Lost and Found (7 page)

“Shhh,” I said to the dog, who wouldn’t stop whining. She whined on the walk home, tugging on her new expensive leash and new expensive collar. She whined up the stairs as I dragged her, and then pushed her, to the third floor. She even whined as she sat down in front of my apartment and waited for me to unlock the door. She was so loud that Oliver came out into the hallway.

“What is
that?”
he said in disgust, which was a voice he used often around me.

“It’s my dog.” I looked down at the patchwork of matted brown and white and black fur, her scra
ggly body and scratched nose, and shook my head, already feeling more emotion for that twenty pounds of dog than I had for almost anyone else. I’d taken one look at her sitting in a kennel in the Humane Society and knew she was a kindred spirit.

The Dalmatian I’d initially gone in to see was ha
ppily wagging her tongue and tail and putting up her paws against the kennel door and I’d been instantly drawn to her beauty. She was lean and muscular and athletic.

But when I went to play with the Dalmatian in the dog run, she sat, then laid down, barely acknowledged my presence. She stared up at me, and then flattened her head against the concrete of the kennel, not cha
sing the tennis balls I threw her, not wagging her tail when I scratched behind her ear, daring me to not love her beautiful face anyway. She reminded me an awful lot of my mother.

I’d walked her back to her kennel, and then I’d turned and saw the pathetic mutt in the corner. She ran around
in a circle of excitement and sat at my feet, and I’d forgotten all about the beautiful strong Dalmatian.

Oliver raised his eyebrows. “You’re sure that’s a dog? It looks like it might be part opossum.
Or a very large rat.”

“I think you’re a very large rat,” I said and narrowed my eyes at Oliver. The dog barked. 

“Whoa. I’ve never seen you be anything but over-the-top kind. This dog has you getting mean. Or maybe it’s a ferret on steroids. With mange.”

“Watch it. And I’m turning over a new leaf. I’m not going to be a doormat any longer.”

“Uh huh. Sure,” Oliver said, kneeling down to peer at the dog. He put a tentative hand out, and my dog sniffed it slowly before looking in Oliver’s face, and then giving a wag of her tail. Oliver gently patted the dog on the head and she lay down.

“Okay, maybe he’s not so bad.”

“She. It’s a girl.”

The dog rolled over on her back and opened her mouth, her tongue hanging out in happiness. I think the dog had a crush on Oliver, closing her eyes in bliss when he scratched her belly. No female was i
mpervious.

“What’s her name?” Oliver asked.

“I haven’t decided yet,” I said.

“Let me know when you do,” Oliver said, and then stood up. The dog returned to all fours and watched Ol
iver retreat to his apartment, and gave out a low moan as Oliver disappeared.

I leaned down and scratched behind her ear as she continued to stare at Oliver’s door, willing him to come
back. “Don’t look needy, girl,” I said, and then dragged her into her new home.

Delaney smiled up at me from the floor, where she was petting her dog. It was this ugly mutt, and she cooed at it like it was the most beautiful creature. I wanted her to look up at me with the same expression, and when she looked up at me again, my heart sped up, my palms went sweaty, and my vision blurred a little. I grinned down at her, bubbling with happiness, and then realized slowly, horrifically, what I was doing with Delaney.

I escaped into my apartment and called up Michael. “I need to go out.
Tonight. Come out to the Saturn with me.”

“What’s the hurry?” Michael said slowly.

“I just need a distraction.”

“A distraction from what?
Wedding stuff?”

“Sure.
Yeah.” I hung up the phone and closed my eyes, willing myself to think rationally, but instead I kept thinking of Delaney.

Ursula frowned down at the card I’d passed to her across the cafeteria table. “Dr. Wild gave you his number?”

“Yes.
For you.” I’d just explained my mortifying experience after my physical, asking for Dr. Wild’s phone number on behalf of Ursula. It wasn’t something I was keen to experience again. “You better call him.”

She sucked in a breath and her eyes darted around the room. “I don’t know. I’m…this is a little scar
ier than I thought.”

“What is?”

“Life,” she said.

“Oh. Yeah, it is.”

“But did he seem interested?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah.
He brightened right up when I mentioned your name.”

“Maybe it was you he was smiling at, though.”

“Ursula, don’t be ridiculous. How completely unprofessional is this guy? He wouldn’t date a patient.”

“You’re right. He wouldn’t. He’s really sweet.
And handsome. And he has these green eyes that are the color of sea glass and—”

“Ursula, focus.
Call. Arrange a date. Make happy time. Leave me out of it, okay?”

“Okay.” She bit her lip, “Speaking of favors, I should talk to Oliver about being less of a jac
kass.”

“He’s not that bad,” I said softly, remembering our dinner the other night.  “Emily verbally kicked his ass the other day, actua
lly.”

“Good for her!” She fist pumped and then asked, “So, when can I come over and see your place and also verba
lly kick Oliver’s ass?”

“I don’t know. He’s actually being a little ni
cer.”

“Is he still calling you Skunk Girl?”

