The Christmas Dog (13 page)

Avery’s bedroom door was open, but Avery was not in her room. Her bed was neatly made, and some of her clothes were folded and sitting at the foot of it.

“Avery?” Betty tapped lightly on the partially opened bathroom door. But Avery wasn’t in there. Betty continued to look through the house, only to discover that Avery wasn’t there at all. But where could she be? Suddenly Betty realized that she’d never gotten her car keys back from Avery last night. But when she hurried out to the garage, she found the car parked there as usual.

As Betty made coffee—a full pot since she told herself that Avery had simply taken a morning stroll—the phone rang again. This time it was Gary, and all Betty could tell him was that Avery had come home safely last night but had gone out again this morning.

“This isn’t helpful, Mother.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s all I know.”

“Steph is really bugging me to get that ticket.”

“Like I told her yesterday, that is up to you. I don’t know how to advise you.”

“Well, when Avery comes in, please ask her to call.”

She promised to do that and hung up. A part of her was tempted to jerk the cord out of the wall, but she knew that wasn’t a very responsible thing to do. Instead, she sat down and drank her coffee and prayed that Avery would come home soon. Surely she’d want to go to Jim and Marsha’s anniversary celebration this afternoon. She had worked so hard on those decorations and had been so excited about everything. Betty remembered how her face had lit up while she was talking about it yesterday. Yes, Avery would certainly want to go to the party.

But at one twenty, Avery was still not back. The party was supposed to start at two, but Betty had planned to get there early to check on things. So she left Avery a note along with bus fare, saying that she looked forward to seeing her at the celebration.

Betty grew increasingly nervous as she drove toward the church. Suddenly she was remembering those gaudy flowers again, those mysterious bags, and how Avery had holed up in her room. What if she’d actually created a monstrosity? What if Avery was too embarrassed to show her face at the church now? How would Betty explain it? How could she possibly apologize or make it up to her good friends?

Betty parked in the back, thankful that no other cars were there yet. It was barely one thirty now. If the decorations were truly a disaster, Betty might have enough time to make changes, to cover up for her granddaughter’s lack of discretion.

She entered the church and headed straight down the stairs, bracing herself. She was about to turn on the lights when she realized there was already some light down there. Not bright, but enough to see.

Betty entered the room and was stunned to find that the basement had been transformed into a gold and white fairyland. So pretty it literally took her breath away. How was it possible that Avery had done this? And on such a frugal budget? It seemed nothing short of miraculous.

Betty walked through the room, admiring a concoction of gauzy white fabric that was hung like an arbor over the main table. The folds of fabric were sprinkled with gold sparkles and tiny stars and intertwined with small white Christmas lights. There were pearly white and gold balloons here and there, and an abundance of gold and white flowers artfully arranged. Upon closer investigation, Betty discovered that spray paint had been involved—Avery had used metallic gold and white spray paint to transform the previously brightcolored artificial blooms into something much more dignified and fitting for a golden anniversary.

Paper doilies were painted gold, arranged beautifully beneath small stacks of white paper plates and embossed napkins. If Avery had told Betty she was using plain paper plates, Betty would’ve been concerned. But the way Avery had placed and arranged everything—it was all perfectly elegant. It was truly a work of art. Betty wished she’d thought to bring a camera. But surely someone would have one.

Now Betty noticed a number of white candles that had touches of gold spray paint, like gilt, to make them lovelier. And nearby was a box of matches and what appeared to be a folded note with “Betty Kowalski” written on it.

Dear Grandma,
     I came by and turned the light strings on. All you need to do is light the candles and it should be all set for Jim and Marsha. I’m sorry to miss it. And I’m sorry I’ve been so much trouble for you. I know I need to figure out my own life, and that’s what I plan to do. Thank you for putting up with me.
     Love,
     Avery

Betty refolded the note and slipped it into her purse. Avery must’ve stopped by here sometime earlier. Perhaps just to make sure that everything was still okay. But why hadn’t she stayed for the party? What difference would a few more hours make? Why had Avery been in such a hurry?

Of course, Betty knew why. It was because of her . . . and what she’d done to Ralph.

Betty put her coat and purse in the closet and slowly went about the room, lighting the various candles and pausing to admire the beauty of her granddaughter’s handiwork.

