Plain Jane (30 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Plain Jane
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“Oh no, Olive is my dog,” Jane said, her temper flaring again. She was beginning to feel like a yo-yo. “Olive stays with me. I can't believe you said that. Okay, okay, you made your point. I'll take a shower since you say I smell, then I'll be out here to do whatever it is you want me to do.” When she turned to go, Trixie put a hand on her arm and turned it back.
“It doesn't work that way, Jane. It's got to be what you want to do, not what I want you to do. I told you, I don't want an attitude. If your ass isn't out here in this compound in fifteen minutes, our deal is off. You have clothes in the top dresser drawer in the spare room.”
Trixie watched as Jane shuffled her way to the house. “No shuffling. Pick up your feet. Better yet,
RUN!”
She grinned when Jane sprinted for the house.
Sometimes,
she thought,
age works in one's favor. That definitely was
not
a Hallmark moment.
The moment Olive pranced into the fray, the dogs were on their feet. Flash strutted alongside the springer. It was almost as if the others recognized Olive as Top Dog Three.
The day went off without a hitch as all the dogs were washed, dried, and clipped. They broke once for lunch when Fred brought down BLTs and a sack of dog food. Trixie watched as Jane choked down the food. She showed her godchild no mercy. “You've been drinking so long you forgot how to chew. I want you to stay here with us for a few days so I can watch over you. Fred will go over to your house and get your things.”
“No, I am not staying here, Trixie,” Jane said adamantly.
“Oh yes you are,” Fred said, agreeing with his wife.
Jane shrugged. She knew she was overruled. “All right, I'll stay.”
“Good. Fred and I have something we want to talk to you about over supper. Wipe that look of panic off your face, sweetie. It's a good thing. We did real good today. Real good.”
“Could it wait? I'm really tired, Trixie.”
“Stop whining, Jane. I'm just as tired as you are, and I'm older. Lots older. We took on this responsibility, and we can't shirk it because
you're
tired. You need to take vitamins and you need to call Mike when we finish up. Another shower, fresh clothes, and you'll be ready for dinner.”
Jane winced. “Sharon Thomas is suing me. I was served papers this morning.”
“Don't tell me you're worried about a little thing like that,” Trixie scoffed. “You need to play hardball where that witch is concerned. Trust me when I tell you we can make it all go away in the blink of an eye.”
“For God's sake, Trixie, I broke her nose. I'm responsible. She could take me for everything I have.”
“What's that you always say on your radio show? Follow the
three
R's: respect for self, respect for others, responsibility for all your actions. I rest my case.”
Jane smiled in spite of herself. Trixie was right again.
“John Murray and his trainers will be here all day tomorrow, but I think we can squeeze in time to visit Dr. Thomas. Aren't they beautiful animals, Jane?” she asked, flitting from one topic to the other without a hitch.
“Yes, they are. They're magnificent. The big question is, are you going to be able to give them up?”
“Not easily, I can tell you that right now. But I have the right mind-set. I know their leaving and going into service will be for the greater good. Lives will be saved because of them.” She looked down at Olive. “Olive is doing well with them. Dogs have this innate sense where other animals are concerned. It's not just people. They know we're taking care of them. I think they're over the worst of their fear. Tonight is going to be tough on them.” She stared at them and sighed. Then she turned to Jane. “So, are you going to call Mike or not? He's been calling and stopping by so often I want to shoot him to put him out of his misery. You aren't being fair to him. Why aren't you wearing his ring? He's doing what you wanted him to do, staying away from you. How would you feel if he looked up that plastic doll he used to date? What's her name?”
“Coletta. I don't think I'd like it.”
“Damn straight you wouldn't like it. That's what's going to happen. You mark my words unless you do something. You know I'm always right, Janie.”
“Trixie, lay off, okay?” Jane mumbled. “I'll call him. I haven't been in a good place these past weeks. Yes, I drank too much. It was the only way I could sleep.”
“You're no boozer, honey. Drinking isn't a sleeping pill. Facing up to your problems is your pill. Fred and I will help you. But first you have to want to help yourself. Today is a good start. C'mon, let's get back to work.”
“I'm sorry I let you down,” Jane said, needing to get back into Trixie's good graces. Trixie and Fred were the two most important people in her life, and she didn't want them to be upset with her.
“I really thought you were tougher than that,” Trixie said.
“Nah. I'm all mush.”
“Mush hardens if you let it sit long enough,” Trixie shot back.
“Touché,
Trixie.”
 
