Anchored

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Maple

“We listen and we don’t judge,” I say calmly for the tenth time.

The multicolored Lhasa apso on the other end of my screen tilts her head to the side. To the outside observer, my furry friend looks like the cutest little puffball of fur you’ve ever seen. To the trained eye I’ve developed over the years of counseling canines, I can see the devil behind those dark eyes.

“It was just such a hard breakup, and I feel like Buttercup isn’t being understanding enough. I can’t go for walks when my face is splotchy and my mascara is running.” My not-so-furry client also on the screen gives a dramatic sniff.

I nod sympathetically. I’ve been through one of those bad breakups myself. I understand how many boxes of tissues a girl can go through in those early days.

“Janessa, would you mind if I speak to Buttercup alone for a few minutes?”

Janessa, who has a startling array of blingy diamonds just on the top half of her body that I can see on the screen, gives me a nod, kisses Buttercup on the head, and leaves the room. The dog whines and lies down, her paws filling the screen right before her tiny snout lies on top, her dark eyes drilling into my soul. I know what she’s thinking. Her owner goes through a breakup every other month. At this rate, Buttercup will never get walked.

“I think we both know what needs to happen here, B. You gotta give a little to get a little.” My voice is soft and soothing, the same tone I perfected when I used to teach yoga classes. Maybe it’s the slight rasp. Maybe it’s a pheromone that can be detected through thousands of miles. Maybe it’s some as of yet undiscovered thing in the human experience, but animals fucking love me. Every single one flocks to me like I’m fucking Snow White dancing in the forest.

Buttercup whines again, but it’s a relenting whine.

“You need to snuggle up to her, lick her tears, and then the second the sobs end, you race over to the door. Do that move where you turn in a circle and sploot. She can’t resist it. In fact, show me your move right now. Let’s practice. Sploot, Buttercup!”

She responds to the excitement in my voice and springs into action to show off her maneuver. It really is adorable.

“Perfection!”

We end the call a few minutes later when Janessa—my highest-paying celebrity client to date—comes back in the room. I watch the screen go dark and lean back on my ergonomic chair with a deep, satisfied sigh. It feels good to know I’m helping my furry friends and their owners have the best relationship possible, even if pet psychologist wasn’t the career I planned to have as a fully grown thirty-two-year-old woman.

My phone rings and I frown at the area code. It’s someone from Anchor Lake calling. I snatch it up and answer before it goes to a second ring. The only person I know in Anchor Lake is Grandma Gracie. My heart thunders as I say hello.

A pleasant male voice is on the other end. “Is this Maple Thatcher?”

“It is,” I answer quickly, forgetting all about the rules for single women and giving out their identity.

“This is Doctor Ahmed, from Anchor Lake. I just had an appointment with Gracie Thatcher and you’re listed as her first point of contact.”

My brain feels jumbled. Dad has always been the point of contact for Grandma Gracie’s care. Did Grandma fire Dad? And if so, why didn’t Dad or Grandma say anything about this?

“Yes, I’m her granddaughter. Is she okay?” I stand quickly, the chair rolling back behind me.

“She took a bit of a fall in the middle of the night. Sunny Shores Retirement Home called me in this morning to give her a thorough exam. She has a nice goose egg on the back of her head, but she appears to otherwise be in good shape.”

Breath whooshes out of my lungs. “Thank God.”

“Yes, but what I’m calling for is about her cognitive ability. Doctor Johnson was treating her for dementia before he retired and left the practice. I have to say, after my examination this morning, I’m not sure if she’s suffering from a slight concussion from the fall or if her dementia is more advanced than Doctor Johnson first realized.”

“Dementia?” I pace the living room in my condo in Charlotte. I’m just a few hours away from Anchor Lake, yet the helplessness makes me feel like I’m a few planets away. “I don’t recall Dad mentioning that Grandma Gracie has dementia.”

I can hear beeps and voices on the other end of the line. The new doctor clears his throat and his words are far more rushed now. “Well, be that as it may, Gracie Thatcher is suffering from some decline. I think someone from the family should come check on her as soon as possible. We may need to make a few decisions about her level of care soon. Sunny Shores has higher-level-care rooms available, but the family will need to be involved in that decision.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” My mouth is saying things, but my brain is still trying to catch up. “I’ll, um, talk to the family and see if we can get someone out there as soon as possible.”

“Sounds good. I’ll be in touch.” And then Doctor Ahmed hangs up, leaving me staring at my phone.

My thumbs are quivering with worry as I type out a text to the family group chat.

