Rescued Page 8

  Kenna made a clucking noise in the back of her throat, shifted her bag on her shoulder, and brushed past Chuck with a little more force than was necessary. When she was a few feet away, she stopped but didn’t turn around. Chuck stood still where she was.

  “Then it will be official: you will be the crazy animal lady with too many pets. See if Stella will want to date you then.”

  Chuck didn’t respond, so Kenna walked to the door and let herself out. Chuck heard the door close behind her, a car alarm beep, and Kenna’s car door close. The car started and her tires crunched over tiny pieces of gravel on the relatively fresh parking lot. Chuck waited until she didn’t hear a sound from the parking lot before she turned around and gazed out into the night.

  Kenna was a bitch, but what if she was right? If Stella ever saw her whole brood out of the storage room living loud and proud as they liked to do, she might run away screaming. Stella herself had admitted that she was partial to dogs, so what would she think of the cats, rats, and fish? The more she thought about it, the more her reflected face crumpled and frowned back at her.

  She would not give up her furry family for a woman, she decided, and watched as her chin jutted out in the stubborn bent it took on when she had set her mind to something, the face Brenda hated to see more than almost any other because it reminded her so much of their mother. If Stella could not accept her for what she was, then she was not the right girl for Chuck.

  Besides, she had more important things to worry about. Like getting home, changed, and into bed before she only had a few hours to sleep off the weary day. Five A.M. would come early, and if she wanted any of the animals to have a shot at the life they deserved, she would need to bring her A-game to the adoption drive. She hoped Kenna wouldn’t bring her Bitch Game and set her off. The last thing she needed at an adoption drive was the cops.

  CHAPTER 10

  Chuck woke the next morning to a rough, dry tongue lapping at her nose. She brought her hand up, laid it on Snagglepuss’s fat body, and stroked his back gently. He stopped licking for a moment as he tensed, then he relaxed and licked her again. She opened her eyes and smiled at the face so close to her own.

  “Good morning, buddy. I guess you have missed me.”

  He licked her nose again, then stood, stretched, and stepped on her collar bone to leap to her side table. She grumbled as his paws landed like needlepoints on her chest.

  “Don’t step lightly on my account,” she mumbled at him.

  Snagglepuss eyed her with disregard, settled down onto the table, and laid his head on his front paws delicately. He stared at her for a moment, then let his eyelids drift lazily down over his dark eyes. Chuck sat up, stretched, and dropped her feet to the floor. She stood, grabbed her cell phone off its charger, and squinted at the lighted screen as she made her way from her bedroom to the bathroom.

  “Good morning,” she said to the little French bulldog whose toenails clicked on the sand-colored tile as he followed her into the bathroom. She put her phone down on the stained counter and leaned over the sink to stare critically at the dark circles under her eyes in the grimy mirror. “I look like hell.”

  A wet sensation on her ankle made her lean back, then squat down and allow the dog into her lap. He licked the entirety of her face as she petted him behind the ears.

  “Did you miss me, too, Brucie?”

  He barked happily, licked her face again, then scrambled off her lap and onto the floor with a longing gaze. After he took a few steps to the bathroom door, he gazed back at her with sad eyes.

  “Let me wash my face, and I’ll feed you,” she told him. He skittered down the hall and she listened for the thump of his little body hitting the tub in which she kept the small breed dog food he loved so much. She sat down on the closed toilet, dropped her head in her hands, and sighed. It was way too early.

  A few minutes later, she had a clean face and brushed teeth, so she flipped off the bathroom light and walked down the hall toward the kitchen. In a heady stretch, she almost toppled onto her face when she tripped over the heavy body at the end of the hallway. Righting herself, she gave Charlie a withering look that he chose to ignore.

  “One day, you’re going to kill me, and then who will feed you?” she asked. He didn’t respond except to thump his tail on the floor twice and let out a huff. She stepped over him and walked over to the Rubbermaid tubs to feed the dogs. “Okay, Brucie, move it or lose it.”

