A New Leash on Life (11 page)

“Of course it did,” I said, deciding not to bring up that my shock had little to do with the appeal of the news clip and everything to do with him never following through with anything this important.

Within a week, over ten thousand dollars of donations poured in along with encouraging notes and cards. Many people within our geographic region even volunteered to foster some of the dogs and cats until suitable homes could be secured. We weren’t out of the dark in terms of financial distress. We still needed a lot of money to cover the repairs and supplies. But, the donations certainly gifted us with a month or two of wiggle room.

We celebrated with an Italian feast at Melanie’s house. Melanie even invited Phil. I walked in on them giggling. Phil wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and tickled her neck with his lips.

I coughed when I entered the kitchen and Phil jumped back a few feet. “We were just goofing around,” he said, scratching at his neck, then disappearing into the dining room where Trevor, his boyfriend Michael, and Natalie were debating over the correct position for the fork and spoon.

Melanie relaxed with a hand on her wide hip.

“Phil?” I whispered, eyeing her. “Seriously?”

She shushed me with a finger to her mouth. “He can hear you.”

I placed the jug of sangria and a loaf of Italian bread that I brought with me onto her breakfast bar. “I never know with you. One day it’s a gorgeous redhead, the next a burly sheriff.”

She turned to her stovetop, to the tall stainless steel crock. “Keeps me young.” She lifted the glass lid and a wave of delicious steam wafted out spreading tomato, basil and garlic through the kitchen. “Do me a favor, sweetheart, and take out the bag of mussels from the top shelf in the fridge.” She continued to stir the sauce.

I opened her fridge and scanned her shelves. Organic yogurt, milk, juice, and veggies blanketed them. The bag sat behind the organic creamer. The mussels smelled like the bay on a humid summer day, salty and fishy. I plopped them in the sink and ran cold water over them. I scanned her countertops, her refrigerator walls, and her corkboard for signs of foreclosure. Nothing but photos of dogs and cats adorned her kitchen. I decided on a tactic. “I was reading the
Baltimore Sun
the other day and came across an article about the housing market and how so many people are being foreclosed on.”

She closed the lid and then reached for another stainless steel pot. “Sometimes that kind of news can shake people up in a good way, get them out of their comfort zones to see the world from a different perspective.” She nudged me away from the sink and placed the pot under the faucet.

She then continued with a story about how the other day she set her curtains on fire while cleansing her treatment room with a sage stick. She cracked herself up, bellowing out laughter. I stole glances around her kitchen looking for any kind of clue that she’d be moving. Not a packing box or a missing figurine. Nothing.

I interrupted her mid cackle. “How can you still laugh with all you have going on?”

She halted, inhaled deeply and released the breath as if smoking a good cigarette. “Sorry?” Her voice rang higher than normal, and the four stopped talking in the dining room. Trevor left Natalie, Michael, and Phil to the silverware debacle and entered the kitchen on a skid.

“Are you two okay in here?”

I pressed forward, tired of the secret ballooning between my best friend and me. “Enough already. Just tell me what I can do to help you save this place.”

Melanie pushed back against the counter and scooted up tall. “How did you find out?”

“Josh saw the letter on your table.”

She paused, shifted her gaze between the two of us. “Well, it’s true. But, don’t worry. The world isn’t ending. I’ve still got health. I’ve got my cats. I’ve got great friends. All is good.”

I pointed my eyes at her, unwilling to let go of the opening I just created. “How bad is it?”

“It’s not death.” She waved us away. “It’s just a house.”

“It’s your home.” I scooted up to her, leaving the mussels in the sink.

“Honestly,” she said placing a strong hand on my shoulder. “I am not heartbroken over this. The less baggage in life, the freer I am.”

“We’ve got to be able to help,” Trevor said.

“There’s nothing you can do,” she said smiling at Phil and Natalie now as they entered the kitchen and listened with quiet mouths. Michael stayed put in the dining room, petting one of the cats. “I’m behind on my mortgage and taxes. Everyone’s in the same boat these days.” She folded her hands in front of her. “It happens.”

“I’m sure I’ve got some wiggle room on my credit card,” I said. “I can do a cash advance and you can pay me back when you’re able to.”

