The Christmas Dog (3 page)

She went to look in her refrigerator, trying to determine what a hungry dog might eat. Finally, she decided on lunch meat. She peeled off several slices of processed turkey, then cautiously unlocked and opened the screen door just wide enough for her hand to slip out and toss the slices onto the porch. The dog was on them in seconds.

Betty went to her bedroom and took her time getting dressed, hoping that Jack’s mutt would be gone by the time she finished. Perhaps he would beg food from another neighbor. But when she went to check her porch, he was still there. So she went to the laundry room and found a piece of clothesline to use as a leash.

“I hope you’re friendly,” she said. She bent over, hoping to tie the cord to the mutt’s collar. But the dog had no collar. Instead he had a piece of string tied tightly around his neck. What kind of cruel gesture was that? She broke the dirty string and fashioned a looser sort of collar from the clothesline cord, looping it around his neck. To her relief, the mutt didn’t make it difficult, didn’t growl, didn’t pull away. He simply looked up at her with sad brown eyes.

She stepped down from the porch and said, “Come!” The dog obeyed, walking obediently beside her. “Well, at least Jack has taught you some obedience,” she said as she headed down the footpath to the sidewalk. “I’m taking you home now.” Then she turned and marched down the sidewalk toward Jack’s house. But now she wasn’t so sure. What if this
wasn’t
Jack’s dog?

“Hello, Betty,” Katie Gilmore called out. She stepped away from where the school bus had just picked up her twin girls. “How are you today?”

Betty smiled. “I’m fine, thank you.”

Katie frowned down at the dog, then lowered her voice. “Does that dog belong to, uh, Jack Jones?”

“That’s what I assume,” Betty said. “I saw him in Jack’s backyard yesterday.”

“Yes, I noticed him over there too.” Katie looked uneasy. “I hadn’t known Jack had a dog. I hope he’s friendly.”

“I’m sure there’s a lot we don’t know about Jack.” Betty forced a wry smile as she looked down at the dog. “But the dog seems to be friendly enough.”

Katie frowned at the animal. “Poor thing.”

Betty suspected Katie meant “poor thing” in relation to having Jack Jones as an owner. Everyone knew that Katie’s husband, Martin, had experienced a bit of go-around with Jack last summer. Quiet Martin Gilmore had walked over and politely asked Jack to turn down his music one day. But according to Penny Horton, who’d been home at the time, Martin had been answered with a raised power tool and some rough language.

“Are you taking the dog to Jack’s house?” Katie glanced over her shoulder toward the shabby-looking house.

“Yes. And I intend to give him a piece of my mind too.”

Katie’s brows arched. “Oh . . .” Then she reached in her coat pocket and pulled out a cell phone. “Want me to stick around, just in case?”

Betty wanted to dismiss Katie’s offer as unnecessary, but then reconsidered. “I suppose that’s not a bad idea.”

“He can be a little unpredictable,” Katie said quietly. “That’s the main reason I’ve been making sure the girls get safely on and off the school bus these days.”

Betty nodded. “I see.”

“I’ll just wait here,” Katie said. “I’ll keep an eye on you while you return the dog.” She shook her head. “It looks neglected . . . and like it needs a bath.”

Betty thought that wasn’t the only thing the dog needed, and she intended to say as much to Jack Jones. Naturally, she would control her temper, but she would also let him know that organizations like the Humane Society or ASPCA would not be the least bit impressed with Jack’s dog-owner skills.

When she got to Jack’s house and knocked on the door, no one answered. However, his pickup was still parked in the front yard, so she suspected he was home and knocked again, louder this time. But still no answer. Finally, she didn’t know what to do, so she simply tied the makeshift leash to a rickety-looking porch railing and left.

“He didn’t answer the door?” Katie asked when Betty rejoined her.

“No.” Betty turned and scowled at Jack’s house. “I’ve a mind to call the Humane Society.”

“It seems cruel to leave the dog tied to the porch,” Katie said.

Betty shrugged. “I don’t know what else to do.”

“Well, I can see Jack’s porch from my house. I’ll keep an eye on the dog, and if Jack doesn’t come out and let the dog inside or care for it, I’ll give you a call.”

Betty wanted to protest this idea. After all, why should that dog be her concern or responsibility? But she knew that would sound heartless and mean, so she just thanked Katie.

