Silver Bells. Mary Burton
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what I’m doing. Don’t even think about stealing this dog from me. Just try calling him. I betcha five bucks he will ignore you.”
Hank felt befuddled. That was a sucker bet if he ever heard one. Who was this person? She had yet to turn around, and she was bundled up like Nanook of the North.
His toe throbbing like a bongo drum, Hank whistled for the dog. Churchill ignored him. He called him by name. Churchill ignored him. He called out, “Good boy, come on now, I’ll give you a treat.” Churchill plopped down and put his head between his paws.
“I’ll take that five dollars now.”
It was like a lightbulb went off in Hank’s head. “I know who you are. You’re that know-it-all who brought Churchill back last night when I was giving the twins a bath.”
Amy banged in another nail with the same deadly precision. “Wow! You figured it out. Guess you have a brain after all. He’s mine, and he’s staying with me.”
“You’re trespassing, you know. The old guy just passed, and you’re hanging Christmas lights on his house. That makes you some kind of ghoul in my opinion. I wonder what the cops will do if I call them. I want my damn dog, and I want him now.”
“Why don’t you try taking him and see how far you get.” The hammer swung again. The sound was so loud, Hank winced. “Go ahead, call the police. I’m just being a good neighbor. I know for a fact that Mr. Carpenter always had Christmas lights. In his later years he probably had someone do it for him. And just for the record, these are my lights. I didn’t steal them, nor did I break into Mr. Carpenter’s house in case that’s the next thing you’re going to say. Furthermore, you…you…buffoon, don’t you think it’s a little strange that a woman is doing this when someone of your…ilk should be doing it? Go bother somebody else. I’m busy.”
Buffoon. Someone of my ilk. What the hell did that mean? His toe was throbbing so bad he wanted to bang it on the porch railing. Anger at his circumstances rippled through him. “Listen to me, you…you dog snatcher, I want my dog, and I want him now. He’s a boy dog. Why’d you put that stupid red ribbon with a bell on him?”
The voice that retaliated was syrupy sweet. “It’s like this, you clown. The bell lets me know where he is. This is the Christmas season, and red goes with the silver bell. For the last time, I did not snatch your dog. He came to me. He doesn’t even like you. I can tell. Look at him, he’s petrified of you. That’s pretty bad when a dog doesn’t like his owner. Did you abuse this poor animal?”
Outrage rivered through Hank at the accusation. Hank bent over to peer at the golden dog, who growled. “I would never harm an animal. I might have been a little sharp with him when he deliberately lifted his leg on a chair. He pees a flood. It took two towels to clean it up. He jumps the fence. I didn’t know he could do that until this morning.”
The voice was still syrupy sweet. “And I suppose you think I’m going to believe that…that ridiculous story. Let’s get real here.”
Hank was at his wit’s end. His toe was killing him. “Are you always this nasty so early in the morning, or were you born this way?”
Four things happened at that precise moment before Amy could respond. Mason opened the front door to get the newspaper, Miss Sadie beelined out the door and ran at the speed of light to the Carpenter front porch, at which point Churchill leaped up to greet his new best friend and toppled the ladder. The know-it-all slipped and fell.
“Oh, shit!”
“Oh, shit, is right,” Nanook of the North said as she rolled over in her down coat to survey the damage. Somehow or other the two dogs were now tangled in the string of Christmas lights that were twinkling off and on.
Churchill growled, his ears going flat against his head, a sure sign that he was perturbed at something.
Hank took that moment to stare at the woman on the floor, who was laughing hysterically. So this is what she looks like. Something teased at his memory then, something he couldn’t put his finger on. She was so pretty it took his breath away. And she had the nicest laugh he’d ever heard in his life. He knew that laugh. Or he remembered it from somewhere. The question was where? “Do I know you?”
Amy was on her feet when she looked up at her old childhood friend. “I don’t know, do you?” She bent down then to try to untangle the string of lights the dogs were bent on chewing.
Hank wondered if a buffoon-slash-clown would do what he was doing, which was holding out his hand. “Hank Anders. I’m visiting next door for the holidays.”
Amy stopped what she was doing, stood up straight, and looked him dead in the eye, hoping she wasn’t giving away the delicious feeling coursing through her. “Mandy Leigh. It’s been a long time, Hank.” She crushed his hand in hers and saw that he tried not to wince.
“Mandy! It is you! Well, damn! In my wildest dreams I never thought we’d meet up again. You broke my heart when you moved away. I wanted to write you a hundred times, but no one knew where your aunt took you. California, we all thought.”
“That’s right, California,” Amy said. “I’ve lived there ever since.”
“Mom said your aunt Flo was a world traveler. We just assumed…no one ever came back. I thought the house was sold. Hell, I don’t know what I thought. Look, I’m sorry about…about calling you names. This…it’s a long sad story. Can we go for coffee or something? God, you’re beautiful! You look just like I remember.”
Amy laughed. “Is this where I’m supposed to say you’re handsome?”
“Wouldn’t hurt. Mom always said I was good-looking. So, can we do the coffee? I’ll help you with the lights when we get back.”
“Why not?” Why not indeed. Oh, be still my heart, Amy said to herself as she tidied up the porch, then replied, “Let’s go to my house. I can make coffee, and I have some sticky buns. The kind Mom used to make when we were little.”
As they walked toward the Leigh house, a light snow started to fall to the dogs’ delight.
“Then you aren’t mad at me?”
“Nah. I was just venting. I’ve been upset about Mr. Carpenter’s passing. He was so good to us kids growing up. It’s always especially sad when a person dies during the Christmas season. That’s why I wanted to string up the lights. He used to love Christmas. Remember how we always made him a present?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I remember,” Hank said softly. “I remember everything about that time. You really did break my heart, you know. By the way, Miss Sadie, the little fur ball, belonged to Mr. Carpenter. Ben gave the dog to him after his wife died. Churchill is Ben’s dog. You’re probably right about him not liking me. I was more or less thrust on him out of the blue. I might remind him of Ben. By the way, Ben is in Iraq.”
“Sounds like you and I have a lot of catching up to do,” Amy said, opening the front door of her house. And he has no clue that I’m a movie star. How wonderful was that? Pretty damn wonderful, she decided.
Chapter Five
Amy felt like she was walking on legs of Jell-O as she shed her outerwear on the way to the kitchen. Hank wasn’t married. He was right behind her. In her very own kitchen. And he looked every bit as good as she dreamed. He was here. She was going to make him coffee and sticky buns. How good could life get? But the absolute best was, he had no clue that she was a movie star. A mighty sigh escaped her. She whirled around, not realizing how close he was. They literally butted shoulders. She looked into dark brown eyes that she remembered so well. She could smell minty toothpaste. In a liquid flash she could see something in his eyes, the same thing she was feeling. He blinked. She blinked, then Churchill broke the moment by jumping between them. Flustered, Amy backed away, and Hank sat down on one of the old wooden kitchen chairs.
The exquisite moment was gone. Hopefully it would return at some point.
Amy