 
“What do you think, Fred?” Trixie whispered.
“I assume you're referring to that little stroll Janie and Mike are taking? I think it's looking good, but our girl isn't out of the woods yet. I'm glad you convinced her to stay here. How'd you do that?”
“You don't want to know.” Trixie poured herself and Fred coffee. “I actually saw a spark in her eyes when you told her about the hands contest. She even asked questions. That's a good sign. We're going to work on the rest of it.” She handed Fred his cup and sat down. “Tomorrow we're going to see her colleague so I can flatten her out. Don't say it, Fred. I know what I'm doing. Then, as long as I have Janie in the car, I'm taking her to the lawyer's office so she can sign the release forms for Mike to take over the radio show. She seems to be having a problem signing off on things.” When Flash snuggled at her feet, she pushed off her shoes and buried her toes into his fur. “I saw the letter Betty Vance wrote Janie. It's sad, Fred. So sad.”
Fred sat back and sipped his coffee. “I can't imagine things getting so bad that I would end up taking my own life.”
“Me either,” Trixie agreed, rolling her eyes. “Did I tell you that Janie wants to buy her parents' old house? I asked her why and she said—you won't believe this, Fred—for sentimental reasons. Sentimental my ass. She's done a lot of weird things lately. I'm beginning to think it has something to do with all those dreams she's been having.” Trixie took a deep breath and leaned back in her chair. “We have a couple of cans of worms here, and they're wiggling in all directions.”
“You'll handle it, honey. You always do. Would you mind scratching my back just a little?” Fred turned around and presented Trixie with his back. “Aaahhh, that's good. A little lower. Perfect.”
“Mike's gone,” Trixie said. “I just heard him start up his car. Guess it's safe to leave the kitchen now.”
“Guess so,” Fred said, yawning elaborately. “Let's go to bed.”
Trixie yawned, too. “I'm so tired I don't know if I can go to sleep.” She took Fred's hand and let him lead her to their bedroom.
Flash lay down on the braided rug in the bedroom. The moment Fred and Trixie's breathing evened out in sleep, he was on his feet. He waited for Golda to crawl out from under the bed before making his way down the steps to the first floor where the two of them waited for Olive to join them. Flash waited like the gentleman he was until both Golda and Olive bellied out the doggie door. Because his size prohibited him from following suit, he lifted his paw, pushed the lock, and, with his snout turned the knob. Once he was out, the three of them sprinted to the barn, where it was Olive's turn to open the door.
The eight new arrivals sat up expectantly, unsure what the game plan was. With Olive and Golda flanking him, Flash danced and pranced until the others realized they were to follow the three top dogs. Outside in the clear, crisp night they all stared at their leader, awaiting his instructions. Flash, with Olive's help, herded the newcomers into a line with Golda bringing up the rear. He looked back once. Satisfied with what he saw, he walked toward the house and into the kitchen. The other dogs followed him, curious but quiet. They waited while Olive nosed the door shut and snicked the lock back into place.
Eleven dogs paraded single file through the kitchen, dining room, living room, and into the foyer where they sat at the bottom of the stairs awaiting further instructions. Flash led the way. When he reached the top of the stairs, he looked around as though doing a body count before starting down the hall to Trixie and Fred's bedroom. He herded the dogs into the bedroom, silently ordered them to sit. He waited a full minute before he reached his paw up to flip the light switch.
Trixie blinked and sat up in bed. When she saw the dogs, she gasped, then shook Fred. “Wake up, Fred! You aren't going to believe this. Damn it, Fred, wake up!”
Fred looked from left to right. “What's wrong? Is the house on fire? Are you sick?” Then he saw the dogs. “Oh, sweet Jesus! Flash, what have you done?”
Flash leaped on the bed and nuzzled Trixie under the chin before he sat down to wait for praise. “Fred, we can't scold him. He thinks he did a good thing. Good boy, Flash,” Trixie said, gurgling with laughter as first one dog then another jumped up and down off the bed. Thinking the trip to the main house was some kind of game, the mini herd started to bark. And bark.
Jane poked her head in the door and collapsed in laughter. “How'd they get in here?” she said, gasping for breath.
“I think it's safe to say Olive taught Flash how to open the door and the three of them decided . . . whatever they decided. We have eleven dogs here!” Trixie said, hugging one of the new dogs. A male shepherd sat between Fred's legs, licking his beard.
“Now what?” Jane asked.
“I think they're here to stay, for tonight anyway,” Trixie laughed.
“That's what you get for teaching Flash about a family.” Jane crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. “He's more human than you know. When you think about it, what he did is quite wonderful. As you so aptly pointed out to me today, what's more important than family? That attitude and that kind of thinking are what makes you such a success in life, and it's working now with the animals.”
“We have to take them back outside. I'm not sleeping in a kennel,” Fred grumbled.
“C'mon, Fred, just until they get over their fears. A few days at the most. What can it hurt? If you nix this, then you'll force me to take this bed into the barn and you can sleep on the couch. You know how you like to cuddle.”
“All right, all right! Now, can we go to sleep?”
“You can try, honey. Anything is possible,” Trixie said, curling next to a shepherd named Picco.
 
 
“Something smells wonderful,” Jane said, sitting down at the table. “I just love to smell frying bacon and coffee. I love it even more when I'm not the one doing the cooking. You're up early, Fred.”
“I didn't sleep much. I don't know if I can handle this, Jane. What are you doing up so early?”
“I didn't sleep at all. I sat up in bed and did a lot of thinking. I even made notes. Trixie was right yesterday when she said I lost my way. But I think I've got all my ducks together now. They might not be in a tidy row, but I have them. Why is she always right, Fred?”
“I wish I knew,” he said, shaking his head.
“What
are
you cooking over there? And where is Trixie?”
Fred grinned. “I'm making banana-macadamia nut pancakes with banana syrup and melted butter. Trixie is in the barn with John Murray. She said she'll be up by eight because the two of you are going to town. How many pancakes, Jane?”
“Four,” Jane said smartly. “And four slices of bacon.”
He made a show of flipping a pancake into the air. “How did things go with Mike last night?”
“Pretty good. He's trying not to be angry with me, but he is. I understand what he's feeling. He doesn't understand what I'm feeling, though. He says he does, but he doesn't. Mike likes things to be black or white. The biggest sticking point right now is that I didn't go to his parents with him for Christmas. He's taking it personally. When I have to explain myself to the person who is supposed to love me, then there's something wrong. It seems to me that he of all people should understand where my emotions were and why. He is a psychiatrist, for God's sake. He's also upset that I'm not wearing his ring. But I'm not going to put it back on until our playing field is level. What would be the point? We'll see what happens. I do love him.”

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