One Hot Summer

by Heidi McLaughlin

  By car, and with no traffic, it was only a ninety-minute ride, but Riley didn’t drive. She knew how to, but had no use for a car in the city, so she opted to take the train. Once she arrived in the Port, she wasn’t quite ready to see Bernard again, or to meet this dog that was so damn important to Jameson. Why would he think I’d want that responsibility? She groaned to herself.

  Now, she was stranded outside the restaurant and needed to get a ride to the house. She looked at the map on her phone to see if it was within walking distance, and it appeared to be just a mere half a mile away. Twenty blocks was about a mile in the city, so she decided walking the half mile would be easy enough, even if she was dragging a suitcase behind her.

  After she’d been walking for around ten minutes, a black SUV pulled up next to her and rolled down its tinted window. Oh God, what now?

  “Need a lift?” the stranger called out.

  Neither stopping nor making eye contact, she shouted, “No thanks. I’m good.”

  The SUV continued to drive at a snail’s pace alongside her, giving her the distinct sense someone needed a proper New York City blow off. What is it with this town?

  “Listen, I’m sorry about my friend. You’re obviously new in town, he didn’t mean to be as creepy as he was.”

  Oh great, the other hot guy from the bar is now following me. This is how you end up on Dateline after they find your body in the woods.

  “And you don’t think following me down the street in your tricked out Escalade is creepy at all?” she snarled back and stared at him through her sunglasses.

  He gave her a half-smile and nodded. “Fair enough. I can assure you I’m not a creep. My name is Donovan. Donovan Hunter.”

  Riley’s patience was nearing its breaking point with these strangers, and introducing himself on the side of the road from his fancy car didn’t make him any less annoying or strange. “Well, Donovan Hunter, I do not need a ride. Thank you for your offer.”

  She turned away and got back to her walk. A quick glance at her phone revealed she was only a block or two away from her destination and while she was getting hot in the sun, she was damned sure not taking a ride from a stranger. She could make it a couple more blocks on pride alone.

  He continued to keep pace with her for another moment before asking again, “Are you sure I can’t give you a lift? That suitcase looks heavy.” His tone was kind and he was right, the suitcase was heavy. Riley had thrown a rather random assortment of clothing and things she thought she might need into it with little thought of how much it would weigh.

  “I’m sure. But thanks again. I’m almost where I need to be.”

  “You’re not gonna tell me where that is, are you?” He laughed, seeming to enjoy the banter they were having on the side of the road.

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Well, I hope to see you again…” He paused, she presumed to imply he wanted her name.

  “Uh, okay, Donovan Hunter. See ya around.” She half-waved, continuing to avoid eye contact as she moved toward her destination.

  He rolled the window up and did a U-turn in the middle of the street, heading in the opposite direction. Riley shook her head and muttered to herself, What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

  Lugging the suitcase along the side of the road turned out to be a bit more arduous than Riley expected and she’d wished she called for a taxi or a rideshare by the time Donovan had offered her a ride. She’d even considered accepting his offer briefly, but thought better of it when her city stranger meter kicked in. It probably would have been perfectly fine, but I’m not here to make friends.

  Finally, she arrived at Jameson’s address. The house was exactly what she had expected. From the exterior, you could see floor-to-ceiling windows and a giant chandelier in the foyer. It was painted a pale blue befitting the landscape, and had stark white shutters. It was pristine but also gave the vibe that it was comfortable inside. As she ventured down the last stretch of driveway, the door flew open and before she knew what hit her, a massive dog jumped up on her and was licking her face.

  “Oh my God!” she cried out as she tumbled to the ground. The dog must have thought she was playing because he stood on top of her, practically crushing her ribs while continuing to bathe her in spit. As she tried to cover her face to make him stop, she heard Bernard’s voice.

  “Scrappy! That’s enough!” he bellowed.

  The dog removed himself from her chest and sat next to her, tail wagging at a record-setting pace while Riley sat up, reeling from the shock.

  “What the hell?” she grumbled.

