The Happiness in Between

by Grace Greene

  “Do you need money?”

  Sandra paused, instantly deflated. “Is that a trick question? You know Aunt Barbara left cash.”

  “It’s a simple, civil question. You might consider a reasonable response. You might also ask yourself who you’re really angry with.”

  Sandra pressed her hand to her forehead. Angry? Maybe. Mostly what she was feeling was trapped. Should she tell her mother about Trent? But why? It would open up a new line of argument.

  “Aunt Barbara’s money will cover the vet, and my needs are simple.”

  “Goodnight, then.”

  “Wait, Mom. How’s Dad? Is he settled in? Are—” She almost asked her mother, the woman she’d snapped at, if she was doing OK. Sandra shook her head, this time in dismay at herself.

  “He’s actually doing well, and now that I’m rested from the move, I’m better at anticipating his needs and responding. He’s enjoying himself, mostly. He keeps asking when we’re going home. He can’t remember eating breakfast ten minutes after he’s up from the table, but he remembers home.”

  Sandra nodded. Home. “Do you have a day program for him down there?”

  “Not yet. I don’t want to throw too much at him all at once. It helps having Barbara here.”

  “Then I’m glad. I’d better go.”

  She hung up before something else could trigger her temper.

  The poor steak, having spent extra time in the microwave, no longer appealed to her. Sandra slammed the microwave door on her supper and went back out to the porch, again staring at the empty yard and road. Would he come back?

  The phone rang. Apprehension slammed into her. Her phone didn’t have much going for it, but it had caller ID. She recognized the number as Colton’s.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “You called but didn’t leave a message. Figured I’d call you back.”

  Funny. She felt a little lost as her tension began to melt away. It was something about the warmth in his voice. It started in her chest and spread up and down and all around.

  “Sandra? Are you there?”

  “Yes, of course. I’m glad you called back.” The change in mood was in her voice, and she couldn’t hide it. “I have news, and I didn’t want to leave it in a message.” She paused for effect. “I found Honey.”

  The tear started in the wake of the warmth—the pressure in her cheeks and eyes, the sharp tug of her heart—and it rolled down the side of her face.

  “You did? How is she?” he asked.

  “She’s good,” Sandra said, laughing as she swiped at the moisture on her lashes and cheeks. “She’s staying at the vet’s tonight, but they said she’s recovering well.”

  “Recovering? Wait.” He spoke to someone. Surely Aaron, because there was a cheer in the background. “Can we come over? Aaron wants to hear the story as much as I do.”

  “Are you sure?” She wasn’t accustomed to people asking to come over and share good moments with her. To celebrate. But before Colton could reevaluate, she said, “Of course, come over.”

  “Great. We can light up the fire pit. Be there shortly.”

  She stared at the phone. He’d disconnected and would be here in minutes. She was wearing Aunt Barbara’s sweatpants. She ran upstairs, and as she searched her drawers and closet for something a bit more attractive, a manila envelope came from somewhere and fell onto the floor. She picked it up and tossed it onto the bed. She’d figure out where it belonged later. For now, the clock was ticking.

  She grabbed the yoga pants. Not great, but they’d do with a long T-shirt. Certainly better than the sweatpants. And miraculously, the last twinges of stiff muscles and aching joints left over from the rescue had vanished. She felt like a kid again.

  At the fire pit, Colton arranged some logs and twigs and lit it up. Aaron was in his plaid pajamas, a jacket, and untied sneakers. He was busy, bent over a tray table, opening the bag of marshmallows, the package of chocolate, and the graham-cracker box. They’d even brought wire hangers.

  S’mores. Sandra had heard of them but never tasted one.

  The fire pit flamed as the sun set. Night fell, and the fire pit turned golden. Colton looked up and smiled.

  She was glad of the darkness that hid her blush.

  “Miss Sandra?” Aaron asked. “Do you have an oven mitt?”

  “I do, Aaron. In the drawer next to the stove.”

  “Is Honey really OK?” he asked for perhaps the tenth time since arriving.

  “She is.”

  He nodded and went into the house, returning in a short minute.

