Save The Date Part 49

"Okay, yeah, whatever," Zoey said carelessly. She opened the VW's door and Shaz bounced out, like an overinflated helium balloon. Zoey pulled a cell phone from the pocket of her shorts and leaned back against the car. "I'll just wait here for her."

Cara opened the door to the courtyard, and on spotting Poppy, Shaz barked a happy greeting. Poppy dropped the headless rubber doll she'd been chewing on, and came over to sniff Shaz's m.u.f.fle, and then her b.u.t.t. A moment later, Shaz grabbed the toy Poppy had dropped, and lay down on the bricks to give it a chew.

"Come here, Poppy," Cara called softly, looking back over her shoulder to make sure she was un.o.bserved. For once, the dog obeyed. Cara wrapped her arms around the dog's shoulders, inhaling the smell of her freshly shampooed fur. Poppy licked Cara's neck and chin, while, with trembling fingers, Cara unbuckled her pink plaid collar and slipped it from her neck.

"I'm so sorry to do this to you," she whispered in the dog's silky ear. "But you're just going to have to trust me. Okay? Do you trust me?"

Poppy's tail beat a happy tattoo on the bricks.

"Okay," Cara said, leading the dog out to the VW. "She's all set to go."

Zoey put her phone away, opened the car door and gestured. "Come on, Shaz. Let's go! Let's go for a nice ride."

The dog planted its b.u.t.t on the curb and looked from Zoey to Cara.

"d.a.m.n it, Shaz," Zoey cried. She grabbed the dog's neon-green collar and tugged. "Come on!" The dog resisted, even backing away from the VW.

Cara held her breath. "Let's go, Shaz," she said cheerily, giving the dog's b.u.t.t a gentle push. Finally, between the two of them, they managed to wedge her back into the VW's pa.s.senger seat.

"Jack spoiled her rotten while I was gone," Zoey griped, crossing around to the driver's side. "Which is hysterical, since he claimed he never wanted a puppy in the first place. Now, he treats her way better than he ever treated me." She gave Cara an appraising look. "You watch, he'll do the same with your dog, now that Shaz is gone."

"Maybe so," Cara said. She stood back from the curb, and when the VW lurched away, she gave a sad little wave as it drove off, with the dog's big fluffy head hanging out the window, looking backward.

Cara raced inside the shop and picked up her cell phone. She touched the icon with Jack's number, praying he would pick up.

Fifteen minutes later, he pulled the truck around to the lane in back of the shop. He used his key to unlock the courtyard door.

Cara sat at the table under the umbrella, clutching her phone in her hand, her face etched with worry.

"Are you nuts?" he exploded. Shaz jumped up and planted her paws on his chest. "Down!" he said sternly, but she was not to be deterred. Finally, he scratched her head and her ears. She dropped to the ground, rolled over, and allowed him to scratch her belly.

"What if this doesn't work?" he asked, glaring at Cara. "You don't know Zoey. She's a total flake. There's no telling what she'll do. She could drive straight through to New Orleans, and you'll never see Poppy again. And then what? You'll blame me, even though if you'd run this harebrained idea past me, I would have told you how crazy it was."

"Five more minutes," Cara said, glancing down at her watch. She reached her hand out for Jack's phone. "Let me see Zoey's number, so I can type it into my phone."

"She might not answer," Jack warned. "She won't know who's calling. Or maybe she won't even hear it. She plays the radio in that car at full volume."

"Just give me the phone, please," Cara said.

He handed it over and she tapped in the number.

"Why did Zoey even come over here?" he asked.

Cara was still staring down at her phone, but she looked up now. "She wanted to check out what she thought was the compet.i.tion. And she clearly didn't see what you could have seen in me."

"That's textbook Zoey. She's about as deep as an Arizona mud puddle."

"She had a lot to say about you, Jack. And none of it was very flattering. She says you're cold and emotionally distant."

"Sounds about right."

"And cheap. She says you never gave her a single piece of jewelry."

His answering smile was grim. "Seems like I'll be buying her some now, whether I like it or not. I'd just walked in the door five minutes earlier when you called. She wasn't content to just take Shaz. She also cleaned out my sock drawer."

"Zoey stole your socks?"

