Silence, and then a sober nod.

  “Then why didn’t you take him?”

  A minute or more passed before she sat up against the pillows, her eyes focused on her lap. “Because if I love him, something bad will happen to him.”

  It took a moment for Culley to absorb the words, but when they finally settled, their weight left a crack in his heart. He lifted her hand, clasped it between his own. “Why would you say that, honey?”

  She shook her head again.

  He had asked, but he already knew the answer. It stirred an old and futile anger inside him. “Baby, what happened to your mom wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t.”

  She looked up at him, anguish clear in her eyes, the sharpness of it shocking. He’d let himself believe she’d reached a more peaceful place in accepting what had happened to Liz. He’d been deluding himself. He gathered her up in his arms, held her tight against him. He started to speak, but the words stuck in his throat, and he swallowed hard. “Listen to me, okay? Sometimes grown-ups make choices that end up being a mistake. That’s what your mom did. And you had nothing to do with it. Nothing. Do you understand that?”

  Madeline nodded against his chest, tears soaking through his shirt.

  He sat back, looked down at her. “I love you, sweetie. I’ll be right back, okay?”

  She nodded and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

  Downstairs, he found Addy sitting on the couch with the puppy.

  “Is she all right?” she asked.

  He ran a hand through his hair. “I think she will be. Because of what happened to Liz, she’s convinced herself that something bad will happen to anything she loves.”

  “Oh, Culley. She wanted the puppy then?”

  “Yeah.” He paused. “Come with me.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Very.”

  * * *

  IT WAS ALMOST ten o’clock when Culley walked Addy out to her car.

  “Thank you,” he said, his hands shoved inside the pockets of his jeans.

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “Yes, you did,” he said. “Madeline had a great time today. She looked happier tonight than I’ve seen her in a long time.”

  “We did talk a little. I think she blames herself for the accident. She said she hadn’t been very good that day, and that was why her mom drank.”

  Culley swallowed hard, shook his head.

  “I talked to her about how children aren’t responsible for adults’ decisions. I hope that was okay.”

  “I should have figured that out. That’s what she’s been holding on to all this time.”

  “She’s a wonderful child, Culley.”

  “She is,” he said. “And I think Hershey will be good for her. She needs a buddy.”

  “I’m glad. And I like the name.”

  Culley leaned back against the car then, looped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. “I keep getting hit with this same feeling.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That this is somehow all meant to be. Our place in each other’s lives.”

  She pressed her cheek to his chest, listened to the steady beat of his heart. And thought that’s what he’d given her, a regrounding, a steadiness that made her look at what lay ahead with a new kind of hopefulness. “That’s a nice thought,” she said.

  He tipped her face up and kissed her, a thorough, sweeping kiss that neither of them was eager to end.

  The front porch door slapped open. Madeline called out, “I think Hershey needs to go outside.”

  Addy smiled. “Okay, I’m going,” she said and then, “Good night, Madeline. ’Night, Hershey.”

  “Good night, Addy,” Madeline said.

  Culley leaned close to her ear. “More later?”

  “More later,” she said and smiled.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  ON SATURDAY MORNING, Addy was up with the daylight after a night of fitful sleep. Culley was picking her up at eleven. She was dressed and ready at ten-thirty, after another round of changing outfits. Claire left around ten to do some errands, after which she was going on to the festival to work in one of the food booths for Harper’s Mill Baptist.

  Addy was sitting on the front step when Culley pulled into the driveway. He got out, walked straight over and said, “Could we go inside for just a minute?”

  She blinked, then glanced at the Explorer where Madeline sat in the back seat, a cell phone to her ear.

  “She’s talking to Grandma. I told her we’d be right out.”

  Addy climbed the steps and opened the door. He followed her in. “Is everything all right?” she asked, turning around.

  He stepped forward and pulled her to him, kissing her the way a man kisses a woman he has missed. Addy let that register, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back with the same kind of honesty.

  “You
cannot imagine how much I wanted to do that,” he said.

  “I know how much I wanted you to.”

  “See, we are compatible.”

  Addy looked up at him, smiling. “It would be hard to argue against this part of it.”

  The look in his eyes made Addy feel wanted, needed. He dipped his head and kissed her again.

  “I could really get used to this,” she said.

  “I’m hoping you will.”

