“Well, maybe you can. Just remember, though, that’s when Derek met you-know-who. He’s still a little sore on the subject.” Maggie had to take a few deep breaths to get back her wind.
“Sore on what? The festival or what’s her name? Jessica?” CJ was trying to be laid-back about her query.
“Jennifreak,” Maggie mocked. “I’d use the other word, but I try not to curse. I used to have such a potty mouth, but with the kids, well, you gotta be careful.”
CJ chuckled. “I get your drift.”
“Yeah, but anyway, last year Derek decided the best antidote to melancholy was to be proactive, so they decided to join in the festivities. Did him a lot of good. I could just punch her in the face. But you’re right. He’s better off without her, and besides, I wouldn’t want that spoiled brat as a sister-in-law. It would turn the holidays into horror-days!” She laughed out loud at her own joke.
CJ laughed too. “He seems to be adjusting well. I mean, you wouldn’t know he was a guy who had his heart smashed up. He’s pretty upbeat.”
“That’s Derek. Always the rock, and with a smile. I once painted one with a big grin and gave it to him. I told him he could throw it at something if he wanted to get rid of his frustrations!”
“He doesn’t seem the type to throw things, either.” CJ was trying to learn anything she could about the man she found so fascinating and was immensely attracted to, but she was trying to be circumspect in the questions she asked.
“Derek? Oh, don’t get him mad. I mean, it takes a lot to do that, but he can throw a good punch if he has to. Once in a while, some of their customers would get blotto, and he’d have to manhandle them. He’s never started a fight—as far as I can remember—but if he needs to defend himself or someone else, I’d sure want to be on his side, not the other guy’s!”
“I’ll certainly keep that in mind.” CJ told herself to remember that little nugget. “Listen, Maggie, I meant what I said earlier. I really appreciate the kindness everyone has shown me. It’s not easy when you’re alone.”
“Sure thing! You’re a pretty good sport. All that vomiting, and you hung in there!”
“I’d say Derek is the good sport here!” CJ uncharacteristically put her arm around Maggie’s shoulder and gave her a quick hug. She drew back suddenly, realizing that this, too, was not usual for her, to make displays of affection. It occurred to her that she might be going through a midlife crisis even though she was well short of forty. Maybe it’s just a life-life crisis, she thought to herself. At least it was a beautiful place to have a meltdown, if one was on the agenda. In retrospect, she considered the possibility that she was over the limit for lifetime meltdowns even though she couldn’t recall ever having had one. A real one. The kind where you can’t even get out of bed.
“Carolyn? Carolyn? Earth to Carolyn!” Maggie was breaking CJ’s trance with her new, almost forgotten name.
“Oh, sorry. Just thinking about my family. Or lack thereof. You guys are lucky to have each other.” CJ regained her composure and picked up a yellow pad and started jotting down gibberish to make it look like she was busy.
“Yes we are. And for real, if you’re still here for the holidays you’re most welcome to join us! Gotta run. We’ll probably see you at the fireworks! Ta!”
When Maggie spun around like a whirling dervish and waltzed out the door, CJ leaned against the wall and contemplated her very cloudy future. Taking a deep breath, she decided not to think too hard. “Be Zen,” she whispered out loud to herself. “Just think about the next few days and your date.” A shiver went up her arms as she visualized the upcoming fireworks. Maybe there would be other fireworks after the fireworks. With that thought, another wave of goose bumps crawled up her arms.
Chapter 24
CJ realized she needed to do something physical, not just for the sake of keeping her size ten figure but also to clear her head and think about the future. Even though she’d promised herself she wouldn’t dwell on it, she still needed to come up with some kind of plan.
She dialed Donna’s number from the apartment’s landline. “Hey, Donna! I think I want to start running. Can you recommend a path for me?”
“Sure. If you promise you’ll come back!” Donna laughed lightly into the phone.
“Again with the jokes. You guys should do a TV show.” CJ was teasing as well.
“There’s the Boothbay Harbor route, a short distance as the crow flies, and mostly away from the water. Very scenic, not too difficult. Should take you a little over a half hour. How does that sound?”
