Together Again: Spirit Travel Novel - Book #4 (Romance & Humor - The Vicarage Bench Series) (6 page)

“You are so right, Mrs. Dorn. Forgive me for foisting this situation onto your most efficient, accommodating shoulders—”

“‘Ere now, none of that nonsense. I’ve done for you for twenty years, and helped you out of many a pickle, but this time, sir, you’re out of order. And if you don’t soon fix things, I’ll be one of your dotty patients meself!”

“Confound it, Mrs. Dorn! My older sister might be a tiny bit overpowering, and for that I’m sorry, but that woman can differentiate between me telling her the truth or not, even over a telephone. I swear there’s an inbuilt lie detector located on the frontal lobe of her shrewd brain.”

Mrs. Dorn’s chubby arms unwound slowly from in front of her considerable chest, and her stance became less stiff. The intractability in her attitude slowly faded. Seeing this, the doctor continued.

“Bear in mind the time I felt wretched over the Pringle suicide, and Marion invited me for dinner? I refused to go—it’s true. But I distinctly recall telling her I was a mite tired after working with some specialists from out of London. Admittedly, I might have sounded a wee bit down, but considering the circumstances, those reactions were not unexpected. I was ever so careful not to let on about my mood, or to say anything that would lead her to even suspect a slight case of depression. She arrived an hour later with her suitcase and promptly informed us she was here to make sure I took some time off from work. Do you remember, Mrs. Dorn?”

She nodded, her attitude undergoing a slight change, but she didn’t speak.

“Three unbearable days she disrupted our lives. Three of the longest days in memory.” The doctor’s voice rose perceptibly as the tale continued, and his eyes enlarged to the point of seeming to fill the round wires of his spectacles.

“Oh, Doctor, ‘ere now. She behaved quite well, even going as far as to stock up on your favourite Bury Black Puddin’s. She carried tea trays to you every hour, checked in on you to be sure you weren’t working, had your secretary reschedule all your appointments—all to give you a long-overdue break.”

“Yes, and made a mess in your kitchen, changed over all your cupboards, forced me to give said secretary, Doris, a raise to get her to come back to work, and saw to it that, to this very day, I hate any dish associated with pudding.”

“To be sure, she was only trying to help, but you can be right, sir. Your sister isn’t someone to take lightly. Aye, but look ‘ere, Doctor! Lying to her is not on me list of duties. What if we get Nurse Joye to talk with her, calm her fears?”

“Nurse Joye, the sweetest-tempered nurse at the hospital? She isn’t up to lying any more than I am. I’m afraid my sister would see through her stuttering explanations at once. If I promise to call Marion every morning with an update, would you be so kind, dear Mrs. Dorn—of course with a healthy recompense for your troubles—to continue attending to the annoying calls she insists on making?”

“Oh, piffle, I guess I can be persuaded. You’re a right charming bloke when you turn it on, Doctor. I don’t see how you’ve managed to remain a bachelor all these many years.”

“I’m a Swerver, Mrs. Dorn.” The twinkle returned to his eyes now that he’d gotten his way over the phone calls.

Mrs. Dorn swung around to go back into the kitchen. As she waddled away Dr. Andrews clearly heard her mutter, “I’d say you’re more like a jolly good Hider. And more often than not, I’m your flamin’ accomplice.”

Chapter Eight

Troy lounged against the trunk of a tree, waiting for the floppy-eared puppy, happily examining the grassy area, to finish his business. He’d bathed the mutt the night before and been pleasantly surprised to find the puppy’s light brown coat grew thick, with beautiful golden highlights and white patches around his neck and ears. One day his tail would be a full waving plume, as he most resembled a miniature border collie.

“What are you going to call your friend?” Dani’s voice sounded wistful.

“I won’t have him long enough to name him anything but a pain in the butt.”
He heard her reflex sigh.
“What?”

“I’ve always wanted a dog, but the parents wouldn’t have it. First they said our lives were too busy to look after one properly, which didn’t stop my yearning, and then my mother discovered she had rather convenient, ah, algerics.”

As the smile lit up his face, he felt her answering one inside.

“We always had animals when I grew up—my dad loved his dogs almost as much as us kids. And my mom was a cat person.”

“Kids? How many were there in your family?”

