Wednesday Walks & Wags

by Melissa Storm

  “I’ve got my trusty notebook right here.”

  Amy giggled. “You sound like the Blue’s Clues guy.”

  Nichole stuck out her tongue playfully. “And you sound like you’ve been fully assimilated into mom culture. Isn’t Olivia too old for that show, though?”

  “I watched it when I was little,” she said, shaking her head. “And now they’re doing a reboot.”

  “Yeah, so, anyway . . .” Hazel paused to make sure everyone was paying attention to the task at hand before continuing. “We’ll need event T-shirts, signage, a ribbon for the finish line . . . What else?”

  “Sponsors,” Nichole added, scrawling away furiously on her pad. “And maybe one of those donation thermometers to show how close we are to hitting our goal?”

  Hazel nodded her approval. “Perfect. What’s our goal?”

  Everyone turned back to Bridget again.

  She shrugged. “I have no idea. Last time my goal was to get all the pets adopted. This time . . . Well, how much money should we even expect?”

  “Didn’t the person who volunteered you for this give you any guidance?” Nichole asked, both eyebrows raised.

  “I received exactly zero guidance. She basically ambushed me during my shift and told me to put together another big event like we did for Valentine’s Day and that she wanted it to happen the first weekend of August.”

  Nichole tapped her pen on the edge of her notebook, appearing frustrated. “Who is this person? Is she your boss?”

  “No, but she is a staffer.”

  “I’ve been out of the corporate world for a while,” Hazel said thoughtfully. “But in cases like this one, I think it’s completely warranted to go over her and speak with her boss about all this.”

  “Yes, totally,” Amy and Nichole agreed, bobbing their heads in unison.

  Hazel took Bridget’s phone and began scrolling through the contacts. “Do you have the big boss’s number? Can you call now?”

  Bridget hesitated. “It’s almost nine. I don’t think—”

  “Do you have the number or not?” her friend demanded.

  “Yes, I have it, but for emergencies only. He gave it to me when I was working on the last big event.”

  “I’d say this qualifies as an emergency,” Amy pointed out quietly.

  “You need to call him now,” Nichole said less gently.

  Bridget glanced from one friend to the next. “Shouldn’t I try Peg first? She’s usually the one—”

  “Skip the middle management and go straight to the top,” Hazel said.

  “Fine,” Bridget acquiesced with a sigh.

  “Put it on speaker,” Hazel said right before the head of the board picked up.

  “Hello?” David answered on the other end of the call.

  Bridget’s heart flooded with fear. Would he be upset with her for calling so late? Or for dropping the ball on kicking off the planning?

  She took a deep, steadying breath and dove right in. “Hi, David. This is Bridget. I’m so sorry to bother you, but I have a bit of a problem.”

  “That’s okay. I’m up for another few hours at least. What’s going on?”

  “Well, this event for August, I’m just really struggling to get everything done in time, and—”

  “What event? May’s event?”

  “May’s? Well, she was the one who asked me to put something together and gave me the tight deadline, but . . .” As much as she disliked the older woman, she wouldn’t willingly throw her under the bus.

  “For the first weekend of August, right? May told me everything was already handled and good to go.”

  Nichole couldn’t stop a sarcastic laugh from escaping. “Hardly.”

  “Give me the phone,” Hazel said before yanking it from Bridget’s hands.

  “Hello, David. My name is Hazel, and I’m friends with Bridget. It seems this May person has been intentionally misleading both of you, at least as far as this event is concerned.” She went on to explain everything that had happened just as Bridget had confided in her earlier that night.

  “Wow, I expected better from May,” David said, his voice more sad than angry. “Especially after she did such a good job with the cat portion of our Valentine’s event.”

  “But Bridget did that!” the usually mild-mannered Amy shouted.

  David chuckled. “I should have known, especially given how weak May’s original attempts at putting something together were.... Bridget, are you still there?”

  Hazel handed the phone back. “Yes, David. I’m here.”

  “Do me a favor and report to me directly for the August event. Okay?”

  “Sure, but is there any way we could have a bit more time? I just found out about this a couple days ago, and I don’t even know what our goals are. So not only do I need to plan the event, I also need to figure out how much we’re looking to raise and—”

  “How’s the third weekend instead?” David suggested. “I’ll email you some thoughts I have regarding the benchmarks and budget. Think that extra time and guidance will be enough to see you through?”

  For the first time in days, Bridget finally felt like she could breathe again. “That’s perfect,” she said with a smile before hanging up the phone.

  Chapter 32

  Bridget’s friends stayed well past midnight to help her get a head start on the upcoming charity run. She found their company soothing and familiar, but not quite healing.

  She still needed to work through all that had happened with Wesley and to determine how much of the whole thing had been her fault rather than his. Her friends couldn’t help with this, and she didn’t want to involve them in her pain. Although the basis of their relationship had originally been a shared grief, the hurt Wesley had caused belonged to Bridget—and Bridget only.

  Would she ever find a way to move past it?

  Part of her was desperate to feel like herself again, but another part recognized she hadn’t been herself in a very long time. Even before losing her mother, something insurmountable had changed inside of her. Maybe that was a part of growing up that everyone had to go through, or maybe she’d been trying to force herself into a life that no longer fit and had only just begun to realize it now.

