Holiday Homecoming. Pamela Tracy
the next few months if you want to get better, Ray.”
To Meredith, Doc Thomas said, “His ankle’s fine. I took an X-ray of his spine, though, and I didn’t like what I saw. You watch him close. If he slows down anymore—” both of them looked at Grandpa, who was still settling himself into a comfortable position “—I want you to get him into Adobe Hills and to a specialist. I know he has an appointment in January, but it would be good if you can get him in earlier. If he’s to keep living on the farm in the middle of nowhere, he has to be able to walk—no matter how slowly.”
Doc Thomas said a few more things, mentioned rehabilitation and even surgery.
“I can walk,” Grandpa groused.
“At the moment,” Doc Thomas said so softly that only Meredith heard. His expression told Meredith a diagnosis she wasn’t ready to hear.
Yes, he was eighty-two, but, well, he was Grandpa. The thread that held the family together in so many ways.
As they drove home, he was quiet, too quiet, not even commenting on her driving. Usually he held on to the door handle and commented, “How fast are you going?”
Meredith kept shooting him glances, hoping he’d open up, tell her she was driving too fast or something. When he didn’t, she tried talking to him. “Do we need to fill a prescription?”
He nodded.
“You want to do that now?”
He shook his head.
She’d been communicating with animals for years now—spent more time with them than people, really—and was used to figuring out problems without the exchange of words. But Grandpa was about as easy to read as a hedgehog.
Either he was overly tired or something had upset him. Or maybe it was a combination of both.
“I just want to get home, Merry.”
When they finally got to the farm, she helped him out, opened his walker and then followed behind him as he walked unsteadily to the front door. Pepper came limping from the side of the house, greeting them with a wiggling body. Then, with doggy wisdom, he slowed down even more to walk sedately beside Grandpa.
Grandpa didn’t even acknowledge him.
But she knew something was really wrong when he walked past the television and went into his bedroom and shut the door, leaving both Pepper and her in the living room.
Meredith tried to soothe Pepper. “Come on, boy. I really need you with me, and Grandpa wants time alone.” She spent the rest of the late afternoon and evening walking Grandpa’s land. She found the remnants of a tree house and an old shoe that had probably belonged to Zack. By the time she headed back to Grandpa’s, melancholy had set in. She’d started off looking for the wolf dog but, if she were honest, she’d ended up looking for Jimmy.
She just wasn’t sure which Jimmy she was searching for, though: the idealistic boy from her youth or the man from yesterday who asked too many probing questions.
“DADDY, I REALLY need a Rainbow Loom,” Briana said Thursday morning as Jimmy drove her to school. “And not for Christmas. I have to get it before then.”
He had no clue what a Rainbow Loom was. “You need it for school?”
His daughter looked at him in disbelief. She’d been in school for just a couple of weeks and already she had a list of things a girl simply must have. He should have waited until after Christmas to enroll her.
“No, it’s this thing that makes bracelets out of rubber bands. I could make you a bracelet, maybe a million, and in your favorite color. You could wear them to work. I could even, if I hurried, make one for Aunt Holly and the bridesmaids for her wedding.”
“We’ll see,” he said.
“The bracelets could be my wedding present to Uncle Danny’s new wife.”
Briana was the flower girl, and she was taking her role seriously.
“We’ll see,” he repeated.
Briana rolled her eyes in a very adult manner. She had quickly learned that “We’ll see” meant her father had no clue what she was asking and was not about to commit.
Gesippi Elementary School was situated behind the courthouse. A two-story redbrick building, it housed grades kindergarten through eight. Briana was well aware that she’d missed out on some important first-grade girl fads as well as all the kindergarten ones. She’d been schooled, for the last year, by Jimmy and by his coworkers. All adults. Consequently, she could read and write and knew how many still pictures it took to achieve one second of video. She could also help out with a Foley session, use a pocketknife and climb trees like a pro. But none of these accomplishments helped her fit in with six-year-old girls, so she was making up for lost time.
“Grab your backpack,” he told Briana as he entered the school circle. He might have only started doing this a few weeks ago, but he knew the drill. When it was his turn to pull up to the curb in front of the school, Briana needed to jump out and Jimmy needed to move on. There were cars behind him and slow parents were frowned upon.
Once Briana was safely dropped off, he headed to the diner. He wanted to sit by himself, drink coffee and do some more research on his laptop for his pitch to Thom.
The wolf dog photos he’d found so far on the internet made him want one; the stories he was reading convinced him not to.
It had been a long time since Jimmy had felt a real connection to the animal he was covering. For the last few years, he’d been more concerned about the set—be it studio or in the wild—than about the animal.
Hopefully, his passion for this subject would put him back on his game. Sometimes, late at night, he worried that writing articles and putting together documentaries was the only thing he was good at.
He’d not been the best husband.
He’d have to try a lot harder to be the best dad.
If he failed at this documentary, too... No, not happening.
What he needed to do to strengthen the proposal for his boss was to meet a wolf dog. He’d prefer to meet the one from Tuesday night. But first he had to find her.
No one had reported a wolf dog missing, at least not that he could find. Meredith had been optimistic when she’d speculated that the wolf dog had escaped by accident, but they both knew it was more likely that she had become too much of a handful for her owners and been abandoned.
As he drove through downtown Gesippi, he called the number he and Agatha had found for the man who sold wolf pups. No answer, no answering machine.
The Drug and Dine was busy. There was a line at the cash register, so Jimmy didn’t bother Keith and headed for a table by the window. The please wait to be seated sign was for the tourists, anyway. The table closest to him was filled with mothers laughing over morning stories about children who didn’t want to go to school. Jimmy was sure he heard the term Rainbow Loom bandied about.
At another table sat four old men drinking coffee, all wearing hats that proudly heralded their veteran status. They were discussing what Gesippi used to be like. A group at another table was in the midst of a feisty game of Scrabble. They weren’t talking and seemed unaware of the noise surrounding them.
The dine portion of Drug and Dine had always boasted a rustic decor. There was a wooden Indian statue by the back door, lots of carved bears scattered throughout the room, as well as paintings of horses and deer. The stock hadn’t changed since Jimmy’s youth except for the cell-phone display and a few kachina dolls sitting on the shelf behind the hostess stand. Jimmy fingered one as he went by, amazed at the cost. Victor Lucas’s name was on the tag—the man who owned the Crooked Feather Indian Trading Post next door.
Jimmy set