  The little dog hopped out of the way, so she scooped up some food and poured it into his bowl. He went wild beside her, but waited for her to put away the scoop, close the tub, and step aside before he launched himself at the blue and yellow classic Batman bowl. She patted him on the back gently.

  “You’re a good man.”

  Still in a squat, she turned around to give Charlie a dirty look. “Do you want to eat, too, or are you too lazy?” His eyes opened a crack and she couldn’t suppress a grin. He was incorrigible. “I’ll go ahead and make you a bowl, and you can eat it at your leisure, Sir Naps-a-Lot.”

  After the dogs, both cats appeared silently in another corner of the kitchen. Their corner. Chuck laughed. “You all act like I’ve never fed you,” she said, but poured them out two bowls a foot and a half apart so they could stand back-to-back and eat. She rubbed a hand down either of their backs as they ducked their heads into the matching black and white bowls, then pushed herself to her feet and made a promise in her mind that she would not go to bed after moving heavy stuff again without a good, long stretch.

  “You are not as young as you used to be,” she told herself aloud, and rubbed a hand over a tight muscle in her lower back. Then she walked to the little storage room, checked on, fed, and greeted all the smaller animals, then walked back to her bedroom.

  She stood in front of her open closet door for a full minute before she walked backwards to her bed, fell onto the twisted sheets, and stared at the ceiling. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to wear to something like this,” she told the ceiling fan as it turned over her head. “Usually I just do the jeans and t-shirt thing, but Stella has stepped up our adoption game considerably.”

  She turned her head and let her eyes fall on a painting of a nude woman, her back to the viewer, reaching out to toss a pheasant to an ochreous clouded leopard draped over the branches of an evergreen. It was one of the few things she had left of her mother.

  “What would you do in this situation?” she asked. After a moment, she smiled. “You would walk up to her, put a hand on her back, pull her close, and give her a kiss. You wouldn’t waste time trying to play it cool.”

  Chuck sighed and pushed herself back to a sitting position. “And you definitely would not make yourself late trying to ask your missing mother what to wear. You would throw something on, probably the perfect thing for the occasion without even trying, and drive out there like a bat out of hell. You would have everything under control, but you would never have made a single plan. You would play it by ear like a genius, and you would get everything you wanted.”

  She stood up, walked over to her closet, and rifled through the clothes hanging there. She couldn’t wear the nicest of her clothes, because no matter how far Stella stepped the game up, Chuck would still have to be handling animals of all shapes and sizes. Also out of the running were shorts and thin fabrics for the same reason. In the end, she settled on a pair of dark wash jeans, a zippered shirt, and boots that toed the line between dressy and functional.

  By the time she got ready, drove across town, and showed up at the shelter with a couple of breakfast sandwiches from a fast food drive-thru, Stella’s car was already in the parking lot.

  “Shit,” she whispered to herself, then tried to put on a happy face as she pulled up beside Stella’s car.

  When Stella spotted her, she waved, finished the conversation she was having on her cell phone, then got out of her car. Chuck grabbed the sandwiches and her keys, then got out to join Stella where she was waiting by the door.

  �
�Good morning,” Chuck said. She held out the bag with the sandwiches. “Would you mind holding this? Sometimes the lock sticks and I need both hands.”

  Stella took the bag, then waved it below her nose. As Chuck opened the door, Stella let out a little groan of pleasure, and it sent sparks down Chuck’s body. “This smells incredible. I wish I had thought of bringing something.”

  Chuck opened the door, took the bag from Stella, and gestured for her to go in first. “Good thing I thought of you, or you might have to watch me eat all by myself.”

  She grinned as Stella gave her a grateful look and walked inside. Chuck followed, letting the door close itself behind her. In the empty lobby, the sound echoed.

  “You are a keeper, Chuck Billard.”

  Chuck blushed around a smile, then reached in the bag, pulled out the sandwiches, and handed one to Stella. “Eggs and cheese, no sausage.”

  “Two of my weaknesses wrapped into one,” Stella said. She leaned forward and kissed Chuck on the cheek. “Good thing you didn’t bring me a mocha iced coffee; if you had, I would have had to marry you.”