“Martin and I just don’t know what to do about him,” Katie said as she walked Betty back to her house. “I’ll admit we didn’t get off on the best foot with him, but we’ve tried to be friendly since then, and he just shuts us down.”

“I know,” Betty said. “He shuts everyone down.”

“Now Martin is talking about moving. He’s worried about the girls. He even did one of those police checks on Jack—you know, where you go online to see if the person has a record for being a sexual predator.”

Betty’s eyes opened wide. “Did he discover anything?”

“No.” Katie looked dismal. “But now Martin is worried that Jack Jones might not be his real name.”

Betty nodded. “The thought crossed my mind too.”

“So what do you do about something like this?” Katie’s tone was desperate now. “Do you simply allow some nutcase to ruin your neighborhood and drive you out of your home? Do you just give in?”

Betty sighed as she paused in front of her house. “I don’t know what to tell you, Katie. I wish I did. And even though I’ve lived in this neighborhood for nearly forty years, I really don’t have any answers. The truth is, I’m considering moving myself.”

Katie shook her head. “That’s just not fair.”

“Well, I’m getting old.” Betty forced a weak smile. “My house and yard are a lot of work for me, and the winters are long. Really, it might be for the best.”

“Maybe so. But I have to say that Jack Jones has put a real damper on the holidays for me. The girls’ last day of school is Wednesday, and I told Martin that I’m thinking about taking them to my mother’s for all of winter break. Martin wasn’t happy about that. He still has to work and isn’t looking forward to coming home to an empty house while we’re gone. But I told him that I didn’t look forward to two weeks of being home with the girls with someone like Jack next door.”

“That’s too bad.”

“I’ll say. It’s too bad that we don’t feel safe or comfortable in our home.”

Betty just shook her head. What was this neighborhood coming to?

“Anyway, I’ll let you know how it goes with that poor dog,” Katie said. And then they said good-bye and went their separate ways.

Once inside her house, Betty decided to call her daughter. Susan had always been sensible, not to mention a strong Christian woman. Plus she was a family counselor with a practice in her home. Surely she would have some words of wisdom to share. Some sage advice for her poor old mother. Betty planned to explain the situation in a calm and controlled manner, but once they got past the perfunctory greetings, Betty simply blurted out her plan to sell her home as soon as possible.

“When did you think you’d list it?” Susan sounded a little concerned.

“I’d like to put up a sign right now. But it probably makes more sense to wait until after the New Year.”

“So . . . in January?”

“Yes. I didn’t think anyone would want to buy a house right before Christmas.”

“But you’re coming here in January.”

“Yes, I know. I’ll put my house up for sale and leave.”

“But the market is so low right now, Mom.”

“I don’t care.”

“And I’ll bet you haven’t fixed anything up, have you?”

“I’ll sell it as is.”

“Yes . . . you could do that.”

But Betty could hear the doubtful tone in Susan’s voice growing stronger. “You think it’s a bad idea, don’t you?”

“I don’t think it’s a bad idea to sell your house. But I suppose I’m just questioning your timing. January isn’t a good time to sell a house. The market is low right now. And I know you have some deferred maintenance issues to deal with and—”

“You think I should wait?”

“I think waiting until summer would be smarter.”

“Oh.”

“Why are you in this sudden rush, Mom?”

Betty felt silly now. To admit that it was her rude neighbor sounded so childish. And yet it was the truth. So she spilled the whole story, clear down to the scratch on her car, the broken tea mug, and the dirty dog.

Susan actually laughed.

“It is
not
funny.”

“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sure it’s not funny to you. But hearing you tell it, well . . .” She chortled again. “It is kind of humorous.”

“Humph.”

“What kind of a dog was it?”

“What
kind
of a dog?” Betty frowned. “Good grief, how would I know? It was a mutt, a mongrel, a filthy dog that I would never allow inside my house. I can only imagine what Jack Jones’s house must look like inside. It’s a dump site outside. Did you know that there is a pink toilet in his backyard right this moment?” Betty went on to tell her daughter that Katie Gilmore was considering evacuating for Christmas and that Martin had actually done a criminal check on Jack.

“Oh dear,” Susan said. “Do you think he’s dangerous?”