My hand fluttered to my hair and I didn’t have to answer.  “Ass kicking time. Name it,” she said.

“You really don’t have to—”

“Delaney, you did me a favor, now I’m doing you one. Name the time.”

“
Tonight? Seven?”

“Tonight.”

“Oliver!” Ursula said as we hit the top landing, Oliver leaning against his door, giving his cousin a sleepy smile.

“Hey,” he said, and he wrapped his arms around her. “I can’t believe we live in the same city and we never manage to see each other. It’s ridiculous.” His eyes skated past Ursula’s shoulder as he gave me a small smile. “Hey, Delaney.”

“Hey, Oliver,” I said softly.

“It is ridiculous,” said Ursula. “The last time I saw you was with Dr. Wild at that—”

He rubbed a hand over his face. “Don’t call him Dr. Wild. It just gives him an ego.”

“I don’t know. It feels weird to call him Michael.” Ursula pulled away from her cousin’s shoulder and looked at me. “I hear you’ve been mean to my girl, O.”

“I was.” He stepped away, leaning against the carved wood rai
ling of the landing as he eyed us.

“He’s really not so bad,” I said, smiling at Oliver.  “Anymore,” he added with a smile, leaning even farther away from me.

“Are you okay?” I asked him.

“Sure. Why?”

“You just seem like you’re trying to get as far away from me as possible,” I said.

“Nothing
like that,” he said, but he didn’t budge, and his eyes fell to my legs. “You always wear tights. It’s eighty degrees out and you’re wearing tights.”

Ursula said, “How’ve you been, Oliver?”

“Why’s she always wearing tights?” Oliver asked her. “Is she dating a tights fetishist?” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and Ursula shook her head and glared at him. He shrugged and said, “What?”

“
Noth-ing,” I said with a sing-song. “Want to come in?” At the sound of my key in the door, I heard the familiar whine of the dog, and then a scratch. “I can’t believe Mary let you keep a dog,” Oliver said.

“Mary likes me,” I said.

“Mary?” Ursula asked, and Oliver and I said, “Landlord,” in unison. The dog climbed up my legs with her front paws, and I snuggled her. Oliver walked into my apartment and crouched down to scratch behind the dog’s ears. If the dog could have purred, she would have.

Ursula looked on in horror. “That’s your new dog? Whoa. Uh, Delaney, I think that thing might be ra
bid.”

“Hush. This dog is my new family. You have to be nice, just like when someone has an ugly infant. You pretend. You smile. You go home and post ugly infant photos to
Instagram with a very strong filter. You do
not
tell the child’s mother that her baby is rabid.

“Besides, I think this dog was meant for me. Look at her.” I picked up the dog so she and I
were nose-to-nose, my gray streak touching a patch of white fur on the dog’s head. “Don’t you think we look kind of similar?”

“Jesus.
No,
Delaney,” Ursula said, sounding a lot like her cousin, and Oliver, grabbing a cookie from my kitchen said, “I told her, too. I think she’s in love with the thing.”

I stood up and grabbed the leash, deciding to ignore my new fam
ily member’s detractors. “I have to give her a short walk. I’ll be right back. Make yourselves at home,” I said as I gestured to my red sofa with curlicue arms. “I can’t believe you still have this,” Ursula said, and Oliver gave me a questioning look.

“I found the sofa on a street corner in college, and a friend with a truck hauled it for me. It called to me b
ecause it was beautiful,” I said. “It’s been in storage for years.”

“You do love beautiful things,” Ursula said. “Like Cliff.” I stepped on her toe as Oliver looked at me for elaboration, and when I gave none, he sat down.

“Free is my favorite price,” I said.

Ursula shook her head. “Delaney’s always finding things. She found
me.
She found this sofa. Did she find you?” She narrowed her eyes at her cousin.

“Sounds familiar.
And nope,” he said, giving me a broad smile. “I found her.” I stepped out the door with the dog’s leash in my hand and said to him, “And I didn’t even know I was lost.”

When I returned, I found Oliver and Ursula deep in convers
ation.

“I’m sorry to miss it, but I just won’t be able to go to the we
dding,” Oliver said.

“But you
have
to go, O,” Ursula said.

“What are you two talking about? Who’s getting ma
rried?” I asked cheerfully, but Oliver’s face fell when he saw me and his mouth clamped shut.

“Boring family stuff.
Don’t worry about it,” Ursula said.

“Oh, okay.” I was missing something very important. I busied myself by cutting the cinnamon buns I’d baked yesterday and ma
king a new batch of maple icing.

“So, let me get this straight,” Ursula said as she fo
llowed me and rested against my kitchen counter, stealing a swipe of icing from the bowl. Oliver was right behind her, doing the same thing. Ursula turned to Oliver and asked, “How could you be such a jackass? You’re so sweet and kind and I always wanted you to be my brother. How could you be mean to someone as nice as Delaney?”

“No, no.
You first. Delaney said you like Michael. I don’t think there are enough vomit noises to convey my feelings,” Oliver said.

