To Love and Protect (11 page)

Holding the photo in her hand, Shelley looked up at Marge. "Grace?"

It couldn't be prayer that was responsible for Marge's metamorphosing over the years, Shelley thought.

"The woman Herb had an affair with," Marge said matter-of-factly.

Shelley gingerly placed the picture back on the entertainment center. "Oh..."

"It's okay. I don't mind talking about it. Even though I'm not allowed to in front of Herb."

Shelley drew in a breath. "Yes, well, I can see where that might not be his favorite subject."

"Everything went downhill after that," Marge said, her voice barely a croak. She looked off into space. "Some of my friends told me I was acting crazy and they didn't want to talk to me anymore."

Shelley's sympathy for Marge's plight was matched by her discomfort at hearing such intensely personal revelations. She was beginning to see just how deeply Marge's dysfunction had burrowed. "Marge, have you ever talked to anyone about this? I mean a professional, like a therapist?"

"Herb said they're just for people who are crazy or weak."

Or
who have an ass for a husband.
Shelley bit her tongue.

"We've stayed together because of the boys. But he does his thing and I do mine."

Shelley shook her head. Couldn't Marge see what a drag-down, joyless existence she had created for herself? "Clearly you're unhappy with the life you have with Herb,” she began slowly, choosing her words carefully. “I really think you need to talk to someone at the very least. My sister's a doctor. I'm sure I can get some good recommendations from her."

Marge nodded, her limp, weighed-down hair barely moving with her head. Yet for a moment, Shelley thought she actually saw a glimmer of hope in Marge's usually unexpressive eyes

"Here," she said, handing Marge the class schedule that was folded in her back pocket. "This is the community college course schedule I was telling you about. There are a lot of great classes you could sign up for."

"It's kind of a far bike ride, isn't it?"

"Yes. And that's why you need to sign up first for a driving course so you can get over your fear. Fairfax is too spread-out of a town to rely on a bike to get around."

"But Herb says−"

"To hell with Herb," Shelley exclaimed, almost surprised by her own venom and realizing she needed to ease up a bit. "I mean … don't you think it's time you start doing for yourself so you can have a better life?"

Marge nodded, meekly at first, then with pronounced enthusiasm. "Yeah...yeah! That's right! You. . . you. . . " She paused punching the air with her fist. "You. . . you. . . you go, girlie!!!"

"That's right, Marge.
Girl power!
So the next time I
talk to you, I expect to hear that you've signed up for a
driving course, got it?"
Playing a drill sergeant wasn't first nature to Shelley, but she was doing what had to be done.

"You betcha!" Marge said determinedly.

A few minutes later, as Shelley headed off to Matt's, she laughed at the antics of the three dogs who were thrilled as always to be riding in the truck. But her smile faded as nervous tension gripped her stomach. She glanced repeatedly in the rearview mirror to make sure that no one was following her. How could she have known a couple weeks ago that her life would soon turn into a covert operation? Luckily, the only thing that appeared to be occupying the road with her were a few harvesting squirrels that darted back and forth in front of her truck.

"Sorry guys," she said to the dogs for the third time as she hit the brakes to avoid another squirrel. "I think these squirrels need to join Acorns Anonymous," she observed aloud as yet another one dashed across the road.

But soon, Shelley's thoughts drifted back to Marge. How easy it was for a single life tragedy or disappointment to snuff out one's inner fire, Shelley thought. When Ted died, part of her had died, too. The life they shared, the part of her heart that was his. But she never gave up on life itself. Sometimes, she wondered why she hadn't. It wasn't that her pain was any less than that of someone else who had suffered a tragic loss. But there were others who still needed her around. Her pets, her family, the clinic. And sometimes, deep in the night, when she would wake up in a cold sweat, disoriented and frightened, a small voice inside her told her she would be all right. Just as one moment in time took Ted away from her, another moment would bring something good into her world again. Could it be that such a moment occurred when she first walked into the examining room at the clinic and caught a glimpse of a uniform out of the corner of her eye?

She smiled at the thought, but her smile grew tense as she gripped the steering wheel hard and wondered whether her attraction to Matt was setting her up for another loss. As if sensing her inner turmoil, Dozer suddenly licked the side of her cheek. She laughed and shook her head. "I don't know what I'm going to do without you guys around. This crazy thing better get solved very soon."

Five minutes later, Shelley pulled up to a Cape Cod-style house just outside the town center. Like other homes in the area, it had a good-sized yard, but unlike Shelley's property, there were numerous houses all within sight of each other.

Matt came out of the house before she even had a chance to turn off the engine. "Glad you found my place okay," he said as he walked up to her window.

He was wearing jeans and a police academy sweatshirt, his hair still damp from a shower. As Shelley slid down out of the truck, he walked over to the passenger side and let the dogs out. "I'm being ambushed," he joked as they tumbled over each other to jump on him. "Ever hear of dog obedience school?" he asked with a wide grin.