  When a gentle knock sounded on her door at half past six the following evening, she expected to find Nichole, who according to Hazel had been scheduled to keep Bridget company for the night. Instead, she found her dad and Caleb standing side by side; matching grins lit their tanned faces.

  They turned to each other, nodded once, then grabbed Bridget and dragged her into the hall.

  “Hey,” she protested with a nervous laugh. “Why are you kidnapping me from my apartment?”

  “Well, don’t you catch on fast, Bridgey?” her brother said, pulling her toward the stairs while their father followed. Thank goodness she hadn’t changed into her pajamas immediately following work as she’d originally planned.

  Her father brought up the rear as Caleb dragged her down the stairs with surprising strength and an unrelenting grip. “Your friend Nichole came to see us, said you needed some extra support, so here we are.”

  “Yes, here we are, but where are we going?”

  “B—”

  “Don’t tell her, Dad!” Caleb yelled. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

  “Are we going bowling?” she asked with another laugh.

  Caleb turned to scowl at their father over her shoulder. “You’ve just gotta give everything away. Don’t you?”

  “How was your writing conference, Caleb?” Bridget asked as she squeezed into the back seat of her father’s old sedan. Caleb always got to ride shotgun because of his much longer legs, and apparently today wouldn’t be any different.

  “Inspiring,” he said, then sighed happily, the same way he’d always done when talking about his latest artistic pursuit. None of those had stuck, and she doubted this one would, either—whether or not he’d been to a professional conference this time around.

  �
��All righty, then.” She stayed quiet while her father pulled out of his parking space and navigated onto the main road. “Dad, you said Nichole stopped by. What did she say?”

  Caleb twisted in his seat and met Bridget’s eyes with a smirk. “She told us everything, Bridgey. Every last secret.”

  “Oh, hush up, you,” her father scolded. “She told us you were having a hard time lately. She didn’t give us a ton of details but did mention you were under some pressure at the shelter to pull off a big event with very little lead time.”

  Bridget let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, thankful Nichole hadn’t mentioned Wesley to her family. She didn’t know why she wanted to keep the details of her failed friendship from them, only that it didn’t feel right. Nothing felt right when it came to Wesley, not anymore.

  “Bridget, did you hear me?” her father asked, turning slightly in his seat and jerking the car toward the shoulder of the road.

  “Sorry. What?” She shook her head and forced herself to focus on the conversation rather than continuing to follow the erratic path of her private thoughts.

  “I was just kidding about the secrets,” Caleb said as he rolled down the windows. “Maybe some fresh air will wake you back up.”

  Warm air gusted through the car, filling all of Bridget’s senses. She’d always loved tasting the sweet summer sky, feeling it on her cheeks.

  Her brother waited about a minute and then rolled the windows up again. “Go ahead, Dad,” he urged.

  Her father cleared his throat. “Oh, I was just wondering if there was anything we could do to help with your fundraising project for the shelter.” His voice lilted hopefully. “I don’t have much to keep me occupied in the evenings, and if Caleb devoted half the hours to this that he does those silly video games of his, we’ll have the whole thing ready in no time.”

  Bridget laughed hard while her brother rushed to defend his favorite hobby. “That would be nice,” she said, once she could talk again. “Thank you, Dad. And Caleb.”

  “Hey, I didn’t agree to anything,” her brother corrected. “But I’ll help you, if you help me.”

  She groaned, all too familiar with her brother’s sneaky habit of bargaining his way through life. “What do you need?”

  “I need feedback on my manuscript. Dad always says it’s great and offers no helpful feedback whatsoever.”

  “Well, it is great!” their father argued. “I’m proud of you.”

  Caleb rolled his eyes at Bridget in the rearview mirror. “Anyway, I know you won’t hesitate to tear me a new one, which is why you’re the perfect beta reader.”

  Their dad took one hand off the steering wheel and flicked Caleb on the cheek. The car swerved.

  “Ouch!” Caleb cried, raising a hand to hold his face. “What was that for?”

  “We’re here because Bridget is already overwhelmed by everything on her plate. You are not going to add something new before we even have a chance to help her!”

  A giant smile lit her face, warming her from the outside in. She didn’t have to search her thoughts this time. The answer came to her like a flashing neon sign: N-I-C-H-O-L-E.

  “Don’t worry about it, Dad,” she answered with an even wider grin. “I am too busy to help, but I kind of have the perfect person in mind for you, Caleb.”

  Chapter 33

  Bridget stared down at the scuffed red and cream shoes on her feet, wondering if maybe she should incorporate a similar pair into her everyday wardrobe once she could better afford new attire. The dull lighting somehow made the already vivid shoes seem even brighter when compared to her simple jeans and T-shirt ensemble.

  Caleb clapped a hand on her back as they made their way toward the assigned lane. “You know you can always come to me with anything. Don’t you?”

  “Thanks.” She picked up a swirly pink ball and stuck her fingers inside. Even though it was one of the smallest on the rack, it still felt way too heavy.

