Linny's Sweet Dream List (4 page)

Linny was dripping with perspiration as she tried to take apart the window AC unit to see if she could find a filter and clean it.

Mary Catherine mopped her face with a clean rag dipped in cool water, and held up a finger. “Be right back.” She trotted outside, and few moments later, poked her head in the trailer and beckoned. “Come on out.”

Linny rolled her shoulders as she trudged outside into the oven broiler of an afternoon, and broke into a smile when she saw the blue baby pool that Mary Catherine must have crammed in the back of her car. She'd almost finished filling it with the garden hose. “Oh, how perfect.” She put her hand to her mouth, examined the happy crabs and little treasure chests that decorated the pool, and felt like crying. It was just what she needed. “I don't know where my bathing suit is.”

“We'll wear our clothes.” Mary Catherine kicked off her shoes and sank in. “Aaah. Every country girl's dream—an above ground pool.” She pointed to a small cooler. “Cold beer. We deserve a reward for all our hard work.”

“We do.” Linny grabbed two icy St. Pauli Girls, popped the tops with the opener Mary Catherine had thoughtfully tied to the cooler, untied her sneakers, and sank into the chilly water. “This is heavenly,” she said, and dipped her head back to wet her hair.

Mary Catherine took a swig, and gave her a sideways glance. “How are you doing?”

“Bumping along.” Linny tipped back the green bottle and shook her head as if to clear it. “I still can't believe he's gone.”

Mary Catherine nodded.

“The way he died was so embarrassing. What husband dies of a heart attack at the Surfside Inn with a woman named Kandi? Kandi with a K,” Linny clarified.

“Bet she dots her i's with a little heart.” Her friend stared contemplatively at her beer bottle. “Still, he saved you the trouble of a divorce.”

“True.” Linny shuddered.

“You gotten up with Diamond?”

Mary Catherine had referred her to a colleague, but Linny had her doubts about an attorney named Diamond. Still, the woman seemed to be on the ball. “She's already put the probate notice in the papers, but it could take a year to sort out.” Linny turned to her friend. “The widow is responsible for the dead husband's debt, right?”

“Depends on the business entity. The corporation is responsible for the business debts, but any liabilities he personally guaranteed are on the widow.”

Linny remembered the funeral director apologetically declining her credit card when she'd tried to pay for Buck's casket. Her heart beating wildly, she had checked the account on her phone and stared in disbelief at the ba0lance. A call to the bank confirmed the awful truth—Buck's high-roller lifestyle had been partially funded by her savings—including Andy's life insurance payout. Her brother-in-law had to help her trade in her new Volvo for a ten-years-older model, just so she'd have the cash to bury Buck. “I can't believe I trusted him to handle all the finances. I just turned them over to him because he seemed so smart about money. So June Cleaver.”

Mary Catherine grimaced, and shook her head. “Happens more than you'd think.”

Linny nodded. She tried to be surreptitious as she snapped the rubber band on her wrist and pictured doing the
twist toward tenacity with a tortoise
. She sighed. The visual wasn't that reassuring. “Maybe the money will turn up.”

“It's possible.” Mary Catherine's voice was neutral. She pointed at Linny's wrist with her beer bottle. “Is that some sort of Kabbalah bracelet?”

“No. I'm trying to stop criticizing myself.” She peeled at the label of her beer with a dirty fingernail. “Why didn't I listen to you about checking his finances?”

“I think you said it would be ‘vulgar' to ask about money.” Mary Catherine gave a half smile. “But stop beating yourself up. He said he was financially stable, and you trusted him.” Her eyes were kind. “You'll get through this. You just need to hunker down and regroup.”

Linny felt a sting of irritation as she glanced at her friend's expensive haircut and perfect manicure. Easy to dish out advice when you were sitting pretty. “I know that,” she said more sharply than she'd intended.

“Sorry, Linny. You know me, I boss the people I love.” Mary Catherine squinted off into the distance. “I can try to be quiet if you want.”

“Don't.” Linny felt ashamed, remembering how many times her friend had been there for her. In third grade, Linny had just been knocked down again at recess by a bully named Billy Grubber when Mary Catherine—a wiry fourth grader—saw the trouble, raced over, and shoved the boy to the ground. She'd threatened to beat the snot out of him if he ever touched Linny again. “Sorry. I'm just a mess, and your life is so together.”

Her friend gave a wry smile, and gently knocked on Linny's head. “Hello, hello? My husband has been unemployed for the last two years and just now landed a job. My son is a mouth-of-the-south nineteen-year-old who knows everything. I don't have it together either.”