“Counting me, there were three boys, and two older sisters. Us boys drove the girls crazy. We snuck up on them with their dates, messed with their stuff, and stole their records. It’s a wonder they didn’t do away with us and hide the bodies.”

“You’re so lucky to come from a large family. I’m an only child. I can tell by the warmth you’re generating that you loved your life and your sisters.”

“Actually, my sister Deb, the closest to me, used to bail me out, when I was a little guy, by eating my potatoes. In those days I hated the things unless they came in the form of a french fry. I’d try coating them with ketchup, which would help a bit, but after a while my throat just clogged up, and I couldn’t do it. My dad hated food going to waste and refused to let me go out to play until I’d finished my plate. I’d sit there and pout, feeling very sorry for myself, and Deb would eventually come along and slap me on the back of the noggin for smothering them with ketchup, but she’d always gobble them down. To date, she’s still the one with the kindest heart. Deb loves dogs, and she and her husband recently bought a kennel. They raise poodles.”

“She’s so lucky. When I was seven, my uncle bought me a lovely little black poodle. I begged for a pet every Christmas and every birthday until finally he broke down. According to the veterinarians, poodles don’t have the same kind of fur as other dogs, and so we didn’t need to concern ourselves with mother’s medical problems. I called my poodle Curly.”

“Curl—y! No surprise there.”
A grin slowly spread. He could feel it starting at one corner of his lips, and he finally had to give in and let it all emerge. He lowered his eyes. Walking along, forcing the furry wigglepuss down under his chin while the animal was determined to wash his face, Troy bit down on his bottom lip to realign his mug and stop himself from looking like some happy idiot.
“Did your mom let you keep her?”

“Yes, she did, but only because her younger brother bought him for me. Uncle Robert is a psychiatrist, also a bachelor, and she dotes on him. I loved that poodle so much…”

“What happened?”
He sensed the bad news coming. Her sorrow spread inside, starting with quivers and ending in a tightening of his stomach.

“She became sick. One day after school, while I was playing ball with her, she started foaming at the mouth. I called my uncle in a panic, but nothing helped. She had to be put down. Her sickness came on in a matter of hours. My uncle said it was just one of those flukes that happen to small animals sometimes. We were together for only a few short months, but my heart broke, and it took weeks for me to get over her death. My uncle offered to get me another, but this time my mother stayed adamant. No more pets!”

“What is it, kid? Whenever you speak of your mother, I sense you morphing from happy-go-lucky to sighing furtively. Don’t you get along with her?”

“No one gets along with her. We just get out of her way. Don’t misunderstand me. She’s a wonderfully loving lady whose demeanour resembles that of a—a Sherman tank. It’s easier to give in to her than argue.”

“Pretty hard to be your own person when you let another have so much power over your decisions. But then again you’re only sixteen, so—”

“Almost seventeen!”

“Right! You’re almost an old lady, so I guess your time to take over will come soon enough.”

“Sooner than you think!”

“Don’t be in too big a hurry, Dani. Enjoy being young while you can. Responsibilities aren’t all that much fun. Look, since you missed out, I hereby bequeath this monster to you. Consequently, it’s your duty to give him his name, but with one restriction. No respectable male wants a name with an ‘ie’ ending.”

His teasing did the trick. Her essence filled him inside with such a joyful radiance he wondered if others noticed the glow.

“I’ll think on it and let you know. Something as important as a name shouldn’t be taken too lightly.”

“You do that. In the meantime, purchasing a new shirt and jeans are next on my agenda. I can’t be walking around in these same clothes much longer. Do you know of a men’s store in town where the prices aren’t too high? I’m not all that flush right now.”

It got to him, knowing he had a whopping big bank account back home and no way to get at the funds unless he worked his way through a lot of red tape. Those things took time, time he didn’t have. He’d be damned if he’d ever travel without his check book again.

“I have money. I’ll write you a cheque. We can get a blank form at the bank.”

“You would do that for me? No hesitation, no questions
?” Not that he could take her up on it.

“Of course! We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“More like roommates, I’d say.”

She giggled. “We’ll call it my rent payment.”

His loud laugh distracted the lady passing by and earned him a lovely smile in return.
“The people around here are friendly. Not like Chicago, where the locals are so busy rushing around they have no time to pay attention to anyone else.”

“Noticing the friendliness of the locals doesn’t seem to be the norm for blokes, especially older ones. You’re a people watcher.”

