Wednesday Walks & Wags

by Melissa Storm

  “I’m not hiding. I’m right here.”

  “Are you?”

  Bridget groaned. “You’re really annoying. You know that?”

  “I love you. I’m worried about you. We all are.” Nichole’s tired eyes widened, as if inviting Bridget to look into her soul and to see the sincerity of her words written there.

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “It’s not weakness to let those who love you help. Please, please, Bridget, tell me how I can help.”

  “I just need time.” Time her mother never had. That’s what it always came back to, wasn’t it?

  Nichole cocked her head to the side. “Is that all?”

  Bridget shrugged. “I think so.”

  “Okay, but I’m coming again at this same time next week. And every week after, until you’ll talk to me about how you’re feeling or tell me how I can help. I’m not giving up on you, and I really hope you don’t plan on giving up on yourself, either.”

  Nichole rose from her chair and pulled Bridget up for a hug, but Bridget couldn’t help feeling suffocated.

  Chapter 14

  For Bridget, Saturdays meant a full day volunteering at the animal shelter. Bridget used to spend much more of her week donating time to her favorite cause, but her new, higher rent required more paid hours at the vet to make ends meet—especially now that she was paying for Brownie’s pain medicine on top of everything else.

  She’d planned and organized an incredible rescue event several months back with the goal of finding every homeless pet a family for Valentine’s Day. She’d given it everything she had and then some. In fact, when two applicants pulled out at the last minute, she’d decided to adopt Baby and Rosco rather than leave them as the two remaining pets in the stark, echoing kennels.

  Despite all the work she’d put into that event—and the hours of work her friends had put in as well—nearly all the cages and kennels were once again filled with stray and abandoned animals.

  It just never stops, she thought as she leashed up several of the smaller dogs for a shared walk. Three of the four had been with them for a few months now, which made Bridget worry they’d have a hard time finding homes going forward. It just wasn’t fair. The volunteers and staffers put in so many thankless hours to match each animal with the perfect person, and almost as soon as an animal was out the door, a new pet in need came to fill its place.

  “Wait up!” May, one of the few full-time staffers, called from behind Bridget just as she was about to slip outside with her pack of minis.

  Bridget tensed but did as asked. May wasn’t her favorite person to deal with, even on her best days. After all, May had been the one to volunteer to host a big adoption event for the shelter cats and then dropped the ball so spectacularly, it took Bridget and all her closest friends to pick up the slack. How she’d been promoted to staff after that, Bridget hadn’t a clue.

  May bent her tall frame to clip a leash onto one of their newer rescues, a German shepherd mix who showed some aggression to smaller dogs—smaller dogs like the four Bridget already had at her side.

  She tried to hide the exasperation in her voice as she urged May to leave the shepherd and take one of the joined pairs of littles off Bridget’s hands. Seriously, how had this woman worked her way up to one of the few highly coveted staff positions? She couldn’t handle even the simplest tasks, yet she made decisions that affected all the people and animals here each and every day.

  Bridget waited impatiently as May returned the shepherd mix to its kennel and then finally accepted two of the dogs Bridget had leashed up earlier.

  “Nice day, isn’t it?” May remarked, glancing up at the fluffy white clouds that dotted the bright sky. And despite the mundane observation, she was right.

  Summer in Alaska made up for its winters. Bridget’s mother had always joked that was how God kept people here when every accumulated inch of snowfall intensified their desire to flee. Still, May definitely wanted something if she’d resorted to small talk as a way of easing into whatever request was forthcoming.

  “Yes, and what can I do for you on this beautiful day?” Bridget asked, forcing a smile. Better just to get it over with. Besides, Bridget didn’t want any trouble at the shelter, especially considering she already had issues to deal with at work and with her friends.

  May shook her head and laughed; her graying hair blew in the gentle breeze. “You always know what I’m going to ask before I even get a single word out.”

  That’s because you’re always asking for something, Bridget mentally answered. On the outside, she nodded cordially and continued to smile.