  “Okay.” Deep breath. “Madeline is waiting. We’re going to get in trouble if we don’t get out there.”

  “I’m already in trouble,” he said.

  She smiled, took his hand and led him back outside. Madeline had rolled down her window, calling out, “Hi, Addy.”

  “How’s Hershey?”

  “Good. I wanted to bring him, but since he’s so little, we thought he might get too tired. Could I see the deer before we go?”

  “Absolutely,” Addy said. “You won’t believe how she’s grown.”

  They walked to the barn. Addy opened the stall door, and Madeline slipped inside, dropping onto her knees. The deer walked over to sniff her hand.

  “I’ve been giving her apples every evening,” Addy said. “She loves them.”

  “Are you going to keep her forever?” Madeline asked.

  “She’s not really mine,” Addy said. “When she’s ready, I’ll have to let her go.”

  Madeline nodded, rubbing the deer’s head.

  “We’d better go, honey,” Culley said.

  “Okay.” Madeline got up, gave the deer a last lingering look and walked out of the stall.

  * * *

  THE HARPER’S MILL Summer Festival was held every July.

  It was unusual weather for this time of year in Virginia, the air without humidity, the sky a blinding blue. A perfect day, really.

  From Addy’s point of view, it was perfect from all other angles as well. The three of them started at one end of the fairgrounds and worked their way through two dozen rides, a Ferris wheel, a spider wheel, carousel horses, bumper cars. The bumper cars were the best. Addy couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so much. She and Madeline shared a car and bumped Culley so often that he finally faked a problem and then shot off to the other side of the arena when they let up for a moment.

  “So admit it,” Addy teased as they headed to the Ferris wheel for one last ride before lunch. “Women are better drivers.”

  “Women are without mercy,” he said, smiling. “I think there was a little repressed road rage in there somewhere.”

  She laughed. “It’s the D.C. driving.”

  Culley rode the Ferris wheel with Madeline while Addy went in search of Claire and Ida, whom they were meeting for lunch. She found them both at the Harper’s Mill Baptist booth, and they all walked back to meet Culley and Madeline.

  They found a picnic table in the shade, weighed it down with a ridiculous amount of food, filling themselves on fresh-squeezed lemonade and hot dogs, topping it off with a big poof of cotton candy.

  “I wish we got to eat this every day, Daddy,” Madeline said.

  “This will be your sugar quota until Christmas.”

  “Daddy!”

  “Well, Halloween, anyway.”

  “Look, that clown has balloons!” Madeline jumped up from the table. “Could we get one?”

  “He looks like he’s having a slow day, doesn’t he?” He put a hand on Addy’s shoulder, gave it a squeeze. “Be right back.”

  “Take your time,” she said, with a smile.

  The two of them trotted off after the clown. Claire went to the rest room, saying she would be right back, leaving Addy and Ida alone at the table.

  “Madeline had a great time with you yesterday,” Ida said.

  “It was fun. We came home with a bit more than we planned to,” she said, smiling.

  “I heard all about the puppy. Exactly what she needs. I’ve worried about her for a long time. She carried around a lot of guilt that had no place on her little shoulders.”

  “It was a lot to accept,” Addy said softly.

  “Yes, it was.”

  Claire returned to the table, rubbing her eye.

  “Are you all right?” Addy asked.

  “I’ve torn a contact. That’s what I get for trying to be modern.”

  “Do you have your glasses with you?”

  “I have a pair in the car.”

  “I’ll get them for you,” Addy said.

  “I can go, honey.”

  “I don’t mind,” she insisted. “Where are they?”

  “In the glove compartment.” Claire handed her the keys. “I parked over by the side entrance.”

  “Okay. Be right back.”

  * * *

  THE CLOWN WAS a good salesman, and Culley arrived back at the table with a balloon for Addy, Claire and his mom as well. They said Addy had gone to the car to get Claire’s glasses. He asked them to watch Madeline for a while and went after her. As much fun as they’d had, they hadn’t had a minute alone all morning, and he itched to pick up where they’d left off earlier.

  Halfway through the parking lot, he heard a scream. Addy. A knife of adrenaline sliced through him. He took off at a dead run, winding through parked cars until he spotted her. A tall man with a ponytail had her backed against the door of Claire’s car.

  “Hey!” Culley yelled.

