The Dogs of Christmas Read online

  “You a hiker?” Josh guessed.

  “Yep,” the man replied, his focus on his new puppy. “This little guy and I are going to hit the trails as soon as he’s old enough.”

  Josh glanced probingly at Kerri. She gave a tiny shrug. “Bye, Oliver,” Josh murmured as he handed him over, the small Christmas bulb jiggling Oliver’s collar.

  “He’s retired and his wife just died of cancer,” Kerri volunteered as the man drove off.

  Josh looked at her.

  “Oliver’s new daddy,” she explained. “He’ll love him and they’ll be the centers of each other’s worlds.”

  “You’re pretty good at this. Finding the right people, I mean. A shop-a-holic for Sophie and an explorer for Oliver.”

  “Right, lots of practice, I guess.”

  He nodded and glanced at the front window of the house and there was little Rufus, the last puppy, watching them. Josh pressed his lips together. The poor little guy, all alone.

  “Josh,” Kerri whispered. She half-started toward him, then stopped herself, remembering that she had written him off. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah.” Josh reached down and stroked Lucy’s head. She was gazing into his eyes with what he thought looked like sympathy. The mommy dog seemed oddly untroubled by the day’s departures. Wasn’t she grieving the loss of her children? Was Josh the only one who cared?

  “I can’t get a signal,” Kerri complained, frowning at her cell phone.

  “That’s what happens up here. There’s a place in the back where you can sometimes get reception if you want. I can show you.”

  “Could I just use your landline instead? I want to see if I can reach the people who are coming for Rufus.”

  “Sure. Come on, Lucy.”

  When they opened the front door Rufus was right there, jumping up and licking his mommy’s mouth. Lucy put up with about ten seconds of it and then turned away.

  “Hey, Rufus,” Josh called, picking the little dog up. The puppy stared at him, his gaze feeling like an accusation. “Not too much longer and you get to go, too.”

  “I didn’t get an answer,” Kerri advised, coming back. “No voice mail, either. I thought everyone had voice mail.”

  Josh put Rufus down on the floor and the little guy headed back to the bedroom where the box lived. “He’s wondering where his family is,” Josh murmured. He knew what it was like, how loudly the silence of those empty rooms could ring upon the ears.

  Suddenly Lucy’s head whipped around. With a small whine, she clicked over to the window, her ears stiff.

  “What is it, Lucy?” Kerri asked. Josh didn’t tell her, but he knew what it was.

  A Jeep stopped in the driveway next to Kerri’s car and Lucy went to the door and scratched at the jamb, putting her nose to the crack at the bottom of the door and inhaling with a deep, shuddering sniff, whining and barking with little distressed-sounding yips. Josh went to the door and opened it and Lucy rocketed out and ran across the yard and virtually tackled the woman with long black hair who stood next to her car.

  “Luce! Luce!” the woman shouted, tears in her eyes.

  Lucy was crying, sobbing, her stomach to the ground, her tail thrashing, rolling on her back and then jumping to her feet, kissing the woman’s face, so overjoyed it was manic in her, unrestrainable. “Lucy, my Lucy dog.” Serena wept, falling to her knees and hugging her dog.

  Kerri came up next to Josh on the front deck and stood with her hand to her mouth. “My God,” she breathed.

  Josh had never seen anything like it—Lucy’s elation, her ecstasy, was the absolute embodiment of pure happiness.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Kerri asked.

  Josh shrugged. “I didn’t want you to think I was doing it for you. I’m doing it for Lucy.”

  Kerri was silent for a long moment. “It’s what Lucy wants,” she finally stated softly. Josh shrugged, shutting the front door behind them to keep the heat in the house. They walked down the steps together.

  “Okay, okay, Luce,” Serena protested, laughing. As she stood up, Lucy jumped up, trying to kiss her face. “Down, silly. Stay down now.” Lucy tried to sit but her tail was wagging too hard. She licked Serena’s hand as if it held bacon.

  “Josh?” Serena asked.

  “Yeah. This is Kerri from the animal shelter.”

  Serena had beautiful eyes and caramel skin. She swept her thick hair away from her face as she shook hands with Josh and Kerri.

