Chapter 10
It was peculiar that an object possessed the ability to resurrect the dead.
Well, more like the ghost. Standing before the box marked Arlo in bold Sharpie, the hairs along my neck rose and my heart sped up.
With shaky hands, I pried the flaps open and moved the container of paintbrushes to the side.
Underneath it was an unfinished drawing of a woodland fairy.
Maybe one day I’d finish it and give it to Fern, but today I just wanted a part of him I could carry closely.
I lifted his blue trucker hat from the box and brought it to my nose, breathing in the satisfying combination of earthy acrylic paint and apple-scented shampoo.
“Happy birthday, Arlo.” He would have turned twenty-seven today. It seemed so cruel that he didn’t get to.
No matter how bad our last years together were, his escalating drug problem and our financial difficulties, I truly loved him and I had no doubt he loved me. He always had my back, that I could depend on.
One of the last times I remembered Arlo wearing this hat, he was taking up for me.
Some random guy at a bar said I looked like a Lainey Wilson reject, with my bell-bottoms and cropped top.
Arlo didn’t take kindly to it, shoving him against the wall.
We ended up being kicked out after he threw a few punches.
That was Arlo, a mess of a man, but he’d been mine.
Now that he was gone . . . alone in this, I’d have to take care of myself.
Sometimes my grief snuck up and expanded like a deep breath, filling my chest with sharp pain instead of oxygen. I held the hat to my face and allowed myself a moment to mourn.
“Get it together, girl.” Adjusting the strap, I situated the hat on my head and slid my long braid over my shoulder. Dressed for work in an oversized T-shirt and leggings, I fastened the pack around my waist and got on with it.
I picked up Poe, situated him in his little stroller, and began walking down the street. We made it about a half mile when I noticed a black Corvette coming down the road. It came to a stop and then the driver’s window silently rolled down.
“Not now, Gilly. I’m working.” I lifted a hand from the handle and waved goodbye. “You’ll have to come back and test me later.”
The window rolled up and the car accelerated. A few minutes passed and then I heard someone walking up behind me in a clipped pace. Steeling myself, I peeked over my shoulder and caught sight of my probation officer trucking it. I stopped until he caught up.
“I thought you were walking dogs, not babysitting.”
Poe yapped, as if offended for being mistaken for something cute and cuddly.
Gilbert leaned close to the mesh covering and narrowed his eyes. “That’s one ugly dog.”
“Don’t be rude, Gil. We don’t want to hurt his feelings,” I joked. “It’s always a pleasure to see you, but I’m on the clock.”
“Lead the way.” Gilbert motioned for me to move.
I side-eyed his leather dress shoes. The first day I walked dogs I made the mistake of wearing my Birkenstocks, thinking for sure a ten-year-old pair of sandals had to be broken in plenty enough.
My beloved shoes failed me, but my sneakers got the job done.
I figured it was only polite to warn him. “Your feet are going to hurt.”
“No they won’t. These are orthopedics.”
I slowed the stroller and squinted at his fancy shoes. “I’ve never seen old man shoes look that nice.”
He dismissed my silly comment with a wave of his hand. It was getting harder and harder to rile him up. “How’s it been going?”
“Okay, but man, am I so ready to get Fern back.”
“When do you plan on trying to regain custody?”
“I’d go pick her up today if Cy would agree to it.”
“Can you afford to take care of her if he did agree?”
“Money is pretty tight, but with some time and effort, I think I can grow my hat and jewelry business to make enough to support Fern and myself.” I huffed, nearly growling. “I just want to see her, but Cy is all about keeping her away from me until I can prove I can stay clean.”
“I know it’s tough, kid, but maybe you should try changing your perspective. You’ve been given a chance to get your life straightened out while your daughter is being well taken care of.”
“I’m not trying to sound like an ungrateful brat, it’s just .
. .” I adjusted Arlo’s hat, pulling the bill further down to hide the tears filling my eyes.
I wanted to cry out and tell Gilbert I was lonely, that today was my dead husband’s birthday, and a drink sure sounded good at the moment, but I didn’t want to sound like that brat nor did I want to worry him. “It’s just hard, ya know?”
“I do know, to an extent. You want to talk about it?”
“Nah. There’s no fun in it.”
We moved along the sidewalk for a small stretch, sidestepping other pedestrians every so often.
“What have your days been looking like?” Gilbert asked, breaking the silence.
Him changing the subject felt much like a gift, so I happily filled him in.