  Colton pulled the chairs closer, and Aaron handed her the clothes hanger with the marshmallow on its end.

  “What do I do next? Hold it over the fire?”

  Aaron and Colton exchanged looks.

  “I’ve never done this before.” She waved the wire hanger with its white blob on the end, but carefully so as not to shake it loose. “What happens after it toasts? How do I get it onto the crackers and chocolate?”

  Aaron said, “After it’s roasted and melty, hand the wire to me, and I’ll do the rest.”

  “Got it.” Sandra steadied it over the fire, and Aaron and Colton did the same.

  “Now tell us,” Aaron said.

  “Where was she?” Colton asked.

  A story, she reminded herself, should be entertaining, not necessarily fully and factually complete. Not all players needed to be mentioned.

  “You’ll never guess.”

  A star had popped out above the tree line. Star light, star bright . . .

  “I went for a walk this afternoon,” she began, taking Aaron and Colton through the sudden downpour, seeking shelter in the school, and hearing a bark.

  Meanwhile, she handed the wire to Aaron, and he finessed the hot marshmallows onto each chocolate and cracker set up. He pressed down on the top cracker, and the marshmallow and chocolate lightly squeezed out the sides. No waste of chocolate was allowed.

  Sandra stopped talking to take a bite. She closed her eyes. It was heavenly.

  After licking some crumbs from her finger, she said, “So where did I leave off? Oh, right. I had crawled inside, and as the rain slackened, I heard a noise. A tiny noise.”

  “It was Honey,” Aaron said.

  Sandra nodded. “I was sure it must be, but it was a scary situation.” She watched his eyes grow wider as she described the tight fit, the awkward maneuvering, and the sound of water and mud. “I’d left the phone at the house. You never have it when you need it, right?” She smiled and shrugged. “The sides of the pit were so muddy, Honey couldn’t get out. She must’ve tried over and over. She was very weak when I found her.”

  “If she couldn’t get out, how did you do it?”

  An image of Trent flashed in her mind. And at that point, the story became fiction.

  “There was a, uh”—she cleared her throat and shifted position—“a piece of board down in the bottom. I was able to get leverage by bracing my foot on that board and pushing her up and over. It took a few tries, but we got it done.”

  Aaron’s second marshmallow caught fire. Colton reached forward and used his wire to clear the flaming sugar from Aaron’s. Aaron layered the marshmallow and slabs of chocolate onto the crackers. He handed one to her and one to Colton.

  “How did you get her to the vet’s office?” Aaron asked.

  “By vehicle, of course.” She held the s’more to her nose. The chocolate smelled incredible with the marshmallow.

  “But you were on foot, right?”

  She nodded and finished chewing her bite. “Well, my car was parked here at the house.” She shrugged and let the implication finish the answer. “The vet was great. He took her right away.” Sandra sat back in the chair and finished off the delectable treat.

  “Would you like another?” Aaron asked.

  “I’ve had two already!” Sandra exclaimed.

  “I have a question now,” Colton said. Sandra tensed, fearing he’d found an inconsistency in her
story. “How on earth is it that you’ve never had a s’more?”

  She relaxed and laughed. “Oh, please.”

  “No, truly. How’d that happen?”

  She shrugged. “My mother was very careful about sugar and chocolate and such. We didn’t camp or anything. I never even went away to camp. Where would I have encountered them?”

  Aaron and Colton exchanged those looks again.

  “I’ve never gone fishing or hunting, either, so laugh away.” She waved her hand at them.

  “Where is Honey now?” Aaron asked.

  “The vet said she was suffering from hypothermia. She must’ve been stuck there since the day I arrived. The last few days were chilly and very wet. Hence the mud.”

  “Lots of mud,” Aaron said, “because Sammy kept coming home all muddy.”

  “She was probably checking on Honey,” Colton added.

  “All’s well that ends well, right, Dad?”

  “The vet was concerned she might’ve aspirated some of that mud. They think she’ll be fine, but they wanted to watch her tonight, and I’ll have to watch her closely for a few days. But she should be coming home tomorrow.”