“Right up my alley. Is it marked?”
“Should be easy enough for you. There’s a map in the kitchen cabinet next to the fridge. Take Townsend to Pear to Union. You’ll know where you are. Hard to get lost.”
“Sounds good. I’ll take the phone just in case. Thanks!”
“Hey, CJ, you will call me Thursday with the details, right?” Donna said with a conspiratorial tone to her voice.
“Of course I will! Wish me luck. I’m going to Mona’s this afternoon to buy another outfit. A girl can’t be caught wearing the same thing too soon!” CJ was pleased with herself and her new attitude.
“You’re absolutely right! Enjoy the run, the shopping, and the fireworks . . . all of them!” It was as if Donna had read her mind from the day before.
“Ha!” CJ tried to sound like she was protesting, but she knew she couldn’t fool her newfound friend. “Okay. Gotta run! For real! See you Saturday! And yes, I will call you Thursday!”
CJ pulled out the local tourist map to get her bearings. The route was easy enough to remember, and only a short distance near the water. She slipped her hair into a short ponytail, pulled on a pair of shorts, a local T-shirt, and a cap. Fitbit. Check. Secret cell phone. Check.
It had occurred to her that she hadn’t gone for a run since her close call with the motorcycle, over a month ago. Even though she never found out who the jerk was, she figured Leonard Franklin must have had something to do with it even if he wasn’t the one riding the bike. At least she didn’t have to worry about him at the moment. Of course, she didn’t know how she was going to react when she finally had to go to court, but she recalled the famous words of Scarlett O’Hara, “I’ll think of it tomorrow.”
As CJ jogged along the path, a sense of freedom washed over her. It was invigorating and calming at the same time. It occurred to her that she really had no obligations, no particular place to be, no one to answer to, and, fortunately, no financial worries. Her eyes welled with tears. It was bittersweet. She fought back her mood by focusing on her surroundings and fantasizing about her upcoming date.
As she was going down Commerce, she noticed what appeared to be a small stroller on the edge of the dock. It looked like something a child would use to push a doll. She squinted toward the carriage and noticed it was moving precariously toward the edge. She still couldn’t quite make out what was in the stroller and ran faster toward the dock. As she drew near, she realized it was a little dog dressed in doll clothes. It was squirming to get out, which was making the buggy move.
For a moment, it seemed as if, when the stroller with the dog tumbled into the water, it did so in slow motion. CJ frantically waved her arms, yelling and pointing, but to no avail. No one could hear her yelling over the din of loud music and voices. Without thinking of her feelings about water, she made a beeline toward the water, dove in, and swam feverishly toward the struggling pup. When she had finally reached the sinking pooch, a busboy from the Dockside Grill noticed her wrestling with the stroller and trying to free the little West Highland White Terrier mix. He immediately disposed of the empty beer glasses, reached over the railing, pulled the big, round, orange life buoy off its hooks, and tossed it in her direction. Gasping for air, she pulled the dog under her arm and half paddled toward the big, round tube attached to a rope. By then, dozens of onlookers were clamoring to help, and the two were pulled to safety to a large round of applause and cheers. Both the dog and CJ w
ere trembling—CJ from fright, and the dog trying hard to shake off the ridiculous-looking wet clothes.
Lots of voices were coming at her. “Are you okay? What happened? Is that your dog?” CJ thought she was going to faint. “Somebody grab her a towel!”
“I’m . . . I’m . . . okay. No, not my dog. Don’t know whose.” She was stammering. “Saw him go over.”
“Wow, lady. You’re some kind of hero,” the pimply-faced busboy chimed in.
CJ scanned the faces in the crowd. “Whose dog is it?” No one answered. No one came forward. She clenched the dog closer and raised her voice. “Who is the owner of this dog?” Still nothing except a huge sign of appreciation from the little mutt as she licked CJ’s face.
The acne-prone kid broke in again with, “Looks like he’s yours now!”