  “My flight was late. Of course. I drove straight here. I just, I can’t thank you enough for taking care of my Lucy dog.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I mean, if it hadn’t been for Lucy, the puppies wouldn’t have made it,” Josh told her.

  As he said her name, Lucy glanced over at him.

  “Animal shelter,” Serena repeated, looking at the clipboard in Kerri’s hand. “Is there something I have to do to get my dog back?”

  “Oh, no, no. It’s pretty obvious it’s your dog.”

  They all laughed and then, as the laughter died away an odd tension rose up between them. Josh knew what it was: Serena wanted to take Lucy and leave and Josh didn’t want her to go.

  “I suppose you want to get going,” Kerri encouraged. She could read Serena’s mind, too.

  “Oh, yeah, I have my sister and her kids coming over for a welcome home party,” Serena answered with a light laugh.

  “Could I have a minute to talk to Lucy?” Josh asked.

  No one thought it was at all strange. “Sure,” Serena agreed.

  Lucy, however, wouldn’t leave Serena’s side until Kerri got the idea to open the door to the Jeep. The dog happily bounded into the front seat, ready to go home with her person in the familiar car. Josh stood with the door open and put his arms around Lucy and she licked his ear.

  “You are such a good dog, Lucy,” he whispered. “You saved the puppies. You were a good mommy dog and they all are going to good homes because of you.” Josh gazed into her deep brown eyes and she seemed to understand what he was saying. “I’m going to miss you so much. I love you, Lucy. Good-bye. You are a good, good dog.” Josh stepped back, closing the door. Lucy held his eyes a long moment, and then shifted her gaze to Serena, who was still standing with Kerri. Josh took a long moment to compose himself before turning around, his lips pressed together in a trembling smile.

  “Can I pay you for…?” Serena asked.

  “Oh, no. Please,” Josh replied.

  “Okay then. Thank you again. Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas. Good-bye,” Kerri said.

  “Wait,” Josh said.

  TWENTY

  Kerri was watching Josh as if afraid of what he was going to say next. Josh turned to look at Lucy, watching them patiently from the front seat of the car, and then looked back to Serena.

  “Yes?” Serena asked, sensing something.

  “It’s just that you said you travel sometimes, and I was thinking, maybe next time you go out of town, if you want, you could leave Lucy with me.” Josh shrugged.

  “Oh, yeah, of course,” Serena exclaimed. “That would be great.”

  “Great,” Kerri echoed, sounding relieved.

  It took Serena a full minute to get Lucy to quit licking her and trying to climb into her lap, and then the Jeep backed up and turned around. Josh saw Lucy watching him from the car window and, as they headed down the driveway, Josh lifted his hand and waved. “Bye, Lucy,” he whispered.

  He turned to Kerri and she stepped forward and put her arms around him and her head on his chest. “You are the man I thought you were,” she breathed, her voice muffled. “I am so, so glad.”

  They went into the house. “Rufus!” Josh called. He clapped his hands, whistled, and shouted the puppy’s name several times. Finally Rufus emerged from the back room, looking irritated at having been awakened. He came out to the living room, sniffing, glancing around.

  “They’re all gone, little guy. So sorry,” Josh informed him softly.

  Kerr
i was on the phone, checking her voice mail. She hung up and turned to Josh, an odd look in her eyes. “I have to go.”

  Josh’s shoulders slumped. “What? Why? I was sort of hoping…” Josh raised his hands, palms up, not sure he should articulate what he had been hoping.

  “We’re supposed to be closed but someone just showed up at the shelter with a dog, and Madelyn has to go home.”

  “What? It’s like, Christmas Eve eve, why didn’t you just tell the people to come back later?”

  “That’s not what we do, Josh. It’s fine.”

  “It’s fine that people just dump their dogs? So the dog is just suddenly abandoned by his family? At Christmas?”

  “No, of course not, that part’s not fine. I mean it’s fine that I go in to the shelter. Madelyn has kids; I don’t. It’s the holiday weekend.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “Right, but you need to stay here for when the people show up for Rufus.”

  Josh glanced over at the sleeping puppy. “If they show up.”