  “Then we have work to do,” Aaron said.

  “We do.” Some omissions mattered to no one but her. In this case, Sandra felt compelled to address them. “We need to scale back, though. With the vet bills, I need to keep the fence project cheap. I appreciate your help, and I hope you understand.”

  “No worries.”

  The conversation was general and inconsequential and a total pleasure. When they left, she walked them to Colton’s truck. Aaron waved and said, “See you tomorrow!”

  Sandra was relaxed and had not one iota of energy left in her, but it was a sweet exhaustion. She changed for bed and brushed her teeth and when she slept, she slept free of dreams. Even Trent didn’t have the power to trouble her rest that night.

  The green truck rolled around the side of the house and parked in the backyard. Colton and a stranger climbed out of the front. Sandra stepped out the back door to greet them.

  Colton waved. He was wearing jeans, a gray T-shirt, and a grin. “This is John,” he said. “He’s here to give me a hand. Hope you don’t mind.”

  John had black hair and a shy smile. He was taller and broader than Colton, but Colton was clearly in charge. The first thing they did was move Aunt Barbara’s small metal table and chairs into the shade of the oak.

  “We’re going to clear out the rest of the old material—the fencing, the bricks, etcetera—before we dig out the dirt; then we’ll put the bricks back in place. And I have a suggestion about that to discuss with you, too.”

  “About the expense . . .”

  “No worries. The cost will be minimal. I have access to building materials that would otherwise go to waste.” He pointed at the truck bed.

  Sandra saw a bale of wire and some fence stakes.

  “Those were left over from a job I did at my own house. They were in the way. I’m happy to get rid of them.”

  She crossed her arms. “I appreciate your kindness, but I meant what I said, and I can’t afford obligations. I don’t know how much the vet will charge, or Honey could take a turn for the worse, so I don’t want to go broke over the fence. Honey must come first.”

  Colton removed his heavy work gloves, tucked them under his arm, and came close. He put his hands on her arms. “Trust me. And if it helps any, this is Aaron’s project. His layouts, measurements, and estimates. This is a great school project for him. So, you see, it really isn’t about you or me but about Aaron and Honey.”

  “Well, we don’t want to be selfish, do we?” She practically choked out the words.

  Colton smiled. “No, ma’am, we do not.”

  She left Colton and John digging out the dirt in the area framed by the bushes and the kitchen door. Aaron was situated in the shade refining the plans. She considered inviting him to go with her to the vet’s office, but he was working hard over the clipboard and papers, and she remembered what Colton said about this being a school project. Sandra reminded Colton the back door was unlocked, everyone should help themselves to lemonade and tea, and that she’d be back shortly.

  As she drove past the schoolhouse, her stomach gave a little flip. Honey. Mud. Trent.

  The drive was uneventful, but her palms were growing damp as the miles fell away and the vet’s office, and Honey, was getting closer. She patted her purse. She had the envelope with Aunt Barbara’s cash stashed inside, the corner peeking out.

  Reassured, she stole a deep breath, in and out quickly, before turning in to the parking lot. She grabbed her purse and went inside.

  “Hi.” It wasn’t Gayle at the desk. “I’m here for Honey.”

  “Of course. Ms. Hurst, right?”

  “How’s she doing?”

  “Very well. The doctor is very pleased. She’s eating and drinking. Here he is now.”

  The vet told her to keep her quiet for a few days, to let her get active at her own pace. If she stopped eating or drinking or showed signs of breathing trouble or distress, Sandra was to call the office immediately.

  “Thanks so much.” Sandra looked back at the receptionist. “I need to take care of the bill.”

  The receptionist took another look at the computer screen. “It’s all taken care of.”

  Taken care of.

  “Who paid it?”

  “Barbara Shoemaker. Your aunt, I believe? She told me you were house- and dog-sitting for her.”

  “Oh.” How much had they told Barbara? Sandra’s face felt hot. Liars never have an easy conscience. But she hadn’t really lied. She’d omitted. It felt like a Trent trap. She looked around really quickly, as if thinking of him might conjure him.