Linny touched her hand. “I'm sorry. And sorry for being so self-involved.”

“You have a right.” Mary Catherine took a last swallow of beer and stood. “I need to get home. I've got a hungry husband and chores.”

Linny rose and stepped from the pool. Her dripping clothes made the humid air feel refreshingly cool on her skin. “Kate's coming tomorrow to help me size up the repairs.”

“Good to have a sister who helps run her husband's construction business.” Mary Catherine squeezed water from the ends of her hair.

“It is.” Linny walked Mary Catherine to her car, found a piece of packing carton cardboard for her to sit on, and gave her a soggy hug. She waved, and tried to smile until Mary Catherine's car disappeared from view. Linny fought an urge to lie down in the dirt yard, curl up in a ball, and wait for time to pass and the world to right itself. She made a half-hearted attempt to muster up an
east coast swing with an eagle
or a
salsa with a squirrel,
but came up empty. With leaden steps, she trudged back to the trailer.

L
inny woke with a start and strained her ears, but there was only silence. She lay rigid. Though blurred around the edges from a choppy sleep, she was sure she'd heard something. Bleary-eyed, she glanced at the clock. Two seventeen. Holding her breath, she listened harder. There it was.
Scritch, scritch.
Slowly, she reached under the bed and pulled out the baseball bat Andy had bought for her for when he traveled for work. Breathing shallowly, she heard the scratching resume, followed by a faint mewling sound. Her mind raced. If she called 911 out here in the county, it would take the sheriff 's department thirty minutes to arrive. Her body could be cold by then. Terrified, she crept from the bed, quiet as a mouse. In the living room, the sound became louder. It was coming from underneath the trailer.

Linny's mind raced. Should she hide? But where? The doors and windows were so flimsy; it would be a cinch for an intruder to break in. Why would someone want to break into a trailer? She shuddered. Maybe the former renters were involved with drugs, like in the TV crime show she'd watched last week. Switching on the outside lights, she clenched the bat in her hands, threw open the living room window. In as deep and manly a voice as she could muster, she bellowed out, “The sheriff is on the way and I have a gun. You'd better get your butt out of here.”

Peeking out from behind dusty mini-blinds, she saw a small black ball of fur race out from beneath the trailer, and stand in a weak pool of light outside the front door. It was a quivering black puppy. Linny's receding terror left her limp. She breathed, unlocked the door and called to the puppy softly, “Hey. Hey there sweetie pie. Sorry for yelling. It's all right.” The pup looked at her, tail wiggling, and scrambled up the first stair. Still crooning, she stooped and extended her hand, but it quickly backed away. Slowly she stepped down and sat on the bottom step, her hands on her knees. She sent a steady stream of patter in its direction. “It's late for you to be outside all by yourself. Where's your Mama?” The puppy sidled up to her. She scooped it up and held it. The animal's coat was matted, and Linny could feel every rib. Its heart hammered as hard as hers did.

“Hey, there. It's all right,” she crooned. She started and then burst out laughing as a warm trickle ran down her nightgown. Holding the little guy up to look in its velvet eyes, she said, “You peed on me. Does this mean you're glad to see me?” She hurried back inside with the squirming bundle, but hesitated, wondering for a moment if the puppy would bring in fleas, or go to the bathroom inside. Then she shook her head ruefully. The trailer was so dirty, it didn't matter.

“You must have been so scared.” Quickly rummaging through the
Kitchen
box, she found a bowl and filled it with water. As she held it out, the puppy lapped greedily. Linny kissed the top of its head, and recoiled. It smelled like dirty socks and old shrimp shells. She'd have to bathe the critter first thing tomorrow. “Looks like I've got myself a friend,” she said softly, feeling a measure of comfort she hadn't felt in far too long.

 

Later that morning, Linny sat at the kitchen table, chin in hand, and yawned. She sipped a flat Diet Pepsi and chewed a protein bar. At her feet, a whiffling snore emanated from the
B
OOKS
box, and a shiny black button of a nose rested atop the nest she'd made from an old flannel sheet and lined with a garbage bag.

She rubbed her eyes. Now the dog was sleeping. At four thirty that morning, the whimpering finally stopped when she'd hauled the box up on the mattress beside her. She rotated her shoulder, stiff from draping her arm in the box to pat him. The softness of his fur, and the rise and fall of his regular breathing had felt so good to her.