“I’m very observant. I have to be, in my profession. And cut out the ‘old men’ comments, I’m only twenty-nine. Besides, how many men my age do you know? You must spend most of your time with boys.”

“True, unfortunately. But I really do prefer adults, and I think I’d like your big city. One day I’ll go and see Chicago for myself.”

“Chicago’s great. I miss the goings on.”

“Goings on?”

“Yeah, you know. In the big city something’s always going on. I’ll be back there as soon as I get my story, and once you leave me and return to where you came from.”

Just the thought of being alone again brought an extra swing to his steps. Daydreaming of working at the
Chicago Sun-Times
, he imagined his future office. There would be an outside window, a beat-up overflowing desk, and glazed glass in the top part of his door with his name in gold letters—Troy Brennan, Editor.

The jiggling body in his arms restored his awareness to the surroundings, and the anxious whining had him lowering the pup to some nearby grass immediately. Good thing he’d acted quickly!

While he waited, Troy glanced around him.

“Dani? How about this department store? Do they have inexpensive menswear?”

No answer. His heart skipped a beat.

“Dani? Come out, wherever you are?”

“How the devil should I know? I’ve never bought men’s clothes.”
Her grumpiness jolted him. Up till now, he’d taken her cheeriness for granted.

What was up with his trespasser? Shaking off his thoughts, he asked a small boy sitting on the curb close by to watch the pup for a few minutes while he made his way inside.

The general store, filled with clothes for younger men, proved to be exactly what Troy wanted. He grabbed a pair of stylish bell-bottomed jeans and a black T-shirt from the overflowing racks and made his way towards one of the changing rooms. As soon as he opened the curtain and saw the mirrored wall he stopped.

“Hold it! Are you still there?”
His voice warned of his seriousness. It was a rougher, no-nonsense tone—one she recognized from when he’d used it on the bullying blokes yesterday.

“Uh-huh! Where else would I be?”

“Don’t be cheeky! You can see right now, can’t you?”

“Of course I can. I see out of your eyes, don’t I?”

“Right! Fine.”
He closed his eyes, continued into the change room, and stumbled when he stubbed his toe on the wooden chair.

“What in the world are you doing?”

“You’re only sixteen. You shouldn’t be seeing a man undress.”
He hadn’t had to worry about her spying in his room, for there wasn’t a full-length mirror. He’d taken care never to look at anything she shouldn’t be seeing. Not an easy task but doable.

“Number one. Just ‘will’ me to leave and you’ll feel me shut down, because I’ll respect your privacy. And number two, yours wouldn’t be the first male body I’ve seen anyway.”

“Number one, how about just shutting up instead of shutting down. And number two, what the hel—heck do you mean by not the first male—No, wait. I don’t want to know.”

“At least let me see you after you’re dressed. It’s very difficult carrying on conversations with someone you can only see from the inside.”

“What does it matter?”

“What if I told you I have a crush on you and I want to see what you look like, especially in your knickers?”

The tight jeans were only halfway up. Vertigo and embarrassment collided, engulfing him at the same time. His knee bashed against the chair and his forehead hit the wall. Muffled swear words and babbles that made no sense, except that the surly meanings were explicit, rang out before he spoke to her again.
“Stop that!”
He sounded angry.

“Stop what?”

Was she giggling?
“Stop saying things like that. You don’t have a crush on me. You don’t even know me.”

“I know you’re extremely kind, that you care about small children and animals, take on burdens even when you don’t want to, and—and you’re ambitious. You have a wonderful, warm chuckle, and—”

“Enough! For God’s sake, my head will swell. Look, sweetie, you’re sixteen—”

“Almost seventeen.”

“And I’m almost thirty. Besides, you should be with a nice guy your own age.”

“I already have.”

“What?”
Troy’s eyes popped open—wide, very wide.

****

“Ohh! You’re a smasher, you are.”

He stared into the mirror as if he could see into the soul hidden inside him. The ferocious look on his face warned her not to say another word. Instead she silently continued to view his features. His piercing, multifaceted eyes, brown and green, gold and gorgeous, were daunting. In the light from the naked bulb hanging above, his auburn hair gleamed. It was cut quite short on the sides but grew longer and thicker in the front, where he flipped the waves towards the back.