Melanie Travis 06 - Hush Puppy (19 page)

“I’m telling you this isn’t necessary,” Jane said, jumping out of the car.

I didn’t bother to argue. Instead, I followed as she headed past the front porch and down a narrow driveway that ran along the side of the house. Two concrete steps led to the back door. Jane tried the door and found it locked.

She produced a key from her pocket, opened the door and stepped inside. “Gran?”

A waist-high picket fence separated the house from the one beside it. Next door, a man who probably spent his weekdays toiling in a small office was spending his weekend toiling in his small backyard. March in Connecticut means spring cleanup. He was raking vigorously while a baby, sound asleep and bundled against the cold, swung in an electric swing.

“You looking for Mrs. Gaines?” he called. “She’s not home. I saw her go out earlier.”

Jane reappeared on the step. The man frowned slightly, as if trying to decide whether or not he recognized her. “You’re the granddaughter, right?”

“Right,” I said. “Jane wants to spend the afternoon with me. We were hoping to get permission from Mrs. Gaines.”

“Can’t help you there. But I don’t imagine she’d object. Why don’t you leave your name and telephone number with me? I’ll give her the message when she gets back.”

The solution pleased all of us. I scribbled the information on a piece of paper and gave it to him.

Back in the car, Jane made no attempt to hide her excitement. “How far is it?” she asked, then kept talking before I had a chance to answer. “Will we be there soon? Wow, eight dogs in one house. I can’t even imagine that. Does your aunt have any other animals? She doesn’t have any ponies, does she?”

“One question at a time,” I said, laughing. “We’ll be there in ten minutes. And no, she doesn’t have any ponies. But I think the dogs will be enough to keep you busy.”

“Are there going to be lots of people?”

“No,” I said. “Aside from my aunt, just one. Sheila is my fiancé’s ex-wife. She moved here recently because she’s hoping to get back together with him. Aunt Peg thought the two of us should meet.”

“Wow,” said Jane. “Just like a soap opera. This is going to be a blast.”

That was what I was afraid of.

Before the Volvo had even rolled to a stop in Aunt Peg’s driveway, Jane had her seat belt off and her door open. She jumped out of the car, with Faith right behind her. I could hear Aunt Peg’s Standard Poodles barking inside the house; predictably, the door opened a moment later and the herd came streaming out.

Mine was the only car in the driveway, so Sheila had yet to arrive. It was just as well. One look at the manic greetings going on in front of the house and any sane person might have been tempted to run for her life.

Aunt Peg and I both reached the foot of the steps at the same time. Jane had thrown herself into the milling canine throng with glee. The Poodles, always eager for a new playmate, were happy to return her enthusiasm.

“Interesting child,” Peg said, as Jane lifted her nose to the sky and howled like a wolf. “I like her already.”

As the Poodles careened around us in wide circles, Faith came flying past. I heard Aunt Peg gasp. “Dear Lord! What on earth has happened?”

“We had a bit of an accident—”

“I’ll say.” Peg was not amused. She snapped her fingers and Faith immediately turned and raced back to her. My aunt has that effect on dogs and people alike.

Briefly she ran her fingers through the Poodle’s neck hair, flipping it one way, then another, as she inspected the damage. “Do you have any idea what you’ve
done?”

“Yes, but—”

“You’ve put her out of the show ring for six months. And now, of all times, with five good judges coming up on the Cherry Blossom circuit. With any luck she’d have finished there.”

I shut my mouth and let her rant. After a minute, Aunt Peg realized I wasn’t responding. “Well?” she demanded. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“At least she’s alive.”

“Of course she’s alive—” Peg stopped abruptly and narrowed her eyes. “Was there any question she might not be?”

“There was a fire yesterday at the school. Faith and I were trapped, and I had to hand her out through a window. Her hair got caught on a piece of glass and ripped out.”

“I read about the fire in the paper. The article said it was small and contained in one area. It didn’t say a thing about people needing to be rescued.”

“Mr. Hanover preferred to downplay the event, and I agreed. I know the hair’s a problem.” More mine than hers, I thought. I was the one doing all the maintenance on the coat. “But it couldn’t be helped.”

“I suppose I should be grateful that everything turned out all right,” Peg said grudgingly.

Was I the only one who noticed that she hadn’t inquired after the state of
my
health?

“Where’s Sheila?” I asked.

“She’ll be along in a few minutes. In the meantime, why don’t you introduce me to your friend?”

I called Jane over. She stared at Aunt Peg in awe, then carefully wiped her hand on her jeans before holding it out to shake.

“Ms. Travis said you had eight dogs,” she said. “I only see five.”

“The other three are back in the kennel. Maybe we’ll visit them after lunch. Are you hungry?”

“Sure.” Jane grinned.

“You just ate,” I mentioned.

