28. Jack
JACK LOADED A BOTTLE OF RED WINE, A WEDGE OF DILL Havarti, an aged gruyère, and a box of crackers into a bag with glasses, napkins, and a knife. He wanted Teddy to see he knew more about food than just barbecue. A little class always worked in the movies.
He pulled up to Sweet Somethings, hurried inside, and found Teddy counting the days’ receipts. “From that smile, I see you must have had a good day,” Jack said.
“Two hundred dollars.”
“Where you taking me?”
She laughed. “Tomorrow this goes straight to the bank.”
Teddy drove to the mainland for a functioning bank. Maybe he could help with the banking. Pops wouldn’t want her spending the night alone with cash in the house. At least she had Pickles to protect her.
“I’ve got wine.” He lifted the happy hour items. “Shall we go outside and watch the sunset?”
Teddy put her money bag in the drawer and locked the shop. “Remind me to take that with me when we leave.”
“I’ve decided to become a surfer,” Jack announced as they walked to the beach.
“That so?”
“Totally, mon.” Jack said.
“When is this happening?”
“Not telling. I don’t want you to laugh at me.”
“I would never do that.” Teddy’s face turned serious. “I know how hard surfing is. I hope you’ve been doing your cardio.”
He jogged regularly with Pickles. Surely the conditioning would pay off.
“Anyway, good for you. Seriously, who, what, when?”
“Walt’s teaching me.”
Teddy smiled. “You’re just giving him business, aren’t you?”
He rocked his head from side to side. “Not really. I do want to embrace my inner surfer.” He positioned the beach chairs, so they faced the trajectory of the setting sun.
Down the beach, another couple walked along the otherwise deserted shore. A wave broke to their feet, and they rushed away. The woman stopped to examine her jeans.
Jack pulled a silver dollar from his pocket. Wainsworth had left the good luck charm when he opened his second restaurant in Fredericksburg. The rancher always made sure that Jack had the best beef at a fair price, and when Angela died, Pops always encouraged him to keep going.
Pickles politely stared at the shining coin as if about to bite into a juicy bone. Jack snagged a piece of trash, examined the wood for nails, and then tossed the board to Pickles. Then, he searched for the couple again. He spotted them walking up a path to the street, her hand in his, his hand in hers.
“Do you know them?” He pointed to the couple. They appeared to be about fifty, maybe older, but he sensed they were young at heart by the way they held each other and the smiles on their faces, even though they were literally walking through a disaster zone.
“I think they live in one of those pastel houses.” She pointed to a new development of vacation rentals. “They fared the storm quite well.” Teddy turned to examine the rest of the beach. “Considering.”
Pickles returned with the board and placed the splintery wood on top of Jack’s flip-flops. “This is why I always wear boots.”
Teddy laughed. “You can’t wear boots on the beach. It’s a state law.”
“No, it’s not.”
“It should be.”
“I wonder where she learned to fetch.” He tossed the board again.
Teddy pointed to Pickles and laughed. “That board is too long for her.”
“She’s got some power in those jaws.”
This time Pickles dropped the board in front of Teddy and sat, obviously waiting for some recognition. Teddy gushed over her. “She’s a very smart dog. They just know these things.”
“I think someone had to teach her.”
Teddy shrugged. “Maybe so.”
“I guess I should have posted a sign or something.”
“I’ve been checking the lost and found board at the community center—nothing. But that’s okay. I’m happy to take care of her.” Teddy scratched Pickles on the belly. “You love a good belly rub, don’t you Pickles?”
“She’s very attached to you.”
“I used to love those Disney movies about dogs that traveled across the United States to find their owners,” Teddy said. “Did you ever see that Richard Gere movie about Hachi the Akita? The most faithful dog in the world.”
“You mean Lassie.”
“No. Hachi is a true story. Pickles is every bit as smart as Hachi, now aren’t you, Pickles?” Pickles barked. Teddy rewarded her with a piece of cheese.
Jack cringed. “That’s an aged gruyère.”
“Oh, excusez moi, monsieur .”
“She was mighty hungry the night Jimbo found her at the barbecue. If we hadn’t had the pickle crisis, we might have named her something stupid.”
“Pickles is not a stupid name. It’s the perfect name for her.” Teddy sipped her wine. “It’s original. She helped me get through this hurricane.” Teddy placed a hand on Jack. “You did as well.”
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“ Awww. You’re not so bad. And now that you’re taking up surfing, you’ll be irresistible. Girls go mad for surfers.” Teddy flashed a smile. “You can teach Pickles to ride the board with you.”
“Now you’re getting ahead of yourself.”