“Mornings are busy with walking the dogs. I’ve attended a few online AA meetings.
When I’m not doing either of those, I’m making custom hats and jewelry.
” I veered around a sectioned-off area of the sidewalk under repair.
“I’m looking at renting a booth at the farmer’s market.
It’s every Thursday until the end of June.
I know I only have a month to participate, but if that goes well, I’ll look at booth spaces at other local markets and festivals. ”
Gilbert grunted. “Okay. And what are you doing for fun?”
I laughed but with a quick glance at his flat expression, I realized he was serious. “What?”
“Fun. You just said there’s no fun in talking about your situation, so what is fun for you?”
I slowed, checking for traffic, then crossed the street. “I don’t think fun fits into the equation at the moment.”
“Fun is a part of life and last I checked you’re still living.”
Arlo popped into my head. The birthday boy no longer living who lived to have fun. My throat tightened.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Poe let out a string of high-pitched yaps. I stopped the stroller and placed a small amount of water in his portable water bowl.
“That rat is spoiled rotten. You his personal servant?”
“For one hour, three days a week, I am.” I placed the bottle into the cupholder and started walking again. I’d hoped the little yapper’s interruption had distracted Gilbert from the conversation. I didn’t want to share Arlo’s birthday with anyone, just wanted to keep it to myself.
“You remember what Maren talked about at the meeting, right? About taking care of herself so she could take better care of her children?”
“Please don’t start with me today.” I rolled my neck and looked heavenward.
“It’s my job. Sorry.” Gilbert reached over and took the stroller, popping it on the back two wheels, as if Poe was the kind for excitement. The little thing yapped a happy yap, so maybe he was. “Your assignment this afternoon is to take a fun break.”
I shoved my hat lower and snorted. “What exactly is a fun break?”
“Have you enjoyed the beach since arriving?” He set the front wheels back on the sidewalk and continued pushing.
“I take some of the dogs for walks there, yes.”
Gilbert shook his head. “You mean to tell me in the five weeks you’ve been here you ain’t sunbathed or took a dip in the surf just for fun?”
I studied my shoes, letting my silence be the answer.
“Okay, here’s your homework assignment. Once you’re finished with the dogs, you’re to spend the rest of the day relaxing on the beach. Take a book if you want, or meditate, or sleep. But remember sunblock.”
The thirty-minute timer on my phone went off, so I took over the stroller and turned around to head back in the other direction. “I get antsy. Not sure I can manage the whole afternoon.”
“Just do your best. You need more time out of the house.” Gilbert gave me another grandfatherly shoulder pat. “We both know isolation doesn’t play well with alcoholism. It’s triggering.”
“Oh, the triggers . . .” I groused. “My life will never be free of those, will they?”
“Probably not, but if you keep focused on HALT, it’ll get easier to manage them.” Gilbert checked his phone, then returned it to his pocket.
“Hungry. Angry. Lonely. Tired.” I rattled off the acronym like a good student. “Okay, Gilly. I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all I ask. You’re doing great, kid. Just gotta keep it that way.”
We parted ways once we reached his car and then I dropped off Poe. Next, I walked Winston and Jazzy. The day had heated up to uncomfortable. Drenched in sweat and sand, a dip in the ocean started sounding rather appealing.
I handed Jazzy off to her owners and walked the block to Winston’s home. I knocked on the door and a moment later, Alden opened it.
“Hi, Junie. How’d it go?”
“Great. I gave him water but with this heat, he may need some more.”
Winston barked in agreement and offered Alden his paw as if he’d been asked to perform the cute trick.
Alden laughed, holding his palm up to receive the sweet gesture. “It’s going to be hard to give him back at the end of the summer.”
“What do you mean?” Did he share custody with an ex?
“My sister works at an animal shelter. She kept on until I agreed to foster Winston for the summer. My wife and I travel so much for work, it’s not feasible to be full-time dog owners.” Alden shrugged.
I glanced at the happy pooch, feeling right sorry for him. I knew how it felt to not have anyone claim you. Too bad I was in no place to claim him.
“Here.” Alden turned toward the entry table and picked up a stack of cash. He held it out to me. “Thanks for walking him.”
I stared at the money, knowing from other paydays it would be my fee plus a twenty-dollar tip. “No . . . If you’re fostering Winston, then the least I could do is walk him for you.”
“But this is your job, right?” Alden held the money a little closer, still trying to get me to take it.