“I don’t know about that, but I do know he’s very rude and inconsiderate and strange. I can only imagine what he’s doing to the Spencer house. For all I know, he might even be a squatter or an escapee from the nut hatch, hiding out until the men in white coats show up to cart him away.”

“Seriously?”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

“Have you even given him a chance, Mom? Maybe he’s just lonely.”

“Of course he’s lonely. He pushes everyone away from him.”

“But it sounds as if everyone is being confrontational.”

“He invites confrontation!”

“Have you tried being kind to him?”

Betty didn’t answer.

“I remember how we used to take cookies to our neighbors . . .”

Betty laughed now, but it was edged with bitterness. “I do not think Jack Jones would appreciate cookies, Susan. You don’t understand the situation at all.”

“Maybe not. But I do remember that my mother once told me that kindness builds bridges.”

“All I want to build is a tall brick wall between Jack’s house and mine.” Betty mentioned the falling-down fence and disputed property line.

“See, that’s just one more reason why it’s not time to sell right now, Mom. You need to resolve those issues first.”

“Maybe so.”

Then Susan changed the subject by talking about the grandsons. Seth was still on a church missions trip, where they were putting in wells and septic systems in Africa.

“He just loves what he’s doing there,” Susan said, “and he loves the people. In fact, he’s extended his stay until March now.”

“And what about Marcus?” Betty asked. “How’s school?”

“School is going fine. I think this is finals week. And, oh yeah, he has a girlfriend.”

“A girlfriend? Have you met her?”

“No. But it sounds like he may be going to her house for Christmas.”

“So you and Tim will be alone for Christmas?” Betty had booked her flight to Florida months ago, but now she considered changing the dates so that she could be with her daughter during the holidays too. Why hadn’t she thought of that sooner? Oh yes, she remembered—her commitment to help with the Deerwood anniversary party just days before Christmas.

“Not exactly alone . . .” Susan explained how Tim had put together a plan to share the expenses of a small yacht with some other couples while they toured the Florida Keys together during the holidays.

“That sounds like fun.” Betty frowned out the back window. Jack’s dog was in her backyard again!

“I wasn’t sure at first, but I’m getting excited now.”

“Well, I’m excited too,” Betty said in an angry voice. “That mongrel dog has sneaked into my backyard again!” The mutt was making a doggy deposit right next to her beloved dogwood tree! Did the mongrel think that because it was a
dog
wood tree, it was open season for dogs? “That horrible animal! I think I’ll take a broom to him.”

“Oh, Mom!” Susan sounded disappointed. “That’s so mean. You’ve never been mean like that before.”

“Are you suggesting it’s not mean for Jack to force me to clean up after his dog? To remove nasty dog piles from my own backyard?”

“That’s not the dog’s fault, Mom. You said yourself that the fence is falling apart. What do you expect?”

“I expect the owner to take some responsibility for his animal. Maybe I should go throw something at the nasty dog.”

“What happened to the sweet Christian woman I used to know?” Susan asked.

“Jack Jones is making her lose her mind.”

“Oh, Mother, you can do better than that. Remember what you used to tell me when I was young and I’d get so angry that I’d feel like killing someone?”

“What?” Betty felt a headache coming on.

“You’d say, ‘Why don’t you kill them with kindness, Susan?’”

Betty rubbed her forehead as she remembered her own words.

“So, why don’t you do that now, Mom? Why don’t you kill Jack Jones with kindness?”

“And his little dog too?”

“Yes. And his little dog too.”

Betty promised her daughter that she’d consider the challenge, and she was just about to say good-bye when Susan said quickly, “Hey, I almost forgot to tell you.”

“What’s that?”

“Have you heard from Gary lately?”

Suddenly Betty felt worried. She could tell by Susan’s voice that something was wrong. Surely no harm had come to her son. “No . . . I haven’t spoken to him since Thanksgiving. Is everything okay?”

“Well, I wasn’t supposed to say anything to you . . .”

“Anything about what?” Betty was really concerned now.

“It’s Avery.”

“Oh.” Avery was Gary’s stepdaughter. She was in her mid-twenties and still acted like an adolescent. “What’s happened with Avery?”

“She’s gone missing.”

“Missing?”

“Gary called awhile back and told me they haven’t heard from her since October.”