  Caleb made an impressive show of reaching straight for the biggest ball there. It dwarfed Bridget’s by comparison; they didn’t even look like they belonged to the same sport. “Hey, don’t write me off like that. I know I’m your screwup big brother, but I love you and I’m here for you. Okay?”

  “Okay.” She shot him a smile. Caleb hadn’t often played the role of protector; their other brother, Devon, had always done that for both of them. She liked knowing she could count on Caleb now, though, especially considering he’d so rarely been able to count on himself.

  He met her smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Okay, now let’s go catch up with Dad before he tries to start the game without us.”

  They bowled two games, and Bridget lost spectacularly each time. When they’d finished, her arms ached from the repetitive motion of hurling her small but heavy ball down the lane. Apparently all that running with no strength component to her regular exercise routine had been a mistake. Her lower body had become strong and taut, but her arms were hardly any better than noodles cooked al dente.

  “Shall we do another?” their father asked while cracking the knuckles on each hand. “I think I can beat you this time, Caleb.”

  Caleb chuckled and shook his head. “You haven’t even beaten me a single time. Not tonight. Not ever.”

  “That’s because you always call it quits right as my luck begins to turn around.” He grinned at his son, then tossed a wink Bridget’s way.

  “And that’s your problem right there.” Caleb stood and clapped his father on the back while shaking his head. “Bowling is a game of skill, not luck. Right, Bridgey?”

  “Why are you looking at me? I’m even worse than he is.” She hooked a thumb at her father and burst out laughing at the goofy face he made in response.

  Caleb stretched both arms overhead as if this whole thing bored him. “Tell you what, old man. Let’s put that theory of yours to the test. One more game, one more chance for you to show me what you’re made of.”

  “I’m sitting this one out,” Bridget said with a yawn. “But I’m here as your cheerleader, Dad!”

  As she watched her dad and brother throw themselves headlong into their new match, she couldn’t help but smile to herself. Yes, she’d lost a friend when Wesley had ended up being someone different than he’d led her to believe, but she already had a huge support network in her life. From the members of the Sunday Potluck Club, who showed up week after week and whenever she had a crisis that required their help, to her dad and brothers, whom she didn’t see as often but had loved all her life.

  Yes, she’d lost a major lifeline when they’d buried her mom at the beginning of the year, but that loss had also brought her, Caleb, and their dad closer, given them a fresh chance to get to know each other.

  It wasn’t always easy, but it was definitely worth it.

  By the time the men finished their game, both looked as tired as she felt. Caleb, of course, had won his third of the night.

  “But I was closer this time,” their father insisted even though he’d only closed the wide gap between their scores by two pins.

  “You’re getting a little bit better each time. Three years from now, you’ll have me whooped.”

  Their dad reached up and ruffled his son’s hair. Although Caleb stood at least six inches taller, he looked like a little boy in that moment.

  Bridget’s heart swelled with love for them both. She’d been such a mama’s girl growing up, spending every spare moment she could at her mother’s side. Would she hurt less now if she’d made more time for the men in her life back then, if she hadn’t allowed herself to become so attached to—so dependent on—her mom?

  Perhaps, but she wouldn’t give up a single memory of her mother if she had to do it all over again.

  Although she hadn’t always been the best, most attentive daughter and sister to them, Caleb and her father loved her, and they were here for her now and that meant everything.

  “I guess this concludes this evening’s kidnapping,” Caleb qu
ipped as they piled back into their father’s car.

  “Actually, how about we grab some ice cream first?” she suggested with a coy smile.

  “Now, there’s an idea worth celebrating.” Their father turned around in his seat and gave Bridget an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “I say we celebrate with some extra-large mint chocolate chip cones.”

  Bridget reached forward and gave him a high five. Suddenly she felt as if she’d fallen fifteen years back in time. She was just a little girl and her entire world revolved around her parents, brothers, and whatever collectible had currently captivated the girls in her elementary school. There was no cancer, no Wesley, no Dr. Kate.

  Just love.

  And ice cream.

  Even though she couldn’t go back in time, she could always go back to that feeling by spending time with the family who remained. No matter how different they had become over the years, Dad and Caleb’s past meshed with hers perfectly.

  She was not alone. She never had been.

  Chapter 34

  Over the next few weeks, Bridget settled into a new routine, one that no longer involved Wesley. Even now, it was crazy to her that she’d let him take up such a large part of her days when they hadn’t even known each other that well or that long before everything fell apart.

  Her schedule these days—while still hectic—was much healthier. No more surprises had become her new mantra. She’d proceed in a straight line toward her goals, no detours for random new hobbies and definitely no turnoffs into romance.

  Instead, she now joined her father and brother every Friday night for bowling and had even picked up some small free weights to use while watching her shows. Hazel, Amy, and Nichole all came over regularly to help with the fundraiser and just generally to see how things were going. Even Nichole said that Bridget had made tremendous progress—although on what Bridget wasn’t exactly certain.

  She was no longer running each night but still longingly eyed the courtyard whenever six o’clock rolled around. She no longer saw Wesley and his dogs pass through on their runs and wondered if he’d given up the hobby, too.