  Chuck unwrapped her sandwich and tried to ignore the pounding of her heart in her ears. Next time, she would have to remember that Stella liked sweet, chocolatey coffee. Speaking of chocolate...

  “Hey, did you happen to get a delivery yesterday?” she asked Stella.

  Stella chewed the bite in her mouth, swallowed, the wiped crumbs off her lips. “No, why? Was I supposed to?”

  “Maybe it wasn’t ready yet,” Chuck mumbled.

  Stella leaned forward. “What did you say?”

  “Oh, nothing.” Chuck shook her head at Stella. “It’s a gift from Brenda and I. A little thank-you for all the hard work you have put in to help with the adoption drive.”

  “Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” Stella said. She put her sandwich down and touched Chuck’s shoulder. “You are so thoughtful.”

  Chuck blushed and looked away. “I’m okay. It’s nothing special.”

  Stella stepped forward, took the sandwich from Chuck’s hand, and put it beside her own. Then she took Chuck’s hand, stepped closer, and looked Chuck in the eyes. “You are a lot more than okay. You are one of the kindest, most generous people I have ever met.”

  Chuck almost choked on her sharp intake of breath as Stella leaned closer still. “Stella...”

  Stella put her fingers to Chuck’s lips, and Chuck closed her eyes. When their lips met, Chuck knew that the softness, the warmth, and the electricity she had felt in past kisses with other women were only to prepare her for this one. It was sweet, long, and soft. Chuck felt her body thrum to life like a new guitar string being wound slowly into place. When Stella finally pulled away, Chuck felt the sensation of loss like a phantom limb.

  She didn’t get a word out before Stella stood up and held out a hand to help Chuck up onto her feet. “Well, time is wasting, and we still have to check out the back. Hopefully none of them have gotten into trouble while we have been away.”

  Chuck allowed herself to be helped to her feet with a grunt. “If we’re lucky, I will only have to bathe a dozen or so of them again.”

  They walked over to the door, tossed their trash into the can behind the reception desk, and Chuck let them in the locked door. A chorus of sound echoed over the cream-colored walls and Stella grinned.

  “I love that sound. They sound so alive... so happy.”

  Chuck smiled, too, and walked them to the end of the hall. She turned and faced Stella. “Are you ready for this?”

  “As I will ever be,” Stella said.

  Chuck pushed opened the door and they were greeted with a ruckus of excitement. In this room, birds of every shape and size were arranged in cages on both walls. A single, extra-large Eclectus parrot perched on a beam in a cage double the size of Chuck. She ruffled her red feathers as they walked in, then plucked at the purple burst on her chest with her shiny black beak to signal she had lost interest in them.

  “I’ve never seen this room before,” Stella whispered.

  She seemed to have tucked into herself, and she inched closer to Chuck as she took in the sight of so many birds in one space. Chuck watched her face in fascination.

  “What, you don’t like birds?” she asked.

  Stella shrugged one shoulder. A bird to her left took flight in its cage, and she jumped into Chuck, almost knocking them both to the floor. Chuck burst out laughing and Stella gave her a guilty smile.

  “So, maybe I don’t love birds,” Stella said. “It might have something to do with the movie.”

  Chuck righted Stella on her feet, left her at the door, then walked the perimeter, looking for any birds or cages that needed attention. “Hitchcock is one of my favorites, but I never thought The Birds was a scary one. Psycho, on the other hand...” She walked back to Stella and smiled. “You are in luck. No cages need to be opened.”

  Stella let out an exaggerated sigh of relief and backed out of the room. Chuck followed, closed the door behind her, and led Stella to the next room. She unlocked it and ducked her head in, even though she knew it would be empty; it was, no stragglers left behind in the haste to get everything ready the day before, and she locked it behind her with a satisfied nod.

  The next room was a madhouse. Dogs from pre-weened to senior status slept, barked, bounced, circled, hopped, and all manner of other actions in three dozen kennels in the room. Stella walked in without a thought and charged straight for a large kennel in the back that held a few litters of little puppies.