  “Ms. Maxwell, you’re here,” Bernard said with some surprise. “I wasn’t expecting you. I could have picked you up.”

  Lifting herself off the ground, Riley glared at the dog. “I guess this is my new dog, huh?” she said, brushing the dirt off.

  Bernard laughed. “Why yes, this is Scrappy. He’s very excited to meet you.”

  Well, that makes one of us.

  “Uh huh. Is that what that is?” she replied sarcastically.

  Bernard stepped closer and picked up Riley’s suitcase. “Let me get that for you.”

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “Follow me and we’ll get you settled,” Bernard offered as he took her bag into the house.

  Walking behind him, she glared at the dog again, who appeared to be doing everything in his power to sit still, awaiting permission to move.

  “Scrappy, get in the house,” Bernard addressed the monstrous beast, who hopped up and pranced into the house ahead of them. For such a huge dog, he was light on his feet when he wasn’t toppling you over.

  “Scrappy?” Riley asked, a hint of derision still in her voice.

  Bernard laughed again. “Mr. Prescott had a sense of humor, as you know. And, I mean Scrappy was kinda small as a puppy. Although, he’s still technically a puppy.”

  “You mean to tell me that brute isn’t full-grown?” Riley couldn't believe the dog still had growing to do.

  “No, not yet. He still has about another twenty pounds or so he’ll probably put on. His energy level is all puppy though.” Bernard placed Riley’s suitcase at the bottom of a beautiful staircase that spiraled halfway to the second floor before straightening out alongside the wall the rest of the way up. “Your room is upstairs, but I thought you might want some refreshment?”

  “That would be great,” Riley replied haphazardly as she gazed about the parts of the house she could see. As she’d expected from the outside, the inside was gorgeous. She could see couches across the back end of the house where more floor-to-ceiling glass looked out over the water.

  “Why don’t you have a seat out on the back porch and I’ll grab us a drink. I’m sure you have a lot of questions you’d like answered.” He waved his hand toward the area she’d been peering at from afar. “I would have made arrangements to come and get you,” he said again.

  “That’s okay, Bernard. I needed to spend a little time, walking and acclimating.”

  “Understood.” He walked off to the right where the kitchen seemed to be, and Riley followed him until she reached the back door, which was almost entirely glass.

  Scrappy had settled himself onto a large dog bed until she opened the back door, at which point he trotted over to her. “Oh, you want to go outside too?”

  Before she let him follow her, she looked out to the deck to see if it was safe. Beautiful teak lounge chairs were placed around the area in what created little seating areas for small groups of people to congregate. She spotted a dog bed next to one of the chaise lounges, indicating to her that Scrappy could join her outside.

  “Don’t run away or jump on me again, got it?” she said to him before letting him lead the way to his favorite spot, which turned out to be the chaise lounge next to the dog bed, not the dog bed itself. “Whatever, just be chill.” Riley rolled her eyes at the dog, who had stretched himself out, so much so that his back and front paws were both hanging off the edges. He let out a very l
oud sigh and stared at her.

  “Dude, I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t know what I’m doing here,” she explained to him.

  “Well, this is your home,” Bernard interrupted her conversation with Scrappy, setting down two lemonades and a bottle of vodka on the matching table between them. “If you want it to be.” He handed her a glass. “I thought you might want a real drink after the long trip, and what with the craziness of the day I assume you have had.”

  “You assume correctly, Bernard.” She smiled as she replied before taking a long sip of the cool lemonade. No need to mention the shots of tequila I had before.

  Bernard settled himself in the chair across from her and glanced over at the dog. “Damn dog loves to lay on the furniture. Thinks he’s a human.”

  “So, about this dog…” Riley decided to use that as her segway to not keeping the dog.

  “He’s a good dog, but he’s huge. And clumsy.” Bernard chuckled. “Mr. Prescott put all the glass away when Scrappy here was a puppy because that tail of his kept knocking everything onto the floor.”

  “Why did Jameson leave me a dog? He knows—knew—that I lived in the city. How the hell would I be able to take this guy into an apartment?” She cut right to the chase.