  The man looked over his shoulder, jabbed a finger at Addy’s chest, said something Culley couldn’t hear, then took off.

  Culley stopped in front of Addy, a hand on each of her shoulders. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded, obviously shaken.

  “I’m going after him.”

  “Culley, wait—”

  But he was already running, weaving through cars and people who turned to stare. The man reached the edge of the lot, glanced over his shoulder and broke into a sprint. Culley hit the last row of cars and opened up his stride.

  The man headed down the two-lane road that served as the entrance to the fairgrounds, both of them in a dead run. Culley gained on him, and then the guy held his own for a few moments. He looked over his shoulder again, hit an uneven spot of ground and toppled. Culley crashed to a stop and jumped the guy.

  He threw a punch, missing Culley’s jaw by a fraction of an inch. Culley threw one back, connected with bone, his own knuckles screaming.

  The guy howled about his ankle. “I think it’s broken.”

  “Who are you?” Culley shouted, pinning the man’s shoulders to the ground.

  “None of your damn business.”

  Culley punched him again.

  The guy shook his head like a dog getting rid of water after a swim.

  “I’ll ask again. Who are you?”

  “Man, my ankle’s killing me.”

  “Then you’d better tell me fast.”

  “I work for Dudley Contracting.”

  “Raymond Dudley?”

  “One and the same.” This with sarcasm.

  “And what’s his interest in this?”

  “Why don’t you ask him?”

  “I’m asking you.”

  The man glared at him. “He wants the interstate to go through the county. He paid me to persuade the dissenters.”

  “So you’re issuing threats to two women who are trying to hold on to a place they love?”

  He clamped a hand to his jaw. “They might as well give up. They’re not going to win against Dudley and Powers.”

  “Congressman Powers?”

  “That would be the one.”

  Culley got up before giving in to the urge to punch him again.

  “Culley!”

  He turned just as Addy ran up. “I called the sheriff from my cell phone,” she said. “Are you okay?”

  Culley dropped his hands to his knees, sucked in a few breaths. “I’m fine. Are you?”

  “Yes.” She looked at the man who lay groaning on the ground beside them.

  “I don’t think you’ll ha
ve to worry about any more rocks through your window.”

  A siren whistled through the air, and then two brown county cars roared up. The sheriff and two deputies got out.

  Sheriff Ramsey looked at Culley. “What’s going on?”

  Culley threw a glance at the man on the ground. “I believe he’ll tell you everything.”

  * * *

  CLAIRE AND IDA were both shaken to hear what had happened.

  Culley had a call he wanted to make, and while he stood a short distance away talking on his cell phone, Addy gave them what details the sheriff had managed to pry out of the man before hauling him off to the county jail.

  Claire frowned. “Raymond Dudley’s one of Congressman Powers biggest supporters.”

  Culley returned to the table, putting his phone in his pocket. “And Dudley Contracting is the candidate for the hauling work if the interstate goes through Harper’s Mill,” he said.

  “That’s interesting,” Addy said.

  “Yeah, I just called a friend of mine at the paper and suggested he might want to explore the connection.”

  Claire sat down on the picnic table bench, one hand to her chest. “He could have hurt you, Addy.”

  “I think his intent was more to scare me. But it doesn’t matter now. It’s over.”

  Claire hugged her, holding on extratight.

  Culley and Addy salvaged the day for Madeline’s sake, spending the next few hours letting her choose whatever she wanted to do. She ran out of gas around four o’clock, falling asleep in Culley’s arms, her head on his shoulder.

  They traced their steps back to the booth where Claire and Ida were working.

  Madeline revived long enough to lift her head and say, “Do I still get to spend the night with Grandma?”

  “You’re awfully pooped,” Culley said. “Sure you don’t want to go home?”

  “Grandma rented a movie, and she said Hershey could come.”

  “Hard to argue with that.”

  Madeline issued a sleepy nod.

  “Okay, then.”

  “You two go find something to do,” Ida said. “We’ll be fine. Claire, maybe you’d like to join us?”

  “Actually, I have a date tonight.”

  Addy glanced up, surprised.

  “I know,” Claire said, smiling. “Shocking, huh?”

  “Well, no,” Addy said. “Not shocking. Doc Nolen, right?”

  Claire nodded. “He stopped by the booth a while ago and asked if I’d like to go to dinner.”