"She left the socks, but she took my stash. Sometimes my subs want to be paid in cash. I figure she got about two thousand dollars."

Cara held up her phone so Jack could see it. "Okay, keep your fingers crossed. It's been thirty minutes. It usually only takes about twenty minutes for Poppy."

She tapped the Dial b.u.t.ton on her phone. Zoey's phone rang once, twice, three times, before the voicemail recording came on.

"Hi, this is Zoey," the sultry recorded voice said. "You know what to do."

Cara shook her head and disconnected.

"See? I knew this would happen. She probably thinks you're a bill collector or something."

"Or maybe she's got her hands full right at the moment," Cara said, swallowing her fear.

She dialed again, and this time Zoey picked up. Cara could hear the rush of traffic in the background.

"Oh, Zoey," Cara cried with absolutely authentic relief. "Something awful has happened."

"You're telling me," Zoey said.

"I must have gotten the dogs mixed up. Poppy and Shaz were both running around in the backyard, and they look identical, and somehow, I must have given you my dog, Poppy, instead of Shaz."

"Thanks a lot," Zoey said. "This d.a.m.n dog has been barfing for ten minutes. She barfed all over the car, herself, me, it's everywhere. It's disgusting."

"I am so, so sorry," Cara said. "I just realized my mistake."

"Yeah, ten minutes too late," Zoey said. "Okay, I'm turning around right now. I can't take much more of this."

Cara hung up and turned to Jack with a triumphant smile. "She's coming back."

"Thank G.o.d," he breathed. "But Zoey's not going to give up this easily. Once she hands over Poppy, she's gonna insist on taking Shaz with her, if only because she wants her revenge against me."

"I've got another idea," Cara said. "Do you trust me?"

Jack looked down at Shaz, who was curled up at his feet. Despite all the excitement, she was asleep, softly snoring. "Do I have a choice?"

Exactly twenty-seven minutes later, the VW zoomed up to the curb in front of Bloom. The motor was still running as Zoey jumped out, ran around, and opened the pa.s.senger door. "Out!" she screamed. Poppy's head hung limply over the edge of the seat. "Get out, dammit!" Zoey repeated.

Cara stepped up and gathered the reeking puppy into her arms. "Poor baby," she crooned. "My poor baby."

"Your poor baby," Zoey exploded. "Look at me! Look at my car! I can't go anywhere like this. I've gotta get out of these clothes, shower, get my car cleaned up. I was gagging the whole way back here. I mean, what the f.u.c.k?"

"I'm sorry," Cara said, setting Poppy carefully down on the sidewalk. "But I'm surprised you haven't encountered this with Shaz when you go on car trips. The vet says it's something to do with the breed."

"I've never taken Shaz on a car trip before," Zoey replied. "What are you talking about?"

"Carsickness," Cara said. "The vet says it's hereditary with goldendoodles."

"The breeder never mentioned it to me," Zoey said. "And come to think of it, when I brought Shaz back from Atlanta, that was a four-hour car ride, and she was fine. She slept the whole way home."

"Exactly," Cara said. "My vet says it's something the breeders downplay. Like hip dysplasia in Great Danes. When they're really young, it doesn't affect them so much. But once they're seven or eight months old ... bleaaahhhh." Cara pantomimed an Oscar-worthy rendition of canine carsickness. "Poppy's fine for a short ride, like to the vet or the grocery store, but if she's in the car for more than fifteen minutes ... bleaahhh."

Zoey shuddered, then tapped her foot impatiently. "Jack never said anything about Shaz getting carsick."

"Like you said, he's totally selfish," Cara pointed out. "He was probably hoping you'd take Shaz with you so he doesn't have to deal with her himself." She gestured toward the shop door. "If you want to come inside and get cleaned up, I'll take Poppy out to the garden and hose her off, and then you can get Shaz. I've probably got some old towels you can take with you for the rest of the trip. Just in case, you know ... bleahhh."

Zoey crossed and uncrossed her arms. It took less than thirty seconds to make up her mind.

"Yeah. Thanks but no thanks. I think I'm just gonna let Shaz be Jack's problem from now on."

"You sure?" Cara asked helpfully. "I've got plenty of towels."