The flickering candlelight, which was reflected on surfaces of metallic gold, made the room even more magical than it had been before. It was a masterpiece. And Betty knew that Marsha and Jim would appreciate it.

As she stood off to one side, looking at the scene from a distance, she realized that once again she was crying. She went into the bathroom, blew her nose, and dried her tears, telling herself that she was too old for such melodrama.

And, really, shouldn’t she be happy for her granddaughter? Avery’s note had actually sounded very mature. As if she had finally decided to take responsibility for her own life. To stand on her own two feet. Yet Betty couldn’t help but wonder how Avery would accomplish this with little or no money. How could Avery possibly take care of herself? What would she eat? Where would she sleep? How would she manage to get by?

Betty heard some young-sounding voices outside of the bathroom and suddenly felt hopeful. Perhaps Avery had changed her mind and come back. Maybe she’d give Betty a chance to start over again after all. Eagerly, Betty went out into the room to discover Jim and Marsha and their children and grandchildren. They were going around the room oohing and aahing, obviously pleased with Avery’s creation. Betty forced a smile to cover her disappointment as she said, “Happy anniversary!”

“Oh, Betty,” Marsha gushed, “it’s so beautiful!”

“Did you do this?” asked Marsha’s younger daughter, Lynn.

“No, not me,” Betty said quickly.

“It was Betty’s granddaughter, Avery,” Marsha said.

“Well, it’s incredible,” Lynn said.

“Is your granddaughter an artist?” one of the grandchildren asked. Betty didn’t recall the little girl’s name.

Betty nodded proudly. “Yes, I think she is.”

“Is she here?” she asked eagerly.

Betty sighed. “No, unfortunately, she had to leave.”

“I want to get photos of this before anything gets messed up,” Lynn said. “Mom and Dad, you go stand over there beneath that arbor thing, and let’s get some shots.”

Soon the cake arrived, and although Betty wasn’t on the refreshment committee or the cleanup committee, she spent most of her time helping in the kitchen. Oh, she made an appearance now and then, smiling and visiting congenially, but mostly she wanted to remain behind the scenes, alone with her thoughts. She didn’t wish to spoil her friends’ fun, so she hid her broken heart behind busyness.

Finally, the party was winding down. Jim and Marsha came into the kitchen and thanked Betty again. “It was so beautiful,” Marsha said. “I wish Avery had been able to come. I would’ve loved to tell her in person how brilliant I think she is.”

“I’m sure Betty will pass that along,” Jim said.

“Of course.” Betty nodded.

“Will you join us for dinner?” Marsha asked. “Lynn surprised us by having it all catered at our house, and I know there’s plenty for—”

“No thank you,” Betty said quickly.

“Avery could come too,” Jim said.

“Thanks, but we have other plans.”

“Are you sure?” Marsha looked disappointed.

“Yes.” Betty forced a smile.

Then Marsha and Jim hugged Betty and wished both her and Avery a merry Christmas. Betty told them to have a delightful cruise and to send a postcard.

“Count on it,” Marsha said as she rejoined her family.

Betty remained in the kitchen just puttering around, wiping things that she’d already wiped, and waiting for everyone to depart on their merry ways. Finally, it was only the cleanup committee that remained, and they were getting right to work.

“Hey, Betty,” Irene called out, “do you want to save any of these decorations?”

Betty went out and looked around the room. It no longer seemed magical with the harsh glare from the florescent overhead lights. Irene blew the last candle out, and others gathered up trash, plates with remnants of uneaten cake, plastic cups, and wadded-up napkins.

She was about to say no but then thought of Avery and all her hard work. She went to the main table and picked up a candle that was wreathed in gold and white flowers. “Yes,” she told Irene. “I’ll keep this as a memento.”

“We’ll put some of these other things in the wedding closet,” Irene said. “You never know what might come in handy.”

Betty nodded. “You never know.” Then she got her coat and purse and went out to her car. It was just getting dusky out, and as Betty drove, she couldn’t help but keep a lookout for Avery. How she longed to spot the girl, to pick her up, hug her tightly, and take her home. But there was no sign of her.

As Betty turned down her street, she saw that it was beginning to snow. Perhaps Avery’s much-longed-for white Christmas was about to become a reality. But where was Avery?