The commotion continued as people pulled out their phones and started snapping photos of the heroic rescuer and the dog when she realized she needed to cover her face. She buried her nose in the dog’s neck and moved through the crowd as quickly as possible. Someone offered her a chair and a beer, but she politely declined. She knew she had to get out of there pronto.
She held the dog in a manner that would shield her from further photos as she rummaged through her pocket, hoping the phone would still be there and in working order. She managed to dial Donna’s number as she worked her way out to the street.
After two rings, Donna answered. “Don’t tell me you’re lost!”
“No. Worse. I think I’m now the local hero.” CJ’s voice was quivering.
“What are you talking about? Are you okay?” Donna could sense CJ’s panic.
“I think you need to come up here. I rescued a dog from drowning, and people began taking pictures. I’m a wreck.” CJ was trying to sound calm, but it wasn’t working. “I have this dog in my arms, and no one seems to know who the owners are. I don’t know what to do.”
“Okay. I’ll leave in a few minutes. Go back to the apartment and take the dog with you. We’ll sort it out.”
CJ wrapped the dog in the towel someone had handed her and walked briskly home. Another crisis had entered her life.
When she got back to the triplex, CJ peeled off her clothes and ran a shower. As she waited for the water to warm, she also peeled the clothes off the dog. “Who on earth would have dressed you like this? And left you?” The dog began to lick her face again. “You’re such a sweet little thing. I don’t get it.” CJ did her best to wipe the dog down. “And who dressed you in this stupid pirate outfit?” The dog gave a few quick sharp barks as if to say, “The same idiot who left me alone on the dock!”
“You really are cute.” CJ shook her head in bewilderment. “What am I supposed to do with you now? Maybe your owners will come forward if someone posts that photo, which would be good for you but very bad for me.” She gave the dog a hug, took a big sigh, and stepped into the shower. “Just when I thought I’d have some kind of normalcy in my not-so-normal life.”
A little over an hour later, Donna knocked on the door. CJ had already poured herself a glass of wine and handed a second glass to Donna before she was inside the door. “You’re gonna need this.”
“What the hell happened?” Donna took the wine and swallowed half of it.
“Easy on that. It’s one of the good bottles.” CJ was trying to stay calm.
“I’ll buy you another one. Now, tell me everything.”
CJ recalled the event as Donna’s eyes widened with every sentence. “So now there are photos of me with this wet dog. I tried to hide my face, but I don’t know how recognizable I am.”
“Son of a bitch.” Donna emptied her glass and handed it to CJ for a refill. “What were you wearing?”
“A local T-shirt, shorts, and a baseball cap that had a butterfly on the brim.”
“Okay. All nondescript. We’ll be sure to toss those clothes.”
“Does this mean I’ll have to move? Again?” CJ was forlorn and close to panic. “I don’t think I can handle any more upheaval.”
“I’ll check social media and see if anyone posts anything, which I am sure someone will. It will be a matter of how much exposure you get. Did you give anyone your name?” Donna was sounding like a US marshal.
“No. When no one came forward to claim the dog, I wrapped it in a towel, used her, it, to block my face, and made a beeline out of there.”
“I’ll also check the local papers to see if there’s any coverage. I wonder whom the dog belongs to,” Donna said almost absentmindedly. “Although Boothbay Harbor gets an influx of abandoned pets every season. It’s horrible. They bring their animals with them on vacation and leave them here. People really suck sometimes.”
The dog hopped on the sofa and snuggled next to CJ. “Looks like you’ve got a new friend.” Donna reached over to stroke the damp bundle of fur. “If someone puts an ad in the paper, or notifies the authorities about a missing dog, I’ll handle it. I think we have to give it a few days and the old ‘wait and see.’ Meanwhile, we had better get some chow for this mutt.”
Donna grabbed her purse and keys and headed out the door. “I’ll be back in a few. You try to relax, and I’ll grab another bottle of wine. Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out.”
CJ threw herself against the back of the sofa as her new friend climbed onto her lap. She looked the dog straight in the eye, and said in an earnest manner, “I hope you didn’t ruin my date for tomorrow night.” The little dog let out a slight whimper and nudged CJ’s hand.
