Love Is for the Birds

4. Jack

JACK CLIMBED INTO THE BACK OF HIS TRUCK AND UNLOCKED his toolbox. He liked the idea of rescuing a dog, especially if the rescue meant an excuse to see Teddy.

“It’s big enough to hold a dead body,” Teddy said, tiptoeing to see inside.

“This should work.” He pulled out a six-foot rope, made a loop for the dog, and jumped out of the bed of the truck. He hated the idea of Teddy spending the night alone in the ruins of her place. “You sure you’ll be all right at your house?”

“No one is left on the island, or haven’t you noticed?”

The people remaining on the island either lived in Bird Isle or operated a business, or they had special permission to enter, like he did, and besides all that, the National Guard checked paperwork. No one passed in or out without a thorough vetting. Still, he hated to think of her alone.

“Just tell me to mind my own business if you want to, but I got to ask. Can’t your boyfriend come down here to help?”

“He’s got his own problems in Houston.”

“Still, what kind of man leaves his girl all alone like this?”

“Excuse me? What do you know about it?” She placed her hands on her hips.

“I really stepped in it, now, didn’t I?” He whistled “How Much is that Doggie in the Window?”

Teddy laughed. “That’s a pathetic whistle.”

“Forget I said anything about your no-good boyfriend.”

She swatted him, but with a smile on her face. Teddy placed a piece of barbecue chicken on the ground a couple feet in front of the dog and then proceeded to make a trail leading to his truck.

“You’ve done this before,” he said.

“Some people might say I do better with animals than people.”

The mutt moved to the first piece of chicken, then the second. When the dog finished the food, Teddy held another slice of chicken in front of the dog’s nose. She slowly released the treat. Steady as she goes.

“You’re brave.” He clenched his teeth.

“Give me the rope,” she said.

He started protesting but seeing the determination in Teddy’s eyes, he decided otherwise and handed her the rope. Teddy slipped the loop over the dog’s neck and led him or her to the next treat.

“You’ve got a friend. It’s time we give him or her a name. How about Rover?”

“It’s a girl.”

He crouched lower to get a peek. “Yep, nothing down here.”

The dog whimpered and tilted her cute-in-an-ugly-sort-of-way head.

“I’m sure we’ll come up with a good name. You going to let her in your fancy truck? She’s kind of ripe.”

“I’ve got just the thing for that.”

He spread a blanket over the back seat of the truck. Teddy walked the dog around the pavilion.

He shouted out to Teddy. “You think someone’s missing her? She seems mighty comfortable on a leash.”

Teddy tossed a piece of chicken in the truck and led the dog to the door. She jumped right in. “I think she’s got a family somewhere. But they may be homeless.”

The dog licked its paws appreciatively as they pulled out of the pavilion parking lot.

“You don’t think this dog will attack you in the middle of the night?”

“You’re asking me this now,” Teddy said, “just when we’ve got her in the cab with us?”

“You seem like an expert. Just double checking. Where will she sleep?”

“I’ll chain her to a piece of trash.”

He jerked his head to Teddy. “You can’t do that.”

“Kiddin’, seriously? You think I would chain up a dog?” She blew out her breath. “Pfft.”

“No, I would never think that.”

He drove at twenty miles an hour, partly because the streets were so cluttered with debris, but mostly because he didn’t want the drive to end.

Teddy rolled down her window and stuck her head out. Her hair flew in the breeze. She moved her hand through the air like a kite.

“Dang!” Teddy pressed the button for the back window, and the dog stuck her nose out of the gap. “I’m sorry, Dog.”

“I like a dog that sticks her head out of the window,” he said.

Teddy laughed, her head still hanging out the window. “You try.”

He stuck his head out the window. The breeze against his face reminded him of his childhood riding around the ranch in the back of a pickup.

“Nice, as long as you don’t get any bugs in your teeth.”

“I suppose Dog should wear goggles. But I’m fresh out.”

The air rushed through the window muffling Teddy’s voice.

“We can think of a better name than Dog.” He watched the dog in his rearview mirror.

“I’m still thinking,” Teddy said. “Dog was not even a suggestion. Just a temporary placeholder.”

“Smokey, Whiskers, Floppy, Pepper—” Jack hoped Teddy would like Smokey.

Teddy slapped a hand on the dashboard. “That’s it.”

“Pepper?”

“No, it’s so obvious.”

Teddy practically bounced from her seat.

“I can’t believe we didn’t think of the name sooner.”

“Something to do with a hurricane?”

“Pickles.” Teddy lifted both hands into the air. “It’s perfect.”

“You’re right. Pickles!”

The dog turned her head and barked.

“She likes that name.” Teddy scratched the dog’s neck. “Don’t you, Pickles?”