  “Mr. Prescott hoped that you would spend the summer here at the shore.”

  “Did you know that he was dying?” Riley asked bluntly.

  “I knew that he was very sick. But he was doing everything in his power to get well. Unfortunately, it was just simply his time.”

  “So you knew what was in the letter he gave me?” she asked.

  “I did not. That was a personal letter, for you.”

  “Why did he leave everything to me and not you? He only knew me for like, eighteen months, tops.”

  “Mr. Prescott has taken care of me, and ensured that I want for nothing. But the house, and the assets, they were for you. I have all that I need. I will live here as long as you want me to, and I’ll continue my duties here so long as you see fit. Should you decide you no longer wish to have my services, I will move on.”

  He seemed cold and distant in his reply, and Riley didn’t mean to upset or hurt Bernard’s feelings. She knew she needed to tone her city style down a bit, and be the Riley who was friends with Jameson. “You will stay as long as you want to, Bernard. But you don’t have to wait on me. I can take care of myself.”

  Bernard grinned and lifted his glass of lemonade to toast. “Welcome to Port Henry, Riley.”

  She clinked his glass with hers, and leaned back in the comfy chair, taking in the evening breeze. Maybe a vacation would do me some good. What better way to figure out what’s next than in a mansion you’ve just inherited?

  7

  Donovan

  She was right, it was totally creeper of me to follow her down the road. Donovan felt like a jackass. At the moment, it seemed like the only way to show her he wasn’t like Gavin. Unsure why he suddenly felt the need to separate who he was as a person from his best friend, he chalked it up to a weird day and headed home. He was ready to spend the rest of the night on the couch.

  He watched some television and played with the dogs but when it was time to go to bed, he couldn’t stop thinking of the stranger dragging her suitcase down the road. Not only was she beautiful, and her features striking, but she was also hilarious. When she told Gavin off, calling him out as a letch, he couldn’t contain his laughter. Nobody had made him laugh that hard as long as he could recall, except maybe Toni.

  Donovan lay in bed, wondering if he’d see her again. She was walking toward the residential side of town, so she had to be on her way to someone’s house. Tapping his temple, he ran through the residents he knew in that area but he wasn’t aware of anyone who would start having summer guests quite that early in the season. Sighing, he gave up to get some sleep. After all, he still had to work in the morning.

  The next day at the office was extraordinarily busy. Matthew Maloni’s turtle wasn’t eating, Mrs. Chadwick’s two chihuahuas needed their teeth cleaned, which required sedation—for her and the dogs—and little Tommy Grimaldi had found a sick baby bird that needed medical attention as it appeared to have fallen from its nest.

  While attempting to bottle feed the baby bird, which looked like a little robin, a large crash came from outside the exam room where he was delicately holding the chick. Thankfully, he had a steady hand and didn’t crush the tiny thing, but the dog barking loudly and the crash meant they had another patient on their hands. Donovan placed the little bird in an incubator, checked to make sure the temperature was set, and made his way to the waiting room.

  He hadn’t gotten halfway down the hall when he was nearly tackled by a giant dog whose leash was swinging behind him. Instantly, he knew who it was. “Scrappy!” he said, taking the dogs giant paws off his shoulders. Donovan was six foot three and Scrappy had no problem at all stretching out to his height to hug him like a human, and he wasn’t even fully grown. “What are you doing here, boy?”

  “I’m so sorry, I tried to hold on, but…” The woman from yesterday rounded the corner, apparently looking for Scrappy. “Oh,” she said when she recognized Donovan.

  “Well, hello there, Miss…?” Donovan grinned, feeling as though he’d won the “now you have to tell me your name” game.

  “Maxwell. Riley Maxwell,” she replied, pursing her lips in defeat. “This is—”

  “This is Scrappy,” Donovan cut her off. “I know who he is, but why do you have him?” Then, it dawned on him. Riley was Jameson Prescott’s beneficiary. Why else would she have Scrappy? While he was still sorting out the connection mentally, Riley interrupted his thoughts.