“Pish,” said Aunt Peg. “A growing girl like Jane needs all the food she can get. Let’s go inside and have a drink while we’re waiting for Sheila, shall we?”

Peg looped an arm around Jane’s shoulders and they climbed the steps side by side. I worked on ignoring a small, unworthy, stab of irritation. The first time I’d met Jane, she’d barely let me come within arm’s length.

No sooner had we reached the kitchen than the canine alarm system went into full cry again. Aunt Peg was getting a pitcher of iced tea out of the refrigerator. Jane was lining up glasses on the counter. It was left to me to go greet Sheila.

Aunt Peg is one of the world’s great manipulators, so I figured it hadn’t been an accident that things worked out that way. But now that the time was finally at hand, I found myself incredibly curious about the woman who’d been Sam Driver’s first love. Perhaps she and I had more in common than falling for the same man. Maybe we’d even turn out to be friends.

The first words out of her mouth shattered that illusion to bits.

“You must be Melanie,” she said. “I must say, you don’t look like much.”

“Pardon me?” The smile froze on my face.

I tried not to notice that the car she’d just climbed out of was a metallic blue Mercedes Benz. People who show big dogs need practical cars, like Volvos. At least that was what I told myself. You could probably stick a Pug or two just about anywhere.

“The way Sam talks about you, I thought you were some sort of wonder woman. I guess I was expecting someone . . .” Her gaze raked up and down. “Taller.”

Considering that my height topped hers by several inches, I figured Sheila was hardly one to talk. Then again, while I’ve always wanted to be tall and statuesque, Sheila looked like the kind of woman who was thrilled with herself just the way she was.

Her clothes—black jeans, a white turtleneck, and a black leather bomber jacket—fit her small frame impeccably. Their lack of color formed the perfect backdrop for her sleek dark hair, creamy skin, and big blue eyes. Everything about her screamed confidence.

If I wasn’t careful, I might find myself screaming right back.

“I hope I’m not underdressed,” she said, glancing at my dark suit. “Peg said it was casual.”

“It is. I just came from a memorial service; otherwise, I’d be wearing pants myself.”

“Oh, that’s right.” Sheila’s eyebrows arched. “Sam mentioned that your friends seem to make a habit of dying.”

I choked back the first response that sprang to mind, quickly covering the word by clearing my throat. Even though one hears it all the time at dog shows, most people find it objectionable in polite company.

I guessed that meant the battle lines had been drawn.

At the door we were met by the mob of Poodles. Sheila, as the newcomer, received the bulk of the friendly assault, but she didn’t seem to mind. Aunt Peg looked on approvingly as Sam’s ex-wife made sure that each of the dogs got a moment of individual attention.

“They’re gorgeous,” she said. “I don’t know how you find the time to keep them all so beautifully groomed.”

“I make the time,” Peg replied pointedly, and I knew the dig was directed at me.

“Well, I admire your dedication. I’m not sure I could do half as well. Luckily, my Pugs are pretty much wash-and-wear.”

Suck up, I thought.

Aunt Peg glared.

Good grief, I hadn’t spoken aloud, had I? If so, Sheila didn’t seem to have heard. Jane, however, was grinning. I took that as a bad sign.

She hung back as Aunt Peg and Sheila headed for the kitchen. “So that’s the competition.”

“Sheila and I are not competing.”

“Try telling that to her.”

The girl’s radar was way too accurate.

“Besides,” I said. “Even if we were, this is neutral territory.”

“All’s fair in love and war,” Jane quoted. For a child who didn’t spend any time in school, her education wasn’t half bad.

You know how time seems to speed up when you’re having fun and slows when things are going badly? That afternoon passed with an excruciating lack of velocity. By the time coffee was served, I must have checked my watch a dozen times.

Aunt Peg kept scowling at me. Jane couldn’t seem to stop giggling. Sheila, meanwhile, was the perfect guest. She complimented Aunt Peg on the food, the decor, and, most importantly, the Cedar Crest Poodles.

It was clear from the depth of her knowledge about the dogs that Sheila had done her homework. Peg was, I could tell, simultaneously surprised and flattered. The way to her heart is through her Poodles. In no time, she and Sheila were well on their way to becoming buddies.

Aunt Peg’s usually pretty sharp. I’d trust her judgment in almost any situation. Now, however, Sheila had her completely hoodwinked. The woman sitting across from me was a totally different person from the one I’d met outside, and Peg was falling for the entire, nauseating performance.

The way I saw it, Sheila Vaughn was either a hypocrite or schizophrenic. I was hoping for mental illness myself.

Dessert is the most important part of any meal at Aunt Peg’s, so I didn’t dare make an escape until after it had been served. Mocha cake from the St. Moritz bakery is my favorite. It would hardly have been gracious of me not to eat a piece. Or two.