  “They are so sweet,” she said, and stuck a fingertip inside the cage. A yellow ball of fur leapt onto its hind legs and licked feverishly at her finger, whining to be held. “Aww, little one, I wish I could have you,” she told it. “But my heart belongs to another guy.” She stood up and turned around to face Chuck. “How is he?”

  Chuck shook her head. “He responded really well to the antibiotics, and Brenda still has him on pain medication, but he is still far from out of the woods. Brenda has been watching him closely, and the last she told me, his hip is swelling more by the day.” She took a breath and watched the puppies play in front of her. “She thinks it might be an old injury, though, not from the accident.”

  Stella’s hand came up to her mouth to cover a gasp. “You mean he was trying to get across the road with a broken hip and got hit by another car?”

  “I’m not sure the injuries came from a car accident. It is nearly as possible that he was an abused pet who was thrown from a moving car.” She met Stella’s eyes, then looked away from the tears she saw glistening there, trying to keep her own eyes from pooling up. “I wish I could say he would be the first time I had seen something like that, but no such luck.”

  Stella took Chuck’s hand and the two stood in silence within the cacophonous room for a few long moments. Chuck was just turning toward Stella to speak when a throat cleared behind them. They both turned around and Chuck’s face fell when she saw the woman standing there.

  “Kenna,” Chuck said. “What are you doing here?”

  Stella dropped Chuck’s hand, picked up her bag, and looked over at Kenna with a wide-eyed and open-mouthed stare. “We were just checking on the animals to see what they needed before we opened the adoption drive.”

  Kenna sneered at Chuck. “Don’t you mean the fundraiser for your little lost cause?” she asked. She never turned her eyes or acknowledged Stella in any way. “I’m here because I am co-owner. Or have you forgotten?”

  “I hadn’t forgotten,” Chuck said. Her nerves felt raw all of a sudden, as if Kenna had rubbed them with a cheese grater. “I’m here to make sure this thing is a success.”

  Stella stifled most of a yawn behind one hand, and Kenna took one step toward Chuck. “If it isn’t, you will owe me for the care and supplies wasted on that dog, not to mention the money we must have spent on the ridiculous decorations.”

  “I provided those,” Stella said, her voice more confident than before. When Kenna looked over at he
r, Stella smiled, but it didn’t go to her eyes. “Free of charge.”

  “Duly noted.” Kenna glanced back at Chuck and her sneer turned into a scowl. “Don’t make me regret giving you your job back. I would hate to put you on the street again over a dog.” She gave Stella a dirty look.

  Before Chuck could respond, Kenna stalked out of the room and left the two women alone. Chuck stared at her back, then at the spot she had occupied, trying to give her brain time to catch up with all Kenna had said. A furious blush crept over her face and left her skin nearly steaming with fury and embarrassment.

  “She really is some kind of monster,” Stella said quietly. She took a step forward and clasped Chuck’s hand in her own. “I wish you and Brenda could buy her out.”

  Chuck deflated, but didn’t let go of Stella’s hand. It felt warm and papery smooth in her own calloused one. “If either of us could afford it, we would. But with all Brenda’s school loans, and my stupidity debt, we will be lucky if either of us can afford to buy our own shoes without a credit card in ten years.”

  Stella squeezed her hand. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

  She was right. Chuck squeezed back, then let her go and glanced at Stella’s smiling face. “Let’s get this party started. We have a scruffy little dog to save.”

  CHAPTER 11

  The morning started slow, but as soon as Stella started pushing updates out on all of Saving Gracie’s admittedly not very active accounts across several social media platforms, as well as her own, the first few people showed up. Chuck watched in fascination as Stella welcomed them, handed out fliers, and ushered them to the first of the tour guides, Gwen. Zack would lead the second round, and Fiona the fourth. Bobby and Yarely were stationed in the back rooms, instructed to keep things tidy or tap out the other kids as they grew wary.

  If none of the kids had come back by the time they had another customer, Chuck and Brenda were both on call for tour guide duty. For the most part, however, they stood and watched in amazement as Landon handed out receipt after receipt for donations towards Stanley’s medical bill.