"Positive," Zoey said. "I gotta get to a car wash before this mess soaks into my upholstery." She looked over at Poppy, and then at Cara. "Gross."

Cara stood perfectly still while Zoey slammed the VW into first gear and pulled away from the curb.

She held up her right hand and gave a soft finger wave. "Buh-byeeee."

66.

The bells at St. John's were just tolling six. Cara led Poppy through the lane and into the courtyard garden. She fetched the galvanized tub and the bottle of dog shampoo from the toolshed, and filled it with water from the hose. Then she held a dog treat beneath Poppy's nose, and gently coaxed the puppy into the tub. Cara squeezed shampoo into her hand and worked it into the dog's fur, training the nozzle over Poppy's fur.

"Zoey's gone," she told Jack, who still held a tight hand on the pink collar around Shaz's neck. "And the coast is clear."

"I was inside, crouched down, watching through the front window," Jack said. "I figured, if Zoey tried to argue with you, I'd come out and try to buy her off. What did you say to get her to leave Shaz behind?"

Hearing her name mentioned, Shaz stood, her ears p.r.i.c.ked up. Jack released his hold on her collar and she edged over to watch the proceedings.

"Does she like a bath as much as Poppy does?" Cara asked, looking over at Jack.

He looked chagrined. "Uh, I guess. I mean, when I take her to the groomers, she's okay with it."

Cara gave him a look of reproof. "She's half golden retriever. Most retrievers love the water.

"Come here, you," Cara said, and Shaz propped her front paws on the edge of the washtub. She looked over at Jack. "Put out your hand."

He did as he was told, and she squeezed a dollop of shampoo into his open palm. He gave a disdainful sniff. "Smells like flowers."

"Deal with it," Cara said. She trained the hose on Shaz's head and then body, deliberately splas.h.i.+ng Jack's legs.

"Come on," he said, choosing to ignore the water. "What did you tell Zoey?"

Cara scrubbed at Poppy's coat with both hands, working up a thick lather of suds. "I told her my vet says all goldendoodles are subject to carsickness. Because it's hereditary."

"That's bulls.h.i.+t. Shaz has never gotten carsick. I've taken her over to South Carolina, to Cabin Creek, plenty of times. It's a forty-five-minute drive, one way. She loves riding in the truck."

"Mmm-hmm," Cara said. "I totally made it up. Luckily, Zoey was happy to buy my lies."

"Luckily," Jack said.

"In the end, she basically told me I was welcome to the guy, and the dog. I guess she decided you were both more trouble than you were worth."

He got up from the chair and gazed down at Cara, still bent over the tub, was.h.i.+ng her dog. He'd never noticed the fine sprinkling of freckles across her shoulders and the back of her neck. Then he stood up, grabbed the hose, and trained it on her exposed neck and back.

She gave a yelp of surprise. He grabbed her hands and pulled her to her feet. "I don't know about the dog, but I do know that I'm definitely more trouble than I'm worth. I still can't believe what you just did for me out there. Thank you. Thank you so much, Cara. You let Zoey take Poppy, not really knowing if she'd bring her back, if your crazy scheme would work. You risked everything for me."

Cara sighed. "Sometimes, you just have to trust your gut."

He took her hands and placed them on his own hips, then wrapped his arms loosely around her shoulders and tilted his forehead until it was resting on hers.

"Sometimes you have to trust your heart, too. You give what you think the other person needs, and hope they know that you're doing it out of love."

Cara raised her chin and smiled. "It took me a while, I'll admit. I wasn't very gracious about accepting your gift. But I think maybe I'm ready now, for whatever you have to offer."

His lips found hers. He pulled her tighter, then whispered in her ear. "All of it. Everything. Darlin', everything I have is yours."

She felt her knees buckle, which forced her to clasp herself tighter against his chest. "I love it when you call me darlin'."

There was a chattering just then, from the top of the c.r.a.pe myrtle. Poppy scrambled out of the washtub, and dashed after the squirrel in mad pursuit, with Shaz hot on her heels. The two wet, soapy dogs crouched at the foot of the tree, snouts pointed upward, barking in perfect unison.

"We are not taking those dogs on our honeymoon," he muttered.

"Honeymoon?"

"Will you marry me, darlin'?" Jack asked.