Suddenly, Betty grew hopeful again. Perhaps Avery was at home. Maybe she’d realized that being broke and homeless on a cold day like this was not all she’d hoped it would be. Maybe she’d come to her senses.

Betty was tempted to drive fast, but she knew the streets were getting slick, and her night vision was lacking, so she went slowly and carefully. But when she got into the house, it looked just as it had when she’d left. Avery’s clothes were still folded neatly at the foot of her bed. This had given Betty some hope earlier, thinking that Avery had probably planned to return. But as Betty looked more closely, it seemed that most of Avery’s things, including her oversized bag and personal items from the bathroom, were missing. As if she had packed up and left for good. Those few items of clothing still on the bed had probably been too bulky to stuff into her bag.

Betty picked up a wooly sweater that Avery had purchased for two dollars at Goodwill, and held it to her chest. Why hadn’t Avery taken this with her? If it was too big to pack, she could’ve at least worn it under her parka. It would’ve been much warmer than some of those other lightweight blouses Avery often wore. Why hadn’t she taken it with her? And why had she left at all?

13

At five thirty, Betty put together a cookie platter for the Gilmores. She’d been meaning to do this for a couple of days, but what with Avery, the dog, and the anniversary party, she had forgotten. But now, despite the weather and the hour, she was determined to get it delivered. And her determination was twofold. Naturally, she wanted to be neighborly. But she also wanted to know if, by any chance, they had observed Avery coming or going today. Perhaps Katie had spoken to her. Although it seemed unlikely.

There was a dusting of snow on the sidewalk as Betty made her way down the street, then knocked on the Gilmores’ door.

“Oh!” Katie opened the door, holding a roll of Santa wrapping paper in her hand. “What are you doing out in this weather?”

Betty forced a smile. “Wishing my neighbors a merry Christmas!” She held out the cookie tray.

“Oh, thank you!” Katie stuck the roll of wrapping paper beneath her elbow to receive the platter of sweets. “Won’t you come in?”

“Perhaps for a minute.”

“Martin took the girls out to get a Christmas tree,” Katie said as Betty came inside. “He grew up in a family that firmly believed respectable people never put up their trees
until
Christmas Eve. But the girls begged and begged, and he finally gave in. So this year our tree will be up two days before Christmas.” She winked. “That’s progress.”

“Yes.” Betty nodded and smiled.

Katie cleared away wrapping paper and ribbons to make a spot for the cookies on the dining room table. “Would you like some coffee or tea or—”

“No thank you. I really can’t stay. I can see you’re busy.”

“And I know you have your granddaughter visiting . . .” Katie frowned slightly, as if something unpleasant just occurred to her.

“Yes? What about my granddaughter?” Betty leaned forward. “Have you seen her today?”

“I realize it’s not really any of my business.”

“What isn’t your business?”

“Well, I did notice your granddaughter today. I was picking up the newspaper this morning, and I saw her.”

Betty nodded. “And?”

“And . . . I couldn’t help but notice she was with Jack.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I thought it was rather odd, Betty. I hadn’t imagined that they’d be friends.”

“Well, Avery has met Jack. And they actually had a nice little chat the other day. It seems he’s lonely, and it’s the holidays, and . . .” Betty didn’t know what else to say. And despite her reassuring words, her heart was beginning to pound.

“Oh. Well, it just caught my attention to see her with him. They were getting into his truck.”

“Jack’s pickup?” For some reason, this struck Betty as strange. It was one thing to visit with a neighbor, something else altogether to let them take you somewhere in their vehicle.

Katie nodded. “Yes. And . . . I don’t know how to say this, except to just spit it out in the open.”

“Say what?”

“Your granddaughter seemed, uh, a little upset.”

“Was Jack forcing her into his pickup?”

“I don’t think so. But something about the whole thing just struck me wrong—I felt worried.”

“Oh dear!” Betty’s hand flew to her mouth.

“I’m sorry, Betty. I had meant to mention it to you earlier, just to make sure everything was okay. But then things got hectic, and Martin offered to watch the girls so I could do some last-minute Christmas shopping, and by the time I got back, you were gone. I got busy wrapping presents, and I guess I just forgot.”