  “Um, so you’re the vet?” she asked.

  “Oh, yes. I am,” he replied. “Is something wrong with Scrappy?” He glanced down at the dog, who was calmly leaning against his leg, tail wagging.

  “I’m not sure,” she replied.

  Confused, Donovan asked, “What are you doing here?”

  “Well, Scrappy here decided to eat a pair of my shoes. He also ate a tree.”

  “He ate a tree?”

  “A whole fucking tree, outside. I let him out to do his business this morning after he had eaten my shoes, and then, before I knew what was happening, he’d ripped a sapling, I mean, I guess it was bigger than a sapling, he didn’t eat an oak tree or anything, but he ate a small tree and I don’t know a lot about dogs, but I’m pretty sure they’re not supposed to eat shoes and trees.” Riley rambled everything out without taking a breath, and when she finished, she sighed. “So, is he gonna be okay?”

  Trying to hold back a laugh, Donovan pointed to the door across the hall between them. “Take Scrappy in there, and I’ll be in shortly to check him out.” Once Riley was in the exam room with the door shut, he chuckled out loud and swung by Toni’s desk. “Did you get all that?” he asked.

  Toni grinned. “I’m guessing she’s the one who inherited the dog?”

  “Seems so. Did you get the story?”

  “I got enough to know she doesn’t know anything about dogs like Scrappy. She’s got her hands full with that one. Sorry I didn't stop him. My hands were full, and I figured he wouldn’t get far.”

  “No problem. I’m gonna check him out, just to make sure he doesn’t have any obstructions or anything. Can you check on Bartholomew?”

  Toni had a puzzled look on her face, then she realized, “Oh, the turtle. Yep, I’ll go see if he’s eaten yet so he can go home.” The turtle had a fractured leg, but also hadn’t been eating. Once they saw he’d consumed some food, they’d let him go home. She rose from her chair and headed to the back where Bartholomew’s cage was set up while Donovan made his way back to the exam room.

  “Hi there, sorry about that. It’s been a very busy day. So, let’s take a look at Scrappy here.” Donovan ran his hands over and palpated the dog’s abdomen, feeling for anything usual. It was fairly common for a dog of his breed to eat some unusual stuff, and they typically gre
w out of that phase with age and good training. “So, he ate the shoes and the...tree. Did he eat any of his actual food?”

  “Yes, all of it.”

  “Before or after he went outside?” Donovan placed his stethoscope in his ears and listened to Scrappy’s belly, as well as his heart. There were no unusual sounds and Scrappy was acting perfectly normal… well, for Scrappy at least.

  “Is he going to be okay?” Riley asked, her voice trembling a bit.

  Donovan placed his stethoscope around his neck and patted Scrappy on the head, then scratched his ears. “He’s probably going to take an enormous dump this afternoon, but otherwise, he’s just fine. Make sure he drinks a lot of water, and he should skip his normal dinner tonight.”

  Riley sighed deeply. “Thank you so much.”

  “It’s not a problem, Miss Maxwell,” he replied formally.

  “You can call me Riley. And, I’m sorry I was so rude to you yesterday. It’s been a really weird week for me.” Her blue eyes glazed over a bit as if she might cry, melting Donovan’s snarky demeanor.

  “So, you inherited Scrappy here?” Donovan was still petting the dog, who was now leaning into him, encouraging more rubs all over his giant head.

  “I did. And in case you hadn’t noticed, I don’t know a whole lot about dogs.” She half-smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “But, I’m trying. I’ve only had him since yesterday, and he’s kind of a menace, to be honest.”

  Donovan let out a hearty laugh. “Well, Great Danes can be a handful, but they’re also very loyal and loving. Once you get to know each other, he’ll be your best friend.”

  “I’m not sure I’m going to keep him,” she admitted.

  “Why wouldn’t you keep him?” Donovan asked, rather surprised.

  “I live in the city, and I don’t think a city apartment is a very good place for a giant dog, do you?”

  “Aren’t you staying in Jameson’s place now?” he asked.