When my plate had been cleaned for the second time, I laid down my fork, and said to Jane, “You wanted to see the other Poodles. Why don’t I take you out to the kennel and we’ll have a look?”

“Don’t be silly.” Peg rose from her seat. “Jane and I will go. You and Sheila can use the time to get to know one another better.”

If what I knew so far was an indication, getting to know Sheila any better was going to completely ruin my day.

Aunt Peg never gave me a chance to disagree, however. She simply left the dishes on the table, scooped Jane up, and off they went. The silence after their exit was like a vacuum.

I stood and began to clear the dishes. Sheila got up to help.

“Please sit,” I said. “This won’t take long.”

Sheila wasn’t the only one who could lie through her teeth. If I had my way, I’d be in the kitchen until it was time to leave.

The sink was already full. I left the dessert plates on the counter and put the cake in the refrigerator. When I turned around, Sheila was in the doorway. She’d crouched down beside Faith and was scratching beneath her chin. Grudgingly, I noted that she wasn’t disturbing the Poodle’s precious show coat.

“I guess you don’t like me very much,” she said.

I shrugged, turned on the hot water, and began rinsing plates.

Sheila stood up. She had to raise her voice to be heard above the running water. “You see me as a threat.”

“No, you see yourself as a threat. I think you’re more of an inconvenience.”

I glanced back over my shoulder to see her reaction. The barb had hit home. Sheila looked seriously peeved.

“Don’t underestimate me,” she said, crossing the kitchen to stand by the counter. “Sam loved me once. I think he loves me still.”

“He may love you, but he’s not in love with you.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“He didn’t have to. If he were in love with you, he wouldn’t be engaged to me. Sam’s a good man, better than anyone I’ve ever met. You should have realized that sooner, though I can’t say I’m sorry you didn’t.”

“I was young, I made a mistake. Now I know enough to want to undo it.”

I slipped the stack of plates into their slots in the dishwasher. “It’s too late.”

“We’ll see about that, won’t we?”

If that had been my line, I might have thought it made a fine parting shot and stormed out of the room. Not Sheila. Since I was filling the dishwasher, she took my place at the sink and started rinsing glasses. As if helping out was the most natural thing to do.

I hate it when people refuse to be consistent.

“That’s a pretty Standard,” she said, inclining her head toward Faith. “Did you breed her?”

I’d been thinking of Sheila as a Pug person. Now it occurred to me that, having lived with Sam and his Poodles, she was, of course, entitled to have an opinion. “No, she’s one of Peg’s.”

“It figures. Her dogs are gorgeous. Do you show her yourself?”

It’s hard to remain prickly when someone wants to talk about your dog. “Yes, with Peg’s help. Faith has ten points, including a major. I was hoping to finish her next month, but now she’s lost a big hunk of hair, so I guess it’ll have to wait.”

“You can work around that, you know. People do it all the time.”

“You mean switches?”

Some people call them wiglets. They’re made from actual Poodle hair, taken from dogs that have finished their championships and had their coats cut down. The long hair is banded or sewn together at the base; then that knot is secured to the existing shorter hair with more rubber bands. Some dogs wear switches for length; others, to give their coats more fullness.

Usually they’re attached to a Poodle’s topknot, but putting them in neck hair is not uncommon. Of course, the
A.K.C.
frowns on their use. Properly applied, however, only one judge in fifty will even know they’re there.

Sheila nodded. “Especially with a coat as good as hers is, nobody would even suspect.”

“I’d know,” I said quietly.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those moral types.”

“There’s nothing wrong with following the rules.”

“Except that it hardly ever gets you where you want to go.”

The back door opened. “See?” Aunt Peg said, beaming at the two of us. “I knew you’d find something to talk about. Jane and I had a fine time outside. Now we’re ready to consider having another piece of cake.”

This must be what it feels like to die in slow motion, I thought.

Luckily, Sheila begged off, claiming that she had to get home to her dogs. It was the sort of excuse Peg could understand, so for once, she didn’t argue. After another sliver of cake apiece, Jane and I said good-bye, too.

Aunt Peg walked out with us. “So now you’ve met Sheila. What do you think?”

“I think I’ll make Sam a better wife than she did.”

“Good for you.”

“The two of you seemed to get along pretty well,” I mentioned.

“I was the hostess. That made it my job to get along. Besides . . .” Her eyes glinted wickedly. “Haven’t you ever heard that old saying, ‘Know thine enemy’?”

Good old Aunt Peg. She hadn’t disappointed me after all.

“Thank you for everything,” Jane said to Peg. “I’ll think about what you said.”

I glanced at Aunt Peg, but she shook her head. “That’s between Jane and me, right?”

“Right,” the girl said firmly. She climbed into the car and called Faith up onto her lap, like she’d been doing it all her life.