Clicking through her Kindle to the end of Indigo's book, she found the “Life of Gratitude and Joy” daily affirmation statements she'd been looking for. Today's was apt.
Open your heart to softness and warmth.
Smiling, she reached down to give the puppy a scratch. Today's assignment was easy.

Glancing at the clock on the stove, she wondered whether it was too early to call Kate. Nah. By now, Miss Virtuous Early Riser had probably showered, done a load of wash, and finished a lesson plan for fall. She dialed her sister's number, and breathed through her mouth as she scooped up the sleepy ball of fur and rested it on her shoulder. When Kate picked up, Linny said, “You're a witch. You were so sure I needed a dog, and, last night, a puppy showed up on my doorstep.”

“You're kidding!” Kate's voice was an octave higher than usual. “That's amazing.”

The puppy blinked and gently gnawed on Linny's finger. “I gave it milk and a packet of tuna fish, but puppies need special food, don't they?”

“They do. We'll get whatever supplies it needs. I'm so excited!” Kate paused to draw a breath. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

Linny lifted the puppy and looked at its nether areas. What was she supposed to be looking for? “Beats me.”

Kate laughed. “I'll be there about ten o'clock. I can't wait.”

“I'll be here.” Ending the call, she held her breath and kissed the puppy's downy head, murmuring, “Let's get you a bath, and then I've got to get cracking.”

After rinsing the Moroccan oil infused shampoo from its black coat, Linny grinned and toweled the puppy off. “Good boy . . . or girl.” The damp dog chewed on an old sneaker from the G
OODWILL
box as Linny drew in a deep breath, pulled on rubber gloves, and filled a bucket with steaming water. The first job was to further sanitize the bathroom. Yesterday she'd fought revulsion as she'd done her best to clean the green-encrusted toilet. It was better, but not good enough. This morning, she'd use Mary Catherine's bottle of environmentally unfriendly super disinfectant, and re-scrub it mercilessly, vanquishing any former renters' cooties.

Linny gave a little shriek and flailed, waving her toilet brush as the floor around the commode gave way.
Good Lord.
As she extricated her foot, she thought about the shock of one minute innocently tinkling, and the next plummeting through the floor to the underbelly of the trailer. She surprised herself with a chuckle that turned into laughter that was hard to stop. Though she knew she was just punchy, it still felt good to laugh. She wiped her eyes with toilet paper, and duct taped a piece of packing box cardboard over the hole in the floor.

As she scrubbed the tub with a hard bristled brush, she glanced out the small window and saw her sister pull up in her Honda. Linny stuck a yellow rubber gloved hand out the bathroom window and waved. She picked up the box containing the sleeping puppy, and hurried to greet her.

Clasping her hands together, Kate stepped from the car, and fairly danced to the porch. “Hey, there. I'm so excited about the puppy!”

“Hey, girly.” Linny lowered the box to the porch floor, and stood, admiring her sister's sloe eyes, pointed chin, and crop of unruly auburn hair. Kate's thrift store ensemble was a twirly cotton skirt, red cowboy boots, and a T-shirt that read,
All children are gifted and talented.
When tiny-boned Kate folded her into an extravagant hug, Linny felt almost weak with relief. She felt safer, more like her normal self in this jarring new setting. “Go say hello.” Linny pointed her sister to the box.

Gently lifting up the sleepy dog, Kate nuzzled his face. “Aren't you precious!” She hugged the dog, breathed in its fur, and cocked her head at Linny. “Puppies usually smell like Fritos corn chips and new baby.”

Linny gave a rueful smile. “It's my twenty-two-dollar-a-bottle shampoo. The little guy . . . or gal . . . smelled awful when it showed up. I had to bathe it first thing.”

Her sister nodded and, lifting the puppy, eyed it. “It's a he . . .” She rubbed the puppy's fat belly. “. . . and he's got worms.”

Linny wrinkled her nose. “Oh, that's disgusting. I've been hugging him, and he practically slept in the bed with me last night.”

Kate looked amused and shook her head. “It's no big deal, but you'll want to get them treated and make sure he gets his shots.” She shifted the puppy to her other shoulder and, reaching in the pocket of her skirt, handed Linny a slip of paper. “I brought you the number of our vet, Jack Avery. He's the best.”

She took the paper and stared at it unseeingly as her mind darted about. Of course it cost money to own a dog. She'd been so distracted by the puppy's arrival that she'd not thought though the practicalities. Smoothing the piece of paper on her thigh, she looked at Kate. “I'm not sure I have the money to keep the dog.”