But Shelley quickly saw that wasn't the only thing on his face. "What happened?" she asked as she looked at the bandage above his left eye.

"This?" he asked, pointing.

"Yes,
that.
Did you get hurt at the tavern last night?"

"Hurt?"

"Am I not speaking your language?" she asked, exasperated. Realizing the harshness of her words, she took a deep breath and tried to smile. Funny how her concern for Matt translated almost into anger, she thought.

Matt stared at her for several moments. "I did get cut last night at the, uh, tavern. But, you know, it's not like it seems."

Shelley viewed him with perplexed eyes. "It
seems
you have a bandage on your head. But you don't?"

Matt sighed. "It's not a big deal, really. In the midst if everything I somehow got a little cut on my head. I'm not even sure how it happened."

Shelley watched him silently for a few moments. She knew he wasn't telling the whole truth − saw it in the way his solid body seem to nevertheless squirm under his clothes − but she decided to let it go. If he was being less than honest, it was because he was trying to protect her. As if feeding on the nervous tension, the dogs continued to jump on Matt.

Shelley managed to smile. "They remember you from the other night, that's for sure."

"I'm surprised, seeing how my attention was on someone else in the house. Especially in that short little skirt she was wearing−"

"It wasn't
that
short," Shelley protested.

Matt smirked. "It could've been down to your ankles and you still would've had my full attention."

"Oh, come on," Shelley sighed, though she was secretly flattered.

"Let's go inside," Matt said as headed up the sidewalk. "I figure the dogs can hang out on this whole first floor.” Once inside, he plopped down the twenty-five-pound bag of dog food that Shelley had grabbed from the back of the truck before he had pulled it out of her arms, ignoring her insistence that she could carry it herself. "You didn't have to bring this,” he said. “I do have dog food, you know."

"But this is what they're used to. Plus it’s the optimal brand for overall health."

"Of course − you know me. I just feed Carly old sneakers and discount bread."

Shelley laughed. "I wasn't trying to say that." She paused. "So what
do
you feed her?"

He opened a floor-level cabinet and pointed to a bag of food identical to Shelley's, only half the size.

"Oops," Shelley allowed. "Uh...good choice." She looked down at the small package in her hand. "Before I forget, these are high-fiber treats for Dozer. He gets two in the morning and two at night, but three's okay if he wants more."

"So he'll tell me if wants more?"

"No, just− " Shelley stopped, then grinned. "Are you making fun of me?"

"Yup.”

"I just wanted to make sure I'm not forgetting anything."

Matt reached over and brushed a long lock of hair away from her eye. "Shelley, relax. They'll be safe here, remember? That's what's important. I know it's not home, but they'll be back soon enough. You'll just have to think of it as a vacation for them with Uncle Matt."

He started to take his hand away from her cheek, but she impulsively took it with her own hand and held it once more against her skin. The warmth of his touch traveled the length of her body, intensifying as he pulled her close and kissed her passionately. As if honing in with some kind of secret canine radar, the three dogs ran back into the kitchen and started barking at Shelley's and Matt's feet.

"Go away, guys," Shelley murmured between breaths.

Rusty latched his teeth onto the leg of Matt's pants and began tugging.

"I think he could potentially be a very effective police dog," Matt noted as he found Shelley's lips once more.

As if to prove him right, Rusty yanked on his jeans with added vigor. "Rusty!" Shelley admonished. "Stop it!"

"And you were saying, Ms. Animal Doctor, that your dogs don't need obedience school?"

Shelley sighed. "I know, I know. They're just a little protective of me, I guess."

He kissed her softly on the forehead. "I don't blame them. Come on, you can come see Carly while you're here. I'll just make sure to walk three feet behind you."

Shelley started up the stairs, with Matt already violating his protocol by putting his arm on the side of her waist.

"I didn't expect your place to be so neat," she observed as they reached the top of the stairs on an equally casual yet clean floor.

Matt laughed. "Oh, really. And why is that?"

"I guess I was just picturing the stereotypical bachelor pad."

"You mean with empty pizza boxes everywhere and a couple of women stashed away in the closet?'

Shelley didn't find his second example too amusing. "Something like that."

"You forget that I had a few hours to straighten things out before you got here."

"Including the women in the closets?"

"Especially the women− "

Shelley playfully smacked him in the ribs.

"Gee," he said, rubbing his side exaggeratedly. "You don't need three dogs for protection. Not with a left hook like that."

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure that hurt," Shelley said, knowing her hand was stinging more than his ribs.

"Here's the patient," Matt said quietly as he opened the door to his bedroom.

Carly looked up from her dog bed, her eyes heavy with sleep. But in a matter of seconds, she roused her head and whimpered excitedly.

"Hi, Sweetie," Shelley said as she knelt beside her. "Look at you!"

Carly licked her hand appreciatively. Shelley looked up at Matt. "I can see you're taking good care of her."