  May looped the leashes tighter around her hand and cleared her throat. “Anyway, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that we’re getting full up again. It just breaks my heart, seeing all these pets without families.”

  Here it comes…

  “And, well, your Date-a-Rescue was such a smashing success, I wondered if it might be time for another big event so we can clear those cages and make space for more animals who need our help.” Despite being taller and thinner than Bridget, May was dragging behind.

  Bridget gulped as she adjusted her pace to allow the older woman to catch up. “Yeah, that makes sense.” Perhaps if she played dumb, May would get the hint and go to someone else this time—or, God forbid, do the work herself.

  May clasped her hands, yanking the fat Chihuahua and long-haired terrier mix back a bit too abruptly when she did. Her face shone with a telling brightness—clearly, she was about to tell Bridget exactly whom she expected to run the entire thing. “So you’ll take the lead on this one, too?”

  Bridget’s eyelids fluttered as she sucked in a deep breath and tried to consider the situation rationally. The animals did need help, and she was the best person to provide it. Especially if her begging off meant that barely competent May would likely wind up in charge.

  She glanced down at the two Chihuahuas that pranced merrily along the trail before them, eagerly darting from one side of the path to the other to take in as many new smells as possible. They needed this every day, not just whenever a volunteer made time and remembered to walk them. They needed love, a home, family.

  Then again, just last night, Nichole had warned Bridget that she needed to learn to say no sometimes. But how could she look at these sweet, misunderstood dogs and not do everything in her power to give them a better life? How could she say no to any pet in need?

  She couldn’t.

  “I’d be happy to help,” she told May, and meant it.

  It didn’t matter that she didn’t know where the extra time would come from or if she was mentally strong enough for another huge charity event or that she worried she’d end up bringing even more animals into her home if every last one was not adopted by outside families.

  All that mattered was that she was needed and she’d been given another excuse to avoid her pain by staying busy.

  Yes, she would do it.

  But this time, instead of dragging her friends down with her, she would do it all by herself.

  Chapter 15

  The more Bridget thought about it, the firmer her decision not to inform her friends about the massive new task she’d taken on for the shelter. They had all given so much to help her make her deadline on the last one, and she didn’t want them to feel obligated to volunteer again.

  If she told them, they’d definitely jump to her aid whether or not she asked. They were always babying her because she was the youngest of their group by several years. She needed to prove to them that she could manage her life without any training wheels or safety nets.

  So it only made sense for Bridget to handle this on her own.

  That night, she was more than ready to pound the pavement in hopes of shaking loose some of her mounting anxiety. Even though she felt confident in her ability to get things done, she knew she’d have to work long hard hours to fit it all in—and she refused to give anything less than her best effort. A run would clear her mind s
o that she could focus.

  When she entered the courtyard with Baby on one side and Rosco on the other, Wesley looked up from tightening his shoelaces with a kind smile. “How did last night go?” he asked, his strong calves flexing as he finished his task and returned to a full standing position.

  It took Bridget a second to remember that Nichole had been waiting for her when they’d returned; it took her even longer than that to puzzle over his seemingly friendly interest in her life. What a weird week this had been.

  “Oh, Nichole. Yeah, she just wanted to talk.” She did a couple of quick stretches as an excuse not to have to make eye contact.

  But Wesley closed the distance between them and bent to the side so that they could talk face-to-face. “Did it help?”

  “Help with what?” Bridget stretched the other way, and finally Wesley got the hint. She didn’t want him close. His nearness made it much harder to ignore the attraction that seemed to grow with each new day. Why was he getting so up close and personal tonight, anyway?

  “I don’t know.” Wesley’s voice deepened, his words becoming less melodic as if he were pulling something back, hiding it away. “Whatever you needed help with, I guess.”

  She shrugged. “Not really. Not the way running does.”

  Wesley’s smile widened when Bridget finished her stretches and turned his way. “Then let’s go.”