  She felt that downspin begin, that feeling of loss of control. Her chest tightened, and she gripped the edge of the counter, but then there was a bark and a furry body bumped her leg.

  Honey. Sandra knelt beside her. “Hi, Honey girl. Nice to properly meet you. I doubt you remember me from yesterday, do you?” She scratched Honey’s ears because it seemed the thing to do. She didn’t like dogs, right? Despite herself, she put an arm around Honey and hugged her close. Honey licked her cheek, and Sandra felt a response in her heart.

  Sandra rose, and the vet handed her the leash.

  “Remember, call us right away if she worries you. Encourage her to drink, and don’t let her loose. We don’t want to risk her getting into trouble again too soon.”

  “I’ll remember. Thank you.”

  Sandra opened the passenger door, and Honey took it in stages, first climbing onto the floorboard and then up to the seat. She moved like an old lady, but when she looked at Sandra and panted, Sandra was pretty sure Honey was smiling. Impulsively, Sandra leaned forward and put an arm around her neck and hugged her, patting her side.

  “We’re going to do just fine together, Miss Honey. You wait and see.”

  She shut Honey’s door, taking care not to slam it, then got in the car.

  “Down, girl,” she said, stroking Honey’s back and encouraging her to lay down.

  Sandra reached across to pull the seat belt over the dog and fasten it. She didn’t know if that was appropriate or not, and it looked awkward and foolish, but suppose . . . No. No supposes. Pay attention to business, she told herself. Whether you go by Sandra or Cassandra, you don’t have to worry about fitting into anyone else’s circle. You have your own, and, suddenly, it’s pretty darn sweet.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Sandra touched Honey’s side a few times on the way home, and the dog seemed to take that as permission or encouragement and sat up in the seat again. She pressed her nose to the window. Joy and confusion radiated from Honey in alternating waves. Why not? There was bound to be some confusion. Sandra was a stranger.

  Honey, missing, had been a big part of Sandra’s life for the past week, but Honey expected to see Barbara, not a stranger. As the miles went by, the dog drooped a little, and by the time th
ey turned onto the dirt road, Honey was lying down in the seat and panting instead of grinning. Sandra glanced at her, worrying. Secondary problems. One always heard how deadly they could be. Honey looked back at her, and Sandra saw the light in her eyes. They were bright, and maybe there was still a grin on that doggy face. When they turned onto Shoemaker Road, Honey sat up again and barked.

  “Welcome home, Honey.”

  Sammy was the first to reach the car in the driveway, followed closely by Aaron and Colton. Sandra tried to help Honey out of the car, and she was moving, but slowly. Colton stepped forward and lifted her in his arms. She wasn’t a small dog, and she was fully conscious now, yet she seemed content to let him carry her. Sammy trotted faithfully at his heels, stretching to sniff at Honey’s feet as she was carried around to the backyard. Sandra went straight inside the house, dropped off her purse, grabbed Honey’s sleeping pillow, and carried it outside.

  Honey and Sammy were lying in the sun, soaking up the noon rays. The pillow was apparently unnecessary when grass was available. Sandra put the bowl of water near them in the shade cast by the large oak tree. Honey gave Sandra a look and then closed her eyes and dozed. Sammy lay as still as Honey, but her eyes were alert. She was keeping watch. Those times Sammy had shown up here muddy . . . had she been trying to find help for her friend?

  “She looks good, don’t you think?” Aaron asked. He knelt and gave both dogs pats on the head. He rested his hand on her chest and waited. Apparently satisfied, he stepped back and returned to his chair.

  Sandra sat in the chair next to Aaron. His plans were graphed and had lots of notations. Each bush was drawn in; each measurement was precise.

  “Here.” He pointed to the area within the bushes, closest to the back door. “This is where we’ll put the bricks. If we can get a few more, it can be used as a real patio.”

  He pointed the tip of his pencil to an area beyond the bushes but still next to the house. “This will stay grassy but will be within the fence. This is for Honey to do her business. And one thing I was considering . . . how about adding a layer of river rocks in a border about two feet deep along the foundation of the house? It would provide better drainage, I think.”