  “Sure. I don’t know what the story is on that.” Kerri shrugged.

  “You want to bring the new dog out here?”

  “Maybe.” Again, there was that odd expression in her eyes. What did that mean?

  “So, I mean … Look, I was hoping … are you coming back?”

  Kerri smiled at him. “Sure. Tomorrow, I’ll be out.”

  “Tomorrow,” Josh repeated, his voice full of disappointment.

  “Let me give you my cell phone number,” she told him. “So you can call me.”

  “Oh? You sure we’re ready for that?”

  She studied his face, then smiled. “He tells a joke,” she proclaimed.

  Rufus was unimpressed when Josh explained it might be the last time he would see Kerri, even when he picked up the snoozing puppy and held his tiny nose to Kerri’s cheek. “The people will be out to pick you up, Rufus. Say good-bye.”

  “He looks mostly just sleepy.” Kerri laughed.

  “Sorry about that.”

  “No, it’s fine. Really. Not every good-bye needs to be a big deal.”

  It felt to Josh as if Kerri were about to deliver another of her canned speeches, but she seemed to think better of it. She went outside and then, with a little wave from the front seat of her car, Kerri was gone.

  “She keeps leaving,” Josh told the puppy in his arms. “I have to figure out what to do differently so she’ll want to stay here.”

  Josh was tense the rest of the day, waiting for the people to show up for Rufus. The sun, blocked by a mountain to the northwest, left the sky early, and night settled down around Josh’s part of the hill without anyone pulling into his driveway.

  “Just great,” he muttered, irritated that he’d basically done nothing all afternoon but stress about something that didn’t happen.

  Rufus yawned and went to the door, so Josh let him out and he squatted in the yard, looking over his shoulder as if asking him to make note of the fact that he’d asked to be put outside to do his business. “I get it, you’re a genius dog,” Josh enthused.

  Rufus sniffed at the grass a little, maybe smelling the scents of the rest of his family, and then trotted back over to Josh, who picked him up and carried him inside.

  Josh heated up some macaroni and cheese and boiled a hot dog. Rufus slept on Lucy’s pillow, not interested in Josh’s culinary skills. After dinner, Josh settled down with a book, with Rufus lying on his chest. The little dog fell right to sleep.

  Before he went to bed, Josh trooped out to his connectivity corner to send Kerri a text message with his cell phone:

  I’m keeping Rufus.

  She didn’t reply, so he didn’t know if she got it or not. He didn’t call her to find out, though. He didn’t want to talk about it.

  If he’d used the PC to send the text, he would have had much more confidence that the message would go through without problems. He didn’t bother to wonder why he’d decided to use the cell phone instead.

  The next morning Josh took a hammer and began dismantling the puppy box. He carefully withdrew the nails so that he could burn the wood in the fireplace without accumulating a pile of metal in the ashes. The boards he stacked to carry to the woodpile, the blanket he decided to leave right where it was, so if Rufus needed the comfort of something familiar, it would be there for him. It’s what Josh would want, anyway, if he were Rufus.

  Just as he was finishing, he heard a very odd sound from the living room, a little noise that caused him to pause, cocking his head. He heard it again, and Josh grinned. Rufus was barking, pulling the sound out of the deepest part of his throat so that he sounded hilariously threatening.

  “Okay, guard dog,” he called.

  Kerri must be here. Josh ducked into the bathroom and made sure his hair looked okay. He brushed his teeth and swigged some mouthwash. He smelled under his arms and decided he passed inspection in that category, though just to be safe he applied another layer of deodorant. Then he splashed a tiny amount of cologne on his neck, sniffed, and then wiped furiously at the smell on his neck with a wet washcloth.

  All this time he expected to hear Kerri’s steps on the front deck, and either her knock or the sound of the door opening, but he heard nothing.

  Rufus gave another yip, abandoning the menacing tone and switching to an impatient, let-me-out-to-play bark.

  “Hey, buddy, is it Kerri? Is Kerri here?” Josh asked, emerging from the bathroom. Rufus was at the big window, his little tail wagging stiffly. Josh walked up and stood behind the puppy to see what Rufus saw.