  They jogged in silence for a couple blocks, not yet at their full speed. Their first turn was fast approaching. It led to a long stretch of road that gently sloped upward, adding a bit of extra resistance that helped bring Bridget’s heart rate into the ideal cardio zone. They always turned off before reaching the steepest part of the incline, though.

  “I think we’re ready for a longer route,” Wesley called to Bridget, who was just a couple steps behind him. “Keep straight.”

  So no hill at all today? He guided them off-road into a nature park she hadn’t realized was so near to the apartment complex. Now instead of smooth pavement, they worked their way over uneven dirt trails and under a gorgeous canopy of bright green trees. The road zigged and zagged rather than offering a straight path, which meant Bridget had to focus more intently.

  By the time they finished that night, her muscles burned as they hadn’t since her first few times out, but it had all been worth it for that view. The two of them worked on their cooldown routine side by side as the dogs lolled on the grass.

  “Sometimes when things start to get to easy, it’s time to mix it up. To push yourself harder, because sometimes you surprise yourself by just how much you can handle,” Wesley told her before returning to his apartment with both his dogs in tow.

  Well, that was weird.

  Almost as if he’d been giving her advice about something beyond running. But how could he possibly know the troubles that were plaguing Bridget’s heart these days? She hardly admitted them to herself.

  Even after a few weeks spent running beside him, Wesley was still a mystery to her. He insisted they weren’t friends, yet he paid such close attention to her that she sometimes found herself wondering if he could read her mind. Now he was doling out advice, too?

  Why do that if he had no desire to get to know her outside of their shared hobby, a hobby that would be over as soon as the lengthy cold season hit?

  He wasn’t pushing her the way her friends did, at least not yet. And whenever he said something too personal, he either visibly retreated into himself or turned tail and ran back to the safe solitude of his apartment. The whole thing between them felt crazy, undefined, completely different from all the other parts in her life.

  Perhaps that’s why she kept going back to him night after night.

  Perhaps that’s why she longed to know more about her strange, stoic neighbor. If she gave him time, would he continue to open up to her? And was that even what she wanted?

  She didn’t know, but she looked forward to finding out.

  Yes, even if it was a bad idea. Sometimes the best parts of life started out as the worst ideas. It was all in what you made of it once you’d committed, and Bridget wanted to see this thing with Wesley—whatever it was—through. At the very least it added a bit of mystery to her life, which had begun to feel far too predictable since her mother’s passing.

  Nichole was wrong about her.

  Bridget wasn’t stuck. She was just moving in a different direction than the rest of her friends had chosen, a more scenic one, like tonight’s route with Wesley. It might not have been the straightest shot to their destination, but the interesting new terrain and beautiful foliage lining their path had made it well worth the detour.

  Chapter 16

  Sunday brought the Potluck Club’s weekly meeting. This time Nichole was playing host in her clean, sparse condo; her two cats, Salt and Pepper, remained in the bedroom, staring out at the guests through a slight crack in the doorway. Nichole had rescued them from Bridget’s shelter after she’d fallen in love with cat-sitting Amy’s elderly feline, Belle. Now Hazel was the only one of them who didn’t have any pets, but perhaps she and Keith would correct that after they said their I dos at the end of the summer. Bridget, for her part, couldn’t picture a life without lots and lots of animals in it.

  Bridget wasn’t normally the first of them to arrive, but this week she made sure that she came a little later than usual, hoping to avoid any awkward alone time with Nichole, should she want to have another prying heart-to-heart. Plus she needed time to plan and prepare a dish that was adequately quirky but also super cheap. Pennies would need to be pinched for a while, and that meant no buying fancy cheeses for a fondue spread or bringing sea urchins or some other bizarre food and forcing everyone to give it a try.

  She’d always been the strange and adventurous one in their group, and if that changed now, her friends would only worry more. This felt like a great time to learn a new exotic cuisine, so she settled on North Indian. The biggest expense were the new spices she needed to add to her collection.