“If you don't, we can cover you for a while.” Kate's smile was beatific as she eased the puppy back into Linny's arms. “You were meant to have this dog.”

Linny stroked the puppy's silky ear, wavering. “What about while I'm at work?”

“We can work around my school schedule. Classes don't start for another week yet, so we can come up with a plan.” Her sister's voice was firm. “You can't give this puppy up. If you take him to the animal shelter, he could get euthanized.”

Linny hugged the puppy. She couldn't let that happen. Her words tumbled out. “I'll figure out a way to make it work.”

“Good. Then it's decided.” Kate nodded. “Any ideas on what you'll call him?”

She hesitated. She and Andy had talked about getting a dog, and they'd come up with some good names. “What about Roy for Roy Rogers?” Linny and Kate had loved those reruns when they were girls.

“Roy. Perfect.” Kate nodded gravely, examining the dog's face. “He can catch bad guys for you.” She gave him one last pat, as Linny slipped him back into his nest.

“Come help me unload. I ran by the pet store and picked up a few things to get you started,” Kate said.

Linny followed her sister to the car. Peeking into the bags piled in the open trunk, she spotted leashes, puppy chow, and a fleece-lined bed. “Kate, you're spoiling us.”

Kate waved her hand. “Dogs are for spoiling. We spoil Duke and Delilah, but we think of them as children with fur.” She paused, suddenly looking vulnerable.

Linny put down her parcels and wound her arms around Kate. She and Jerry had tried for so many years to have a baby, and the most recent round of in vitro had failed. Feeling a wave of love, she rested her chin on top of her sister's head.

Kate brushed at her brimming eyes with her fingers and said briskly, “Let's get going.” She gave Linny a knowing look, and cracked a smile. “You need to get a To-Do list going.” With one hand on her hip, she gazed appraisingly at the trailer. “With work, it might have a kitschy appeal.”

“Kitschy?” Linny stared at the trailer. Darned if she could see kitschy.

Her sister nodded. “I did a little research on the Internet. It's a 1976 Scenic-View, and was the top of the line in its day.”

“Mary Catherine and I cleaned yesterday, but it's still rough.” Linny warned, as she held open the door. “Come on in.”

“I haven't been inside in ages.” Kate sniffed. “I smell good clean smells, and nasty carpeting.”

“I'll rip it out.” Linny nodded vigorously, as she grabbed her spiral notebook and pen from the kitchen table.

Together they slowly walked through each room, and around the exterior of the trailer. Linny scribbled notes as Kate told her what the big projects were, their order of priority, and the estimated costs.

In the spare bedroom, Kate picked up a wooden decoy from the top of a packing box and examined it. “This is pretty, I haven't seen it before.”

“I snagged it out of the boxes of Buck's stuff just as the thrift store truck pulled into the driveway. He always called it his Lucky Duck, and would pat it before big meetings.”

Her sister cocked her head inquisitively. “Did you keep it for the luck?”

Linny shook her head no. “I just thought he was a sweet little guy, and didn't want to see him go to someone who didn't appreciate him,” she admitted.

Kate nodded. “Everyone needs to be appreciated.” She patted the decoy on his head before she set him back on top of the box.

After they sized up the last room, Kate announced, “We need to smudge.” She rummaged in her fringed purse and held aloft a bundle. “White sage. Native Americans use it for purification.” She pulled a book of matches and an ashtray from her purse. “We light the ends, and wave the smoke around each room. We'll clear out the bad karma, and replace it with good.”

Though Linny had little truck with karma, she followed her smoking sister through every room. If a little sage could steam clean out negativity, she was all for it.

Afterward, she sat beside her sister on the porch floor as they sipped bottles of icy water. She glanced around the trailer and gazed at her sister. “Can I can handle living in this place?”

“Yup.” Kate nodded firmly. “This place will work fine for the short term. Glad Mama was between tenants.”

Linny got a mental picture of the pink jeep parked in the middle of her mother's chaotic living room and shivered. “Mama's house is getting worse.”

Kate frowned. “I know. I try to talk to her about it, and she bites my head off.”

Linny swatted away a mosquito. “Her yard sale-ing is out of control.”

“I know. Maybe I'll ask Jerry to talk to her.” She raised her eyes heavenward. “Mama listens to him like every word he says is a pearl of wisdom.”

“One other thing . . .” Linny started. “Have you noticed how Mama talks about Daddy? She sounds almost bitter when she reminisces.”