  There were two cars parked side-by-side at the top of his driveway, and two people standing and talking to each other. Both were women. One of the women was Kerri.

  The other one was Amanda.

  Josh’s heart felt as if it were beating sideways in his chest. He swallowed, not sure he trusted his eyes on this one. Really?

  Amada’s hair was different—she no longer had bangs, and it only just touched her shoulders instead of descending past them. Other than that she looked the same. Josh even recognized the sweater she was wearing as one he’d bought her, a black one, and the jacket was the ski vest he’d purchased for her when he took her skiing in Breckenridge the last time. Both Kerri and Amanda were smiling at each other and chatting and nodding, which seemed to Josh to be a completely unnatural state of affairs.

  “I don’t want to go out there, Rufus,” Josh whispered faintly. The puppy didn’t look at him—Rufus’s attention was fixated on the two women. Sighing, Josh opened the front door, Rufus scrambling between his legs and bounding down the stairs in a half-falling puppy gait.

  “Hi, Rufus!” Kerri called. Rufus went to Amanda first, though, smelling her outstretched hands.

  “So cute,” Amanda gushed. She straightened, tossing her head to sweep the hair out of her eyes, and smiled at Josh.

  “Hey, stranger,” Amanda greeted softly.

  “Hi,” Josh replied awkwardly.

  Rufus ran to Kerri and started obsessively sniffing her boots, probably smelling all the dogs at the shelter. Kerri stooped and stroked Rufus but her eyes were steady on Josh.

  With a little laugh, Amanda held out her arms and stepped up to him and Josh stiffly hugged her. She offered her cheek for a kiss, but as Josh moved in, she switched it up on him so that they were briefly mouth-to-mouth.

  “We pulled in the driveway at the same time. I kept looking in my mirror, thinking, why is that car following me? Anyway. That is the cutest puppy,” Amanda said. She lingered, holding Josh for a few seconds after his arms dropped.

  “Cute puppy, what a concept,” Josh replied. He felt a tremor pass through him, as if his body were under tremendous pressure, about to blow. Amanda’s car, he noticed, was filled with boxes in the backseat, looking very much the same as it had when she’d moved out.

  What did that mean?

  But, of course, he knew what it meant. He’d already fantasized the scene countless times since that day last
April when she’d left.

  Josh felt seasick. He wanted to close his eyes and open them and be somewhere else.

  Amanda was beautiful. Everyone said so, and everyone was right. And wasn’t it her whimsical and capricious desires that he loved most about her? She might always be dissatisfied with things, but wasn’t that itchy wanderlust what had led them on so many fun adventures in their time together?

  All this he processed as if someone were sending a text message directly into his brain. He gazed at Amanda with something akin to remorse filling his heart.

  “Your friend was telling me about you fostering the puppies. That’s so cool,” Amanda praised, her smile flashing.

  Josh cleared his throat.

  “I wish I could have been here to see all of them,” Amanda continued brightly. “You know how much I love dogs. Has fostering puppies changed your mind about getting one, Josh?” Amanda glanced over at Kerri. “I’ve wanted a dog, but so far he’s been resisting me on it.”

  “Is that so,” Kerri responded politely.

  “Amanda,” Josh interrupted, finding his voice.

  She looked at him expectantly. Josh nodded at Kerri. “Kerri isn’t a friend, exactly.”

  Both women watched him with unreadable expressions, waiting.

  “Kerri is my girlfriend.”

  Amanda and Kerri looked equally shocked. “Oh,” Amanda said finally.

  Josh looked at Rufus, who was still sniffing Kerri’s legs. Then he looked up at Kerri, who smiled. Josh smiled back.

  “I’m sorry,” Amanda apologized to Kerri, flustered.

  Kerri waved her hand. “No problem.”

  Amanda nodded to the house. “So do you…”

  “No, I’m not living here or anything,” Kerri answered.

  Yet, Josh wanted to say, but he didn’t.

  “I see.” A brief calculation passed through Amanda’s eyes, and if Josh hadn’t known her so intimately, he probably would have missed it. But he spotted it and, when he glanced at Kerri, he knew that her ability to read minds was fully intact on this one as well.