Juliet tugs on Zack’s arm. Kat stands up, head cocked to one side. A flow of nurses parade past, sparing them barely a glance; it is time for a shift change, she knows from experience this means all kinds of chaos while the new shift gets up to speed on the day’s goings-on among their patients. Then it’s meds, and vitals, and other annoyances. Even if Mindy isn’t asleep, there will be a lot of interruptions.
“We’re going to be in the way for a while, Zack. Let’s go.”
With a last glance at the sleeping form inside the white-and-yellow room, he nods.
46
THE WRIGHTS’ HOUSE
Zack’s first impression of the Wrights’ house is big. They aren’t hurting in the financial department. The place looks like a ski lodge or a spread from a high-end mountain house magazine. In the dark of the night, warm lights line the drive and spill from the windows. He can only imagine the view in the daylight; the ride up the mountain has several hairpin switchbacks, and he feels as if they are on top of the world. Kat leans her head on his shoulder. He feels the soft fur of her muzzle against his ear and is glad he isn’t alone.
Seeing Violet—no, Mindy, he needs to get used to calling her that, because it will be hard enough for her to have all these changes, and really, the Violet he’s always imagined is dead now, replaced by this unknown waif, lying in the bed, so small, so sick—he feels a natural compassion, and has shoved away the rest of his feelings. He has no idea where the next few days are going to take him, and he wants to keep himself on an even keel. As much as possible, that is. Kat serves this purpose well. Her job is to keep him from diving off the end of the ship. She can ascertain his moods, knows when the memories are overwhelming him, when he is about to fall apart.
They are good together. Kat failed out of service school for being too frisky, not serious enough, as her trainer said. The trainer in question being his old Army buddy Chad Mishin, who now runs a charity that trains animals for both retired service members and autistic and spectrum children. Zack was there for a weekend retreat with Chad and a few others from his old platoon, on the grounds of Chad’s farm in Southern Kentucky, just below Bowling Green.
They were getting the tour, Chad explaining how things worked in the service world. “The dogs need to have a certain temperament. For example, see the little Malinois bitch by the fence post? She’s much too silly to work for us. We need more serious dogs. Ones with a little gravitas.”
Zack watched the large puppy gamboling around and felt a huge smile break out on his face. She’d found a mole and was happily digging it up, throwing it in the air, and chasing it down, but gently. Playing, not hurting.
“Looks like she’s being a dog to me,” he said, laughing at her antics.
“She’s a big goofball, is what she is. Showing off because she knows we’re watching. Too much personality can be a problem, just as too little won’t work, either. You gotta have the exact right temperament to work with kids or soldiers who are hurting. We’re going to list her for regular adoption. She’s purebred. I can get a pretty penny for her.”
“I’ll take her,” Zack said before the words even registered in his brain.
“You kidding?”
“I’m not. This is the most I’ve laughed in years. Maybe a goofball dog is just what I need.”
It turned out she wasn’t as much of a goofball as they all thought. Kat grew into a wonderful companion, serious when necessary, but also happy and loving and always there for Zack when he needed bolstering, or when the bad dreams got out of control. Being betrayed, shot, and left for dead in an Afghan warehouse, then finding your wife murdered on the kitchen floor and your child kidnapped did that to a man.
Since Kat was already registered as a service animal, she came with all the attendant paperwork. Zack tried to give it all back, but his friend said, “Naw, you keep it. You may want to travel with her or take her places most dogs won’t be able to go. Besides, Zack, I think this is a good call. I might have suggested it myself, had I known the state of your sorry ass. You’re looking kinda rough, pal.”
He debated punching his friend in the nose, but instead gathered up Kat’s things and drove her to his house in Nashville without a glance back. That was four years ago, and since, he’s only used the Service Dog signage one other time until today. He is grateful as hell he has her with him now, though. He feels unsteady and off-balance, and she knows it. She nuzzles him and licks his nose, her black mask looking serious, for once. She always anticipates when he is about to go off the edge.
“Is Jasper going to have a problem with Kat?”
“Oh, no. They had a dog when Mindy was little, and when she passed away, they didn’t get another because of the travel schedule. They didn’t think it was fair to board a dog all the time, especially on the extended trips to Europe and Canada. Mindy begged and pleaded, but they held firm. I’m sure he’ll be happy to have a dog in the house again.”
She brakes in front of the garage. “Go ahead and take her out. I think Jasper is home, I saw a shadow moving in the kitchen. I’ll just run in and give him a heads-up. Come on up whenever you’re ready.”
“Is this a very bad idea?”
“No, it’s not. I promise. We’re all going to be one happy family, you just watch.”
A family. Is that what this is going to be?
Honestly, he hasn’t thought this through at all. The shock of finding out about Violet—Mindy—God, he doesn’t even know what to call her. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but he wants this, so much, so badly, so viscerally, that he can hardly breathe.
If she is his, though, what will he do? Take her home to Nashville with him, like he did Kat? Move to Colorado to be with her? Let her continue living with Jasper and Lauren? Will he get custody, will they switch weekends?
Technically, legally, if she is his, what are his rights? What are theirs? And what kind of asshole is he for even thinking about all of this?
Forcing away the sudden spurt of anxiety, he guides Kat to the edge of the driveway. She happily sniffs around the rocks. There is still snowpack here from a recent storm, fresh and untouched down the hill except for a series of black dots near the scrub oak, breaks in the snow he assumes are from deer walking through. He is glad it is still too cold for snakes. Kat loves anything that moves, but snakes are a personal favorite, and he knows the poisonous ones rule these large hills.
Kat does her business, then glues herself to his side, looking up at the house as if she, too, feels like she is about to walk into a den of vipers.
A door opens, and Juliet comes out onto the front deck. He smells roasting meat, hamburgers, and she shouts, “What’s taking so long? Come on in. Jasper knew we had to skip dinner. He threw a few burgers on the grill. Are you hungry?”
“I am,” he calls, and with a deep breath, heads up the stairs to the front door.
47
Jasper Wright looks every inch the weekend lawyer, from his pressed chinos to his white button-down polo to the floppy mass of sandy hair on his head. He shakes Zack’s hand with restrained warmth, gracious of him, considering, and invites him to have a seat at the table.
“Beer? Wine? And how do you like your burger?”
“Beer’s fine, thanks. Well done on the meat, please.”
“Huh, that’s how Mindy likes it,” Juliet says. “We’ve been playing a strange game this evening, Jasper, matching up some of the things Zack likes to what Mindy does, too.”
“Yeah? That’s cool.” He plunks two bottles of Heineken on the table, sits in a chair opposite Zack. Takes a pull from his beer. “This is weird for me, man, and I know it is for you, too. I’ve thought Mindy’s biological dad was dead all these years, and Lauren never disabused me of the notion. I guess we’re going to have to muddle through this together, okay?”