“Olivia,” Natalie said, wincing. “I just paid the credit card yesterday and you don’t have much wiggle room.”

“I’ve got a little I can lend you,” Phil offered, standing on a slant with his hands tucked deep inside the front pockets of his jeans.

“I’m not taking anyone’s money.” Melanie returned to her pot, to her source for balance and control. “Now everyone lighten up. We’re here to celebrate the shelter. That’s far more important than this old house.”

“Can’t you just repay them in installments? Work out a deal?” I asked, desperate to help her.

“I don’t even like this big place anyway. It’s drafty, half of the windows don’t open, the carpeting is tattered, and it’s just too big for me.”

“Where are you going to go?” I asked.

Phil stepped forward. “I’ve got the entire bottom half of my raised ranch available. It’s got two bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen and an oversized office area that would work fine as your treatment room.”

Melanie flushed. I’d never seen her turn red before. “Oh Phil,” she said, squeezing his cheek between her stubby fingers. “Phil, Phil, Phil.”

“It’s empty and I’d love to have someone in there I can trust.”

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed the tip of his nose and smacked his ass. “I might take you up on that for a while.”

Phil turned red. “Cool.”

Natalie reached for the wine glasses.

I reached for the jug of sangria.

Trevor reached for his pack of cigarettes.

Melanie shifted towards the mussels. “Show’s over. Now, everyone out of the kitchen. I need space.”

None of us budged. “Hang on,” I said. I don’t understand how this all happened. How did this fabulous house end up in foreclosure?”

“Olivia, my friend,” Melanie said. “We’re gathering here tonight to celebrate the good nature and generosity of strangers pooling together for the common good of those lovely animals in need. No polluting the night with talk of anything that is not on the same level as that generosity.” She tapped my ass this time.

Natalie giggled.

“People sure are generous,” Trevor said, twirling his unlit cigarette between his fingers. “We still received the monthly check from our anonymous donor today.”

Every month since I had opened the shelter I received a check from a generous donor. This check had sustained the shelter over the years by providing a consistent cash flow to cover many of the operating costs. “Thank God for that donor, right?”

“That’s the spirit,” Melanie said before waving us out of the kitchen again with her ladle.

“Times like this are making me realize that I shouldn’t let that one monthly check serve as the bridge to our survival.” I pointed my eyes at Trevor’s cigarette, then back up at him.

“Oh come on,” he said. “Ease up on yourself. You’re a nonprofit relying on the generosity of others. Without that check we’d probably never get paid.”

“Our salaries are covered by the veterinary services,” I said. “Unless people all of a sudden stop taking their dogs to get their discount routine shots, we’ve at least got that covered.”

He shrugged. “Clinic visits have been down since the storm.”

Natalie stepped up. “Things are stressful for everyone. We’d all be lying if we didn’t admit to being a little concerned. I’ve got a car payment due and I just started this whole series of karate classes.”

“How about applying for a grant?” Phil asked.

“I heard about one called the Meacham Foundation Memorial Grant,” Natalie said. “It’s for funding of building improvements and equipment purchases that directly affect the welfare of animals in shelters.”

“I’m sure the Humane Society must have some grants, too,” Trevor said placing his cigarette back in its pack.

I had applied to the Meacham one four days ago. “All those grants take time,” I said.

“Well, surely the two grand you get from this donor every month will continue to see you through?” Melanie asked.

Shock waved through me.

I never shared donation amounts with anyone other than Trevor, my resident bookkeeper and assistant. “Trevor?” I asked without taking my eyes off of my friend, closing in on a suspicion I prayed wasn’t true. “Did you tell Melanie how much was in that check?”

“Nope. I’d never ramble on about the business figures to anyone.”

Melanie’s knuckles whitened around the ladle. “Enough of this stress,” she said. “My shoulders are starting to hunch and the wrinkles are setting in deeper by the minute with all the toxicity in this air. Everyone get out of the kitchen and let me cook in peace.”

I pointed to Natalie, Trevor, and Phil to leave. They obeyed like three well-trained professionals would. “It’s you,” I said to her after they cleared the room. “You’re the monthly donor.”