  Everything else, though? Blessedly cheap.

  The helpful clerk at the Asian foods store suggested she make aloo matar for her first foray into subcontinent cuisine. This required potatoes, green peas, onions, and tomatoes. And it was pretty easy to make, too, although it took far longer than expected and she might have burned the onions a little. Luckily, that was easily masked with spices and a dollop of plain yogurt. She just hoped her friends would like it.

  “Whoa, that smells . . . flavorful,” Nichole commented when she greeted Bridget at the door.

  “Figured I’d take you all on a little culinary adventure today,” Bridget answered, lifting the lid on her serving dish without missing a beat. “And just for that comment, I expect you to have a double portion.”

  Bridget’s curry joined Nichole’s InstaPot mac and cheese, Amy’s strawberry rhubarb pie, and Hazel’s meatloaf for quite the eclectic spread that week. They all had such different ideas on what constituted a good meal.

  Bridget preferred adventure, while Amy favored sweet comforts. Nichole valued speed and ease above all else, which was why she’d always ordered takeout before she’d found her dream appliance in the InstaPot. Hazel usually stuck to family recipes; they were her way of remembering the good times without lingering on the bad.

  “Shouldn’t there be rice or naan or something?” Hazel asked now as she scooped some peas and potatoes onto her plate.

  Bridget laughed and slapped her forehead. “I forgot to take the rice out of the cooker. Oops.”

  “That’s okay. I’m sure it’s plenty good without,” Amy said peaceably, then stuck a giant spoonful into her mouth. Her bright blue eyes were flooded by a sudden onslaught of tears, and her cheeks and forehead were mottled with red. “Holy mama, that’s hot,” she cried, squealing and fanning herself frantically.

  Everyone laughed as Amy drank a full glass of water followed by an entire glass of skim milk from Nichole’s fridge. During the ruckus, Hazel pushed her serving to the far edge of her plate. Nicho
le, at least, tried a few very small bites before calling it quits.

  Okay, so maybe Bridget added a little too much spice to compensate for the burnt onions, but it wasn’t that bad. Still, she could finish her own portion only by adding half a container of yogurt to counteract the spices.

  “Maybe next week we can skip the culinary adventure,” Amy suggested with a sweet smile, drawing laughter from all around the table. “I think I like my food considerably less adventurous.”

  “You like everything considerably less adventurous,” Bridget reminded her, and all the friends laughed again.

  “So what’s new with everyone this week?” Hazel asked the group. She pushed her plate to the side and grabbed some lotion from her purse. She applied it practically every hour on the hour as part of her pre-wedding skin care regiment. Seemed like overkill to Bridget, but then again she’d never minded a few rough, patchy spots here and there.

  Bridget sent up a silent prayer that Amy and Nichole wouldn’t get their fourth friend involved in their new favorite hobby of worrying over Bridget. Amy and Nichole, she could handle. One showed her concern through baking and the other through private talks. Not Hazel, though. She’d jump in to take action and fix whatever needed fixing.

  The thing was, Bridget wasn’t broken, nor had she ever been. She’d worked very hard to keep herself together, and Hazel’s fiddling would, no doubt, make her carefully maintained composure crumble to dust.

  Bridget sat quietly, not wanting to offer up the news about her new event-planning assignment for the shelter—and especially not in front of fix-it-all-in-a-jiffy Hazel.

  Amy glanced her way and nodded so subtly no one else could have possibly noticed unless they’d been watching for it. “Trent surprised me with an invite to go camping with him and Olivia next weekend. I agreed as long as he promised to get me home in time for my weekly time with my girls.”

  “The first rule of the Sunday Potluck Club is that you better have a darned good excuse for missing meetings,” Bridget recited with a wistful smile. She’d learned this the hard way when she’d chosen to stay in bed to catch up on sleep and Netflix, only to find her three friends at her door with a traveling smorgasbord.