Me: Grandma Gracie had a fall last night. The doctor says we should get out there and check on her. Something about her dementia being more advanced??

My older brother, Toby, is the first to respond. Probably because his cell phone is surgically attached to his palm. He’s an ass-kisser who graduated from college and joined Dad in his law firm like the silver-spooned, country club douchebag that he is. Okay, that’s a bit harsh. He’s not a bad guy, per se, he and I have just never understood each other.

Toby: Can’t do it. Got a murder case I’m working on.

I roll my eyes. He’s always got some uber important case he’s working on.

Mom: You know I’d go, but I have three interns shadowing me on that glioblastoma surgery tomorrow.

At this rate, I’ll give myself a headache with all the eye rolls. Of course Mom’s busy. She’s the most sought-after neurosurgeon in North Carolina. Dad, the head lawyer at the firm, doesn’t even bother answering my text. Instead, the ass-kisser of the family takes care of it.

Toby: Dad’s in a meeting right now and he’s the head lawyer for the murder case. No way we can spare him. Can’t you go, Mapes?

I hate the way he’s always shortened my name. I also hate the way my ultra successful, type A family makes me feel like a loser in comparison. I’m a college dropout, talking to dogs about their feelings, while my family is singlehandedly saving the world.

Toby: Hey, while you’re here. We need someone part-time to comb through some records before a court hearing. Want the job?

I huff out my frustration to my empty condo. No matter how many times I describe my job to them, they refuse to acknowledge that it’s a valid career. Sure, it’s unconventional, but I make good money! A curt reply is the best I’ve got right now.

Me: No. I’m going to see Grandma Gracie.

Thing is, though, I’d love to go see Grandma Gracie. I haven’t seen her in far too long. As the only person in my family who’s ever understood me, or encouraged me to chase my alternative career, she holds a special place in my heart. I just haven’t made time to see her because then I’d have to explain that my ex-fiancé and I broke up. She was so happy when I visited two years ago and showed her my lab-grown engagement ring. I just haven’t been able to bring myself to dash her excitement.

But desperate times call for family to show up.

And since the rest of my family is too busy, it falls on my shoulders.

I don’t bother texting back my timeline for visiting her. They just assume I’ll fall in line like I always do. Tell Maple to jump and she’ll ask how high. On that depressing note, I dial Grandma’s direct line to her independent-living condominium within Sunny Shores. She answers after the fourth ring, her voice thinner and weaker than normal.

“Hello?”

“Grandma Gracie? It’s Maple.”

“Oh, darling!” Grandma must have the phone pressed to her chin, which means her voice is now muffled and barely audible.

“Hold the phone in front of your mouth, Grandma,” I say loudly, even though she’s never been hard of hearing.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” Now her voice is booming. I have to hold the phone away from my head or risk eardrum damage. “I’m so glad you called, Maple, darling. You know I fell down last night? It was so silly. I was trying to find that dang chocolate bar I hid from myself. Caught my slipper on the edge of the rug in front of the kitchen sink and down I went!”

“I did hear about that. Doctor Ahmed called me.”

“He’s such a dear. Not as nice as Doctor Johnson, but still good. He told me that I better start making my final arrangements!”

My jaw drops. “What? No, I didn’t get that impression at all. He did say he wanted me to come visit you though.”

Grandma’s voice is muffled again. She must have dropped the phone to her chin again. “At my age, you just never know, darling. I mit bo at nee dim.”

“Grandma. Put the phone to your mouth, please.”

“Maple, darling?” Her voice is a thousand decibels again. “Did you hear I fell last night?”

I’m rubbing my forehead so hard I’m sure it’s bright red. This call has solidified things in my brain. “Yes, Grandma. I heard. I’m coming to see you tomorrow!”

“You are? Oh, good. You can stay with me at the cabin like you always did over the summers. Won’t that be fun? We can cook s’mores and jump in the lake like we used to. You can stay all summer!”

I nod slowly, the realization of the dementia diagnosis finally sinking in. She hasn’t lived at her cabin for five years. Not since she moved into Sunny Shores. She never sold the cabin, insisting any of us could use it for vacations, but no one in this family would think about taking time off work. I go on vacations, but haven’t lately. Not since Dexter and I broke up. I’ve buried myself in work and adding to the tattoo on my back when I feel rebellious.

“Okay, Grandma. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“You bet, darling! I’ll go get some groceries and get the blowup mattress ready for you!” She pauses, her voice low and even when she comes back on the line. “I’ve missed you so much, Maple of mine.”