“Rubbish.” She wouldn’t look at me. She placed the ladle back in the pot and stirred it with a vengeance. I stepped in and tore it away from her.

“Really?” I asked. “This is why you’re losing your home?”

She wrestled with her face, stretching it into a smile so plastered it could crack if she coughed. “Just leave it alone, will you?”

“Leave it alone?” I cornered her between the sink and the stovetop. “Are you crazy? Losing your home because of me?”

She danced over to the sink, flapping her long skirt. “I did this because I wanted to. I sent you the checks anonymously because I knew you’d be too proud to take them from me. This offered me a chance to do something worthwhile, a chance to better the lives of countless animals losing their chances at a decent life.”

I stared her down. Arguments rolled around in my head like a bowling ball, hightailing their way from left to right searching for reason.

“I can’t accept any more from you now.” My emotions tangled. In one moment anger flooded in, and in another gratitude. Blown away, a bitter fight ensued and tangled me into a fit. Tears sprang from my eyes, leaping from me as if afraid to wait around for the grand finale. “I could’ve arranged for different funding. I could’ve organized more bake sales, more charity walks, more family photograph sessions, damn it.” I flung my hands up in the air, devastated by what this news meant to both of us. “How am I supposed to sleep at night knowing you lost your house over me and my venture?”

She grasped my arms and spoke in a whisper. “Stop this.”

My pulse raced. Tears continued to roll in waves. I blubbered, pitying myself, her, Trevor, and Natalie. “What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to fix this?”

Melanie opened up her arms and I sank into them. “You don’t have to fix things. You have everything you need. Good fortune is all around you. You just have to open up your eyes and see the beauty of it all.”

I pulled away. “I don’t know what lens you are looking through, but for me, things are looking gloomy.”

Melanie rubbed her two hands together and pulled them apart slowly. “Do it.”

“I’m not in the mood for this positive energy crap.”

She grabbed my hands and forced them together. “Rub until I tell you to stop.”

I exhaled and followed her command, rubbing my hands together like some sort of Neanderthal attempting to create fire. Heat mounted, friction built and finally Melanie released me with a simple tug to my wrist. The energy ball rested between my hands, pulling them slightly apart, relaxing my arms and tickling my skin.

“If that little motion can move your hands,” she paused waiting for me to complete the sentence.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Imagine what else it is capable of doing.” I hated that her philosophy proved so spot-on all the time, especially when I wanted to be mad.

“So see, I imagined all along that my situation would turn out just fine in the end. Phil offered me a place to rest for a while, and he’s kind of a cutie, so who knows, right?”

I nudged her. “You’re considering it?” I loved Phil. I loved the idea of her being happy with someone as genuine and loving as Phil.

“Just for the time being, sure.” She shrugged and opened her face into a huge smile. “See, the world always gives me what I need, when I need it. And, it’ll do the same for you.”

~ ~

Maybe Melanie’s positive vibes really did work. She encouraged me to start out my day doing the energy ball thing so I could focus in on the fact that we’re all energy and energy can be positive if we direct it. So, I worked on directing it towards my shelter, my dogs, my cats, my ferrets, and my birds and within a few days, the good fortune of the donations that had poured in started to really impact us in a great way.

I purchased enough medical and food supplies to last three months, and I paid the electric and utility bills in advance. Additionally, Phil, that sweetheart of a sheriff and also Melanie’s new boyfriend who spoiled her with all sorts of lavish dinners and praise, had managed to talk his brother-in-law into fixing the roof and foundation for cost. In return, his brother-in-law would receive lifetime free vaccines, wellness visits and minor surgeries at cost for all three of his Great Danes. He would swing by when time permitted.

I waited in limbo for several weeks for his paid clients to stop calling him with request after request that would put actual food on his table. Meanwhile, Phil helped us deal with the leaky roof with some sturdy pails, and the cracked foundation with a mixture of this goopy tar stuff from the hardware store. Phil even equipped us with new leashes and collars he picked up at a flea market that he and Melanie went to one sunny Sunday afternoon. They came back laughing, holding hands and looking very much like a couple in love.