Holiday Homecoming. Pamela Tracy

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СКАЧАТЬ all these years,” Jimmy said, “I don’t think anyone, at least in our family, knows why you stood Danny up.”

      She gazed at him, eyes hooded, chin jutted out in defiance. Oh, she’d apologized, said she was sorry. Had written Danny a letter explaining that she was too young and scared to get married.

      She’d never acted young and scared. She’d always seemed years more mature than her age. As for scared, she’d pick up a snake before he would.

      For a moment, she waffled, wanting to change the subject. But she was still the stand-up girl he remembered from his youth. She’d never played games like the other girls. She’d always known exactly what she wanted and how to get it.

      “I didn’t love him, not the way you’re supposed to love the man you marry.”

      “But you said yes when he proposed, you set the date, people were actually in the church waiting for the wedding to begin.”

      She looked tired suddenly. Part of him wanted to reach out, move the stray strand of hair away from her eyes, see if it still felt like lightning when he touched her.

      Her cheeks flushed. “When I agreed to marry Danny, I thought maybe love, the happily-ever-after kind, would grow between us, in time. But I had a conversation with someone very wise who made me realize that I was cheating myself and Danny,” she admitted. “It wasn’t fair to him. He deserved more.”

      He’d always wondered if she’d gone from loving him to loving his brother. Now, hearing her say that she’d never loved Danny, he should feel a sense of freedom. Instead, he felt loss.

      She looked at him expectantly, clearly waiting for a reply.

      “I used to believe in happily-ever-after, too,” he admitted.

      “Used to?”

      Before he could answer, someone in the living room called her name. She almost knocked over the kitchen chair in her haste to exit the room.

      He walked to the door and watched as she stood amidst her family, somehow apart from them, as if she believed she didn’t quite belong.

      But then, he didn’t belong here, either. Jimmy made his way out the front door and to his truck. No one tried to stop him.

      * * *

      SUNLIGHT SPLASHED THROUGH the window. Meredith groaned. Really? Christmas was in two weeks. Surely the weather could pretend a chill. She’d slept until almost nine. Unheard of. Back at BAA, she always rolled out of bed at four, knowing she needed to get the animals ready to face the day.

      Today it didn’t matter, though. Grandpa was still asleep. Last night had been a lot of excitement for him. Her, too, but some of the excitement she could have lived without.

      She let him sleep a while longer, busying herself with returning phone messages; walking the property looking for the yesterday’s wolf dog, and finally by making breakfast. It was ten before she finally woke him up.

      “I usually just eat cookies for breakfast,” he confessed.

      She always had a big breakfast. She’d learned her first week at BAA that sometimes there was a chance for lunch but sometimes instead there was a grumpy camel to soothe, a depressed black panther to cheer up, a peacock with a injured wing to repair, or enclosure malfunctions to fix.

      “A decent breakfast will do you good,” she scolded. “How do you feel?”

      “Like I fell off a wagon and then it ran over me.”

      “Perfect, then you’re not numb,” Meredith said, loading a plate for him. “How’s your ankle?”

      “Doesn’t hurt. And where that fool dog nipped me isn’t sore at all. It’s my back that’s sore.”

      “Zack made a two o’clock appointment for you. I figure we can go into town about noon, grab some lunch at the diner, and then head to the doctor to make sure you’re all right.”

      Grandpa winced. “I don’t need to go into town. I’m sore. When you’re eighty-two, you get to be sore. It’s called old age.”

      “If you’re spry enough to chase after a wolf dog and then fight it off with a stick, you don’t get to use old age as an excuse.” She put two plates on the table and then sat down across from him.

      “I didn’t chase after that wolf dog. I heard some noises and...” His voice trailed off and for a moment Meredith wondered if he would continue. Then he added, “I thought...it was Rowdy.”

      “Rowdy’s been dead for—”

      “For more than a decade. I know.” He slowly folded the paper and put it next to his plate, his face looking pinched and stressed.

      “You feel all right, Grandpa?”

      He made a face instead of answering. Before he picked up his fork, he put his gnarled hands together and bowed his head. Meredith did the same, trying to remember the last time she’d prayed before a meal. It had been a while. She usually was too busy filling up the hours and days on her calendar to think about taking a moment to thank God for all she had.

      After the amen, Grandpa took a bite, forced a smile and swallowed before saying, “I still miss that fool dog. I just knew that I’d heard something. By the time I realized how far I’d gone, there the animal was. You’d have gone looking, too, had you been here. And don’t think I don’t know that you were out there early this morning searching.”

      “I got that determination from you.”

      Instead of being pleased, Grandpa scolded, “I don’t want you out there wandering alone. It’s not the same kind of place it was when you were a kid.”

      “I’m fine.”

      “No,” he said. “You need to listen to me—take care.”

      She nodded, not understanding or agreeing but knowing she had to appease him. He’d rarely looked so stern when talking with her.

      Satisfied, he said, “There were too many people here last night, so I didn’t get the chance to ask. That thing I went after really was a wolf dog, huh, like Yoda?”

      “Yes, I’m certain of it. She had the long legs of a wolf and I recognize the snout. I must have walked back and forth across two miles this morning, but I couldn’t find her. She’s skittish. I’ll try again tomorrow.”

      “Skittish?” Grandpa asked.

      “Yes,” Meredith answered. “Plus leery. You’ve heard me talk about Yoda.”

      “The wolf dog you use for public relations back at BAA. Your favorite.”

      Meredith always felt a little guilty when people remarked that Yoda was her favorite. She loved all the animals, even BAA’s grumpiest camel who liked to spit on her. But she and Yoda did have a special bond.

      “Obviously, you managed to get him to trust you.” Grandpa finished his orange juice, but he’d only eaten a tiny corner of of the hash browns she’d prepared, maybe two bites of one sausage, and СКАЧАТЬ