Holiday Homecoming. Pamela Tracy
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pry, but her curiosity got the better of her. “Who was that on the phone?”
For a moment, she thought Grandpa wasn’t going to answer, but then he said, “The sheriff. Someone turned in a wallet. My number was written on a piece of paper inside.”
“Who’d you give your number to?”
“Nobody I remember.”
She let him watch television while she cared for the chickens. It wasn’t all that different from taking care of Crisco the bear or Ollie the orangutan. She fed, watered and cleaned their bedding. The only thing she did that she couldn’t do with Ollie or Crisco was gather eggs. The five chickens ignored her, not even appreciating the fact that she was making sure they had plenty of shavings.
After doing a few more odds and ends, she took an hour, put on clean clothes and woke Grandpa up.
“I wasn’t sleeping,” he insisted.
“Maybe not,” Meredith appeased, “but you do need to get up and out, eat something besides cookies and make the family happy.”
“I always make the family happy.”
“Not true.”
“You’re one to talk,” he grumped.
“I’m the one most like you.”
That earned a smile and got him out the door, into her car and agreeable.
About halfway to town, he asked, “So, why were you in Gesippi last night? And why are you the one driving me around today?”
It took Meredith a good three blocks to answer. She didn’t want to give him room to argue. “I’m here to stay with you during the week. Zack will stay with you on weekends.”
“Because I fell! That’s silly. I fall all the time.”
“Yes, Grandpa. You fall all the time. And we want to be there to make sure you always stand up. What if I hadn’t shown up last night and realized you were missing? Would you have eventually gotten up? Or would you have spent the night out in the cold? And maybe still be there now?”
“It’s December in Arizona. Doesn’t get really cold.”
“You didn’t use to lie,” she accused.
“And you used to listen.”
“I’m staying.”
“No, you—” he started to protest.
“I’m staying because I love you.”
“And because I love you, I want you to go on with your life.”
“You are my life.”
He didn’t respond; he stared out the window as tears pooled in his eyes. She didn’t know if he were happy because he was loved or miserable because he needed to rely on other. What she wished was that he’d reach over and pat her knee, give her some sign that he appreciated what she was doing and recognized the need.
Gesippi hadn’t changed much in the ten years since Meredith had stopped calling it home. Sure, she’d been back a time or two. But she’d mastered sneaking into town for a few hours and then hightailing it back to Scorpion Ridge. Today her trip into town would take much longer.
Downtown Gesippi was three long blocks. Tyler’s Antique store was the biggest. Old-time Christmas decorations graced its window. A combination drugstore and restaurant was next to it. Someone was out front ringing a bell hoping for donations. A Native American trading post, the Crooked Feather, had opened when Meredith entered high school. It had a wooden plaque in the front window advertising Victor Lucas as proprietor. He’d obviously not found a moment to decorate for the season. His daughter, Kristi Lucas, had been in Meredith’s grade but had dropped out of high school. A tiny movie theater, which played movies months after their release, offered a film Meredith had meant to see. Already a giant Christmas tree was in the tiny park by the school. A big sign notified the public that Santa would be visiting on Christmas Eve.
“You want anything from the drugstore?” Meredith asked.
“Cookies.”
She laughed. “Anything besides cookies.”
She parked in front of the drugstore and hurried around to help Grandpa out. The wind added a bit of red to his cheeks. Impulsively she reached up to pat one. He caught her hand with his and smiled.
“I’m glad you’re here, Merry.”
She’d not been called that in years.
Unfortunately, he added, “But you needn’t put your life on hold to take care of me.”
She didn’t bother to respond as she followed him into the Drug and Dine.
“Hey, Ray.”
“Keith, good to see you. Thought we’d stop and get something to eat.” Grandpa didn’t mention that Meredith had had to nudge him out the door to get here. “Not that I’m hungry. The granddaughter, here, thinks I should eat more.”
Keith, wearing a Santa hat, came around the counter. “I heard you had an adventure last evening. So, Meredith, you say we have a wild wolf dog running loose?” He led them to a table and held Grandpa’s chair out. Once Grandpa settled, Keith handed them menus and asked, “Is this something we should call the county sheriff about? Could someone get hurt?”
“The wolf dog was more interested in playing with Grandpa than eating him,” Meredith said. “The odds of someone getting hurt are slim.”
“Jimmy Murphy’s sure taken an interest in what happened last night. He came in this morning and wanted to know if anyone had dropped off any Have You Seen This Dog posters.”
“What for?” Why was Jimmy asking questions? He’d not even been overly concerned about the too-tight collar.
“He said something about recognizing a good story when one dropped in his lap.”
Now Meredith knew exactly what she’d say to Jimmy if he ever challenged her commitment to Bridget’s Animal Adventure. She might be working with animals that would be happier in their natural habitat, but to her they were more than stories.
“What did you tell him? Has anyone been looking for a lost dog?”
“I sent him over to the library. If anyone had been asking around, Agatha Fitzsimmons would have heard about it.”
“The library’s still open?”
“Every day but Sunday from ten to three. What’ll you have?”
Meredith ordered while Grandpa said, “The usual,” before shuffling off to the bathroom, looking as if he could topple at any minute. Keith stayed close behind.
Looking around the Drug and Dine, Meredith noted that not much had changed. Keith stocked a little bit of dry goods and a whole lot of tourist paraphernalia. The only things completely new were all the cell-phone displays.
She wondered how much the Gesippi library had changed. It was housed in three rooms under the courthouse. It had half windows that started at the ceiling and that teased with just a little natural light. But Agatha Fitzsimmons, who’d once managed a library in Washington, D.C., had made it something special. During her teens, Meredith had spent a lot of time perusing the young-adult section. Agatha had also made sure a good number of animal books were on hand for a questing Meredith.
Agatha had to be about the same age as Grandpa, if not older.
Unfortunately, while Meredith had been a favorite hometown girl, Jimmy had been a favorite hometown boy. Agatha, who’d not had any children of her own, had attended the high school’s Friday-night football games just to cheer for Jimmy.
When Jimmy left and Meredith came in to show off her engagement ring from Danny, Agatha had called her a stupid girl.
That was the last time Meredith