Half an hour later, Donna returned with some Blue Buffalo kibble and a bottle of Flowers Sonoma Coast Pinot Noir. As she uncorked the bottle, she turned to CJ, and said, “I called one of my colleagues, and he advised that you lay low for the next few days. Call in sick to work.”
“Lay low? As in cancel my date for tomorrow night?” CJ was bordering on hysteria.
“Oh man. I forgot about that. I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“What if I get my hair done tomorrow? Make it blond-blond? It was in a ponytail, so I can wear it down. ” CJ was almost pleading.
“Well, you will be wearing dry clothes I assume.” Donna was trying to keep CJ’s spirits up but wasn’t sure how things would work out if social media got ahold of the event.
“Oh please, Donna. My life has sucked for a very long time. I was just starting to feel like a human being. Please give me this one night. If I have to leave, I promise that I’ll have my nervous breakdown afterward, not before. But after the past decade plus, and today, one more lovely evening to remember would be nice.”
Donna looked at the dog, then at CJ. She wasn’t sure who was begging the most.
“Fine. Just don’t let Derek see that dog.” With that decided, they clinked glasses and enjoyed the rest of the wine.
Chapter 25
Even though Derek Wellington had abandoned his political aspirations, he still took a very strong interest in the goings-on in government—locally, nationally, and internationally. He thought that perhaps one day he would decide to run for office at the state level, but that would only happen when he could afford to walk away from the family business because it was thriving and would continue to without him.
His morning routine included a short workout on his Bowflex Trainer, a shower, and a cup of New England fresh brew and the newspapers at the Java Stop. He’d bring his daily collection back to his place and scroll through the online papers as he drank his grande cup of coffee; then he would flip through the print editions.
As he picked up the Boothbay Register, he let out a loud “What the hell?” when he saw a photo of what looked like Carolyn clutching a wet dog. Her face was slightly obscured by the soaked mutt, but he swore he recognized the one big, round eye that was visible. He squinted at the headline: MYSTERY WOMAN SAVES MYSTERY FANCY POOCH.
A brief paragraph followed:
Tuesday afternoon, during a beer-tasting party at the Dockside Grill, a woman was pulled from the basin clutching a dog. Apparently the pooch was
in a toy stroller on the deck and accidentally rolled into the water. The unidentified woman had been jogging when she saw the animal tumble into the cove and swam to its rescue. A fast-thinking busboy threw the restaurant’s orange life buoy over the railing and pulled both to safety. The woman remains unidentified, and the owner of the dog also remains unknown.
Derek squinted again, trying to make out the woman’s facial features.
A few blocks away, CJ was making her morning coffee and speaking to the dog as if she were having a normal conversation with another person. “I hope I don’t get attached to you because the way my life is going, I’ll fall in love, and someone will claim you. Then I’ll have another wonderful date with a really nice guy, and I’ll have to move away. See what I mean? I try really hard not to think negative thoughts, but my life is just one horror show after another.” Throughout her monologue, the dog sat at attention, eyes on her, tail wagging. “And stop being so damn cute!” As if on cue, the dog lifted his paw to shake hands. “Nice to meet you, but I don’t even know your name. I’m CJ, but they call me Carolyn now. Long story. I’ll spare you the details.” CJ checked her watch. The salon Donna had recommended would be open by now, so she dialed, hoping to get an appointment as soon as possible.
“Bay Cut and Curl. Can I help you?” said the woman who answered with a New England accent.
“Hi, yes. I am in desperate need of a touch-up. Would it be possible to squeeze me in today?” CJ sounded half desperate and half beseeching.
“Well, if you can get here in fifteen minutes, I think we can get it done. How long is your hair and what do you need?” The woman already sounded weary, and it wasn’t quite ten o’clock.
“Hair is to my collarbone. It’s currently an ombré, from medium brown to medium blond. I’d like to go all blond. Do you think you can accommodate me?” CJ had her fingers on both hands crossed.
Deep Harbor Page 25