Chapter 1 #2
He returned to the kitchen and set the teapot on a tray that he remembered from years gone by, added two teacups, and carried it all out to where Nan still sat in the same chair, staring off into space.
He worried about her mental state, especially given the sudden circumstances that had changed in her life.
He understood her sentiment about his father.
Wilden had felt the same way many a time, but he needed a whole lot more details before they could figure out what was going on here. He set the tea service beside her and asked, “Which bedroom are you sleeping in?”
She blinked up at him and shook her head, as if trying to assimilate herself back into her surroundings. “The one down here,” she said, with a smile. “I can’t do the stairs anymore.”
He nodded. “And where did my father sleep?”
She shrugged and muttered, “Wherever he wanted. That was part of the problem. He had his room, but then he wanted my master bedroom. It was bigger, and He was the man of the house, so he should have the master.” She sighed.
“I didn’t have the energy to fight him. I was still struggling with the stairs at that point in time. It just seemed … easier.”
Wilden’s jaw worked, but he agreed. “If you can’t do the stairs, are you comfortable down here or is this first-floor bedroom not set up properly for you?”
She studied him and then added, “I could really use some grab bars in the bathroom.”
He frowned at her. “Dad didn’t set things up for you?”
She just stared at him and didn’t say any more.
Wilden sighed, got up, headed to the downstairs bathroom, noted only a tub, not even a shower. So, this setup was completely inadequate for her needs now. She had no grab bars to help her in or out of the tub. A walk-in shower specifically for the handicapped would definitely make it easier on her.
He did a quick tour of the main floor of the house, stepped out on the deck, and then walked back toward her.
She looked up at him. “It hasn’t changed much, has it?”
“Not enough to make you comfortable. So we’ll redo that first-floor bathroom to give you either a shower or some walk-in bathtub.”
She smiled at him and nodded. “That would be lovely. I wanted to do it, but your father stated it was a waste of money.”
“Why would it be a waste of money?” Wilden asked, turning to her.
She frowned, her fingers opening and closing on the Kleenex that she still clutched in her fingers.
“Grandma, why?” he asked, his tone implacable. She glanced up at him, and he could tell she was trying to keep her tears at bay.
“Because I wouldn’t be around long enough to make it worthwhile.”
He stared at her and declared, “Now we know who’s getting the last laugh out of that one.”
Her eyes widened, and a spark of humor lit up her smile and her gaze as she chuckled. “Oh my, I have missed you, boy. You have no idea.”
He reached out a hand and clasped hers in his. “I have missed you too, and we will get that bathroom renovated. I can do the bulk of the work myself,” he declared, as he considered it. “Do we need permits in this town?”
She snorted. “If you need permits, you might as well just buy the chief a case of beer, and that’ll get you a permit just fine.”
“So, things really haven’t changed, have they?”
“Nope. You stay on the good side, and life goes well. You get on their bad side, and life doesn’t go very well.”
“And did you get off on their bad side?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t.”
Of course his father had. Just then Wilden’s phone rang. He looked down at a number he didn’t recognize, but he answered it anyway.
“Hey, this is Dr. Lee from the Valley Veterinarian Clinic,” she began in a perky tone. “I was speaking to your cohort Kat … something.” She tried to come up with the last name but gave up.
He wouldn’t waste time supplying irrelevant information. “Yeah, that’s my boss.”
“Oh, good. She told me that you were coming to check on the K9.”
“Yes, I just landed about an hour ago,” he replied.
A noisy exhale of breath revealed a lot about what she was going through with Sarge. “Thank you. That is huge.”
“I’ll come by the clinic soon.”
“Is there any chance I can get you to come to the clinic right now?”
“What’s up?”
“Sarge is acting very weird. I don’t want to sedate him because I assume there’s a reason for his actions, but it’s getting to be too much to deal with.”
In the background, Wilden heard a dog caterwauling and barking. “Is that him?” he asked.
“Yes. That’s him,” she confirmed. “And it’s upsetting the rest of my patients. Plus anybody who comes here to get care for their pets are wondering about the constant noise.”
“Of course, and an unhappy dog doesn’t exactly inspire a vote of confidence. I’m not that far from you. I can be there in about thirty minutes or so. How’s that?”
“Perfect,” she replied and then ended the call.