It’s the nickname that gets me. She used to call me that all the time growing up. Every summer I’d go stay with her in Anchor Lake and those fleeting months of fireflies and canoeing and crackling bonfires were the highlight of my year. When I think back on the best parts of my childhood, I fall right back into that place. Into her.

“I love you too, Grandma Gracie,” I manage to respond before hanging up.

I tap my phone against my hand, heart heavy, but my brain full of memories that make me smile. Spending the summer in Anchor Lake? That isn’t what I had planned, but I can work from anywhere. What’s stopping me from spending another summer in my favorite place with my favorite person? I’ll just rip the Band-Aid off and tell Grandma that Dexter cheated on me. We can set his memory ablaze in a bonfire behind her cabin. Hell, if her dementia is as advanced as I fear it might be, maybe she won’t even remember him in the first place.

With my plans set, I race to my bedroom to pack.

Maple’s Twelfth Year Around the Sun Journal

(20 years ago)

I KISSED A BOY.

Ahh! There. I said it. Wrote it actually, but who cares?

I found the bonfire tonight. They think they’re so clever moving the location every night, but anyone with a nose could find them, including the police. But no one ever busts it up. Hardly anyone was drinking, and I certainly wasn’t! Grandma Gracie would kill me if I came home drunk. She’d have to tell Dad and he’d make me come home for the rest of the summer. Probably enroll me in some stupid science camp.

Anyway, I found the bonfire on the south side of the lake, just ten houses down from Grandma’s cabin. They were tucked away in that little alcove where I’ve hidden when we play hide-and-seek, but I found them! I walked right in like I belonged there. I learned that move from Toby. He meant it more for walking into a classroom with confidence, but bonfires held by my peers works too.

Holt was standing right by the fire, a Dr. Pepper in his hand. He was talking to some girl I didn’t know. I grabbed a Pepsi from the cooler and held my hand out to the fire like I was cold. Mostly I just wanted to hear what they were talking about. The girl was going on and on about her stupid Usher tickets, like she was trying to work up the nerve to ask Holt to go with her to the concert. He kept fidgeting with his jeans. They looked like they were about to fall down. I would have died if they did! Can you imagine??

Anyway, one of her friends came over and told her to come grab a beer and play spin the bottle. Holt turned her down when she tried to get him to join them. I liked that about him. Every time I’ve seen him, he never has an alcoholic drink in his hand. I didn’t know if he has something against beer or maybe he just doesn’t like how it makes the sky spin, like it did to me when I drank it. Thank God Grandma Gracie had already been asleep that night. I swore never to drink after that.

Holt looked up as the girl walked away, his gaze locking with mine. His blue eyes were almost too pretty. If he didn’t have glasses on, he’d be so handsome I couldn’t talk to him. He smirked at me and walked closer.

“You’re Maple, right?”

I nodded. My stupid tongue wouldn’t work. It was like I had cotton in my mouth.

“Not a fan of spin the bottle?” he asked.

I tried to lick my lips. His eyes dropped to my mouth and I tucked my tongue away quickly. “Um. No. I, uh…” Jeez. This was bad. He was going to think I’m an idiot.

He must have taken pity on me. “I don’t want my first kiss to be because of a stupid kids’ game, you know?”

My mouth dropped open. “Yes! Exactly!”

His cheeks were red. “You haven’t had your first kiss either?”

I shook my head so violently, my hair must have been a blonde mess of tangles around my face. Holt’s finger tapped the side of his can of soda. Over and over. I swallowed, and I swear it was louder than the crickets chirping.

“Do you…”

“Do I what?” I managed to say.

He looked down at his feet and then up at me, his cheeks even redder. “Want to kiss me?”

I swear my brain exploded. I couldn’t even form words. I just nodded.

And then…the most incredible thing happened!!!

Holt leaned in and put his lips on mine. I was so shocked I gasped and our lips moved against each other. My eyes slammed shut. Everything went all tingly, from my head to my toes. His hand came up and cupped my cheek. I shifted my head and leaned forward, wanting more. Or to get closer or something.

But then the worst thing happened!!!

I bumped his glasses and they fell off. He broke off the kiss and my eyes flew open to see his glasses in the dirt at our feet. He bent to pick them up, and I felt so bad! He was clearly mad. He wouldn’t even look at me. He just picked up his glasses and walked away.

I was SO embarrassed!

I tried to look around to see if anyone saw us, but everyone was over by the group doing spin the bottle. I don’t think anyone saw our kiss. My fingertips touched my lips. I felt dazed. Like this soda was actually a beer and all the alcohol had gone straight to my head.

I screamed inside my head, both elated and embarrassed.

Holt gave me my first kiss!!!