“Whatever,” Ursula said. “Dr. Wild is amazing and—”

I started the burr grinder for a fresh pot of coffee, so I missed the first part of Ursula’s explanation, but when I glanced over, her cheeks were pink. “Since you two were in med school together.”

“That’s—Ursula, Michael’s great but I don’t think you’re his type. I’ve seen the kind of girls he goes for and you’re just too sweet for him.”

“Ursula can hold her own,” I said over the percolating coffeemaker. “Trust me. I’ve seen her in a bar surrounded by guys and—”

“Stop talking right now. I need no mental picture of this,” Oliver said.

I walked over to my tiny coffee table and rested the plate of cinnamon buns on the table. “She can hold her own, is all I’m saying. Tell Dr. Wild how great she is.”

“Dr. Wild,” Oliver snorted.

“I like him,” Ursula said.

“It’s too weird,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Oliver!” she screamed. “I’ve liked him for
years.
I liked him even when I was with Jeremy, and Michael was with that simpering girl, what’s-her-name.”

“Fiona,” he said flatly.

“Ugh.
Fiona,
” Ursula said.

“The point is,” I said, “they’re both single and they both like each other and they should go out.”

“Fine, but leave me out of it,” he said, leaning back against my canary throw pillow.

“Fine,” I said. “Ursula, call him.”

“Okay.” She looked down at her plate. “I just—I’ve never—I mean.”

“You’ve never asked a guy out,” I said. She nodded and Oliver sat in the corner, arms still crossed, smirking. “We’ll figure som
ething out. After Jackass leaves.”

“Hey!” he said with fake hurt.

“Yeah, yeah, like you’re surprised people call you that to your face.” Ursula rolled her eyes. “Speaking of, you
are
going to be nice to her from now on, right?”

“You two can talk right to me. I’m in the room,” I piped in.

“I
am
nice to her. I’m even concerned for her safety every time I see her coming back from an insane run in the dark, where she’s going to get murdered.”

“Oh, Delaney is fearless. On some things, anyway,” Ursula said.

“What she means,” I said, “is that men fear me. No one is going to even
attempt
to murder me.”

“Lane,” Ursula hissed.

“What?” I laughed. “Not even a hardened criminal would venture jumping me. Oliver himself said I was ugly.”

He simply frowned at this as Ursula glared at him. He was silent, his eyes focused on the coffee table.

“It doesn’t bother me,” I said to Oliver. “We’re beyond that, right?”

Oliver shrugged.

“It bothers
me,
” Ursula said.

“That’s because if someone called you ugly it would be a lie,” I said. “Unlike with me….”

“Unlike with you?” Oliver asked, puzzled. Ursula fumed as she sat beside me.

“Stop.
We’re stopping this right now before I go find Cliff and punch him in the teeth.” Ursula stood up and walked into the kitchen. “I’m getting coffee.”

Oliver stood, too, and said, “I should go.” He glanced down at the dog,
who followed him out the door, looking up at him with love in her cloudy brown eyes. “Uh, Laney, could you keep your dog in the apartment?”

“You can stay if you want.” I gave him one of my genuine smiles as I hooked a finger under the dog’s collar. “Stay.”

“Do you have a name for the dog yet?” he asked.

“I’m thinking of calling her Jenny.”

“Jenny?” Ursula and Oliver said at the same time.

“After my favorite author, Jenny Edmonton,” I said, and Ursula smiled. “This dog seems to know a lot about love.”

“Puppy love,” Ursula said.

“Maybe,” I said with a nod.
“Or maybe something more. And she seems like a Jenny.”

“Alright,” Oliver said, bending over to scratch Jenny under the chin. “See you later, Jenny.”

“You’re not going to stay?” I asked.

“I’ve actually got to go to work in an hour or so.”

“Oh. Well.” I went back to the kitchen with Jenny in my arms and fetched a small Tupperware of cinnamon buns, keeping it just out of reach of the dog. “Here. Tide you over until the next time.”

“Until the next time I insult you and you show me i
nfinite kindness?” He shook his head and said, “I’ll see you later, Delaney.”

“I’m telling your cousin to call Dr. Wild!” I called to his retrea
ting back.

He raised a hand, waving his middle finger at me, his only r
esponse. After he left, I turned to Ursula and said, “I’m fearless on
some
things?”

“Well,” she said around a mouthful of carbs, “
it’s eighty degrees and you’re wearing tights.”

“Sometimes they’re leggings,” I said. She stared. “You’re right. And I’m glad you’ve become fearless around carbs.”

“Too much temptation,” she said, smiling, with frosting on her lips, looking like a gluttonous angel.

“Plus, money can’t buy happiness, but it can buy baking ingred
ients, and that’s as close as I can get,” I said.

“Oh, I think you can get even closer,” Ursula said. “Now, turn on the TV. I need some crime scene dramas to go with these ci
nnamon buns.”

I snuggled Jenny in my lap, and clicked on the TV, feeling at least the approximation of happiness. I tried not to analyze why I always buzzed with this strange feeling whenever Oliver showed up. I settled into the sofa next to Ursula to focus on the next
Law and Order
rerun.