He looked over at his grandmother and asked, “Are you okay if I bring the dog here?”
She shrugged. “Sure, a dog’s a dog, but if it’s Jackson’s dog—”
“Exactly,” Wilden agreed. “If it’s his dog, I may need to take Sarge to Jackson’s place to see if Sarge and I can figure out where Jackson is.”
“Then that’s what you need to do,” she declared, as she picked up the teacup and had a sip.
Then she shook her head and added, “So much has changed so quickly that I’m a little befuddled.
Yet it’s such a blessing, and I’m so happy to have you home again.
” She took another sip and added, “Even if it’s just long enough to help Jackson. ”
“Let’s hope that he doesn’t need help,” Wilden added, with a smile. “Does he have dementia or any of the age-related memory issues?”
“I don’t know,” she shared, as she shook her head. “I haven’t seen him in quite a few years now. I think the last time I saw him, he was out shopping, and I crossed paths with him. He was in a wheelchair, but he was doing okay. And he looked good.”
“Right.” Which of course didn’t tell him anything.
She pointed at him and said, “Go on now. Do what you have to do.”
“You don’t want me to stay?”
“I do, but I also know you. You won’t even enjoy your tea. You’ll sit here and fuss and worry until you go.”
He smiled, hopped to his feet, and said, “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be home soon.”
She smiled up at him in delight. “I promise that I’m not going anywhere.
Too many good days are ahead of me right now to kick the bucket,” she declared, a smile on her face.
“Not so long ago, I was hoping to not wake up every morning. But, with him gone and now with you here, everything has changed.”
Dr. Vivian Lee looked out the window several times, hating that she was as impatient as a two-year-old, waiting for somebody to come help her with this dog.
You are a veterinarian after all. You can handle a dog.
With a shake of her head, she walked back in to talk to Sarge, and he started barking and howling again, scratching at the door to his cage.
She bent down to try to calm him. And he did for a little bit, but the whining just wouldn’t stop.
Thankfully everybody else had gone from the clinic, and she had no animals staying here either.
So it was just Sarge and her right now. She wanted to take him outside, but she also knew that he was big and strong and not at all interested in behaving. He was on a mission. She just didn’t know what that mission was. And that was the part that bothered her.
Something was really bothering Sarge.
It was just so hard to figure out what was wrong and what to do about it. Suddenly Vivian heard someone call out from the front. Sarge froze, and then started barking like crazy. She called out, “I’ll be right there.”
Then came laughter, and a man walked around the corner into the back offices. He added, “I don’t need directions with all the barking. Sounds as if you have your hands full.”
“It’s obvious, huh?”
He looked at the dog, and his smile fell away as he stared at him. Then he gave Sarge a series of commands, not harsh but with a bit of a clip to them.
Sarge sat up, at attention, quiet, yet his tail wagged like crazy.
Vivian frowned from one to the other. “If I had known about just that one simple command, it would have made my life a whole lot easier.”
He smiled at her and nodded. “Do you mind opening the cage?”
“Are you sure?” She was well and truly worried. “He’s big, strong, and not necessarily interested in obeying.”
“He’ll obey,” the man confirmed. “I promise it’ll be fine.”
Hesitating, but aware that this stranger had shown more control over Sarge than anybody else so far, she opened the cage.
The newcomer gave another command to the dog. Although quivering with excitement, Sarge didn’t move until given yet another command to release him from his motionless pose.
The dog leaped forward, jumping up to greet him.
Vivian asked the man, “Do you know him?”
“No, but I have worked with lots of these War Dogs,” he shared, as he gave the animal a good welcome and a cuddle. “I don’t know this one in particular, but I do know how he was trained.”
“And I can’t imagine that Mr. Russell would have let anything happen to this animal. And he certainly wouldn’t have done anything to himself if he hadn’t given Sarge to somebody to care for him.”
He looked from her to the K9, noting the War Dog was behaving well. “This is Sarge, right?”
“Yes, Sarge is the name on his collar, and it matched with the info on his chip,” she replied, with great relief.
At the mention of his name, Sarge barked at her several times, as if to say, I told you.
I told you, and she laughed. “He’s most definitely a different breed.
He even has a different tempo to his bark right now. ”
The man smiled. “Probably because he thinks somebody can understand him now, but it’s obvious that he’s on a mission to do something.”