Chasing Rainbows A Novel - By Long, Kathleen Page 0,37

field, barking up at the sky. She was afraid something might happen to him.”

Disbelief did a slow tumble through my system. “Mrs. Cooke?”

My new neighbor nodded and extended his hand. I dropped my focus to his fingers, remembering our first encounter. I loosened my grip on Poindexter and dragged my sleeve across my face, shuddering momentarily when I realized I must look like a very bad Halloween leftover.

“Come on,” Number Thirty-Six said. “I won’t bite.”

Promises. Promises.

I slipped my fingers into his and scrambled to my feet, doing my best to ignore the warm brush of his skin against mine. Poindexter jumped up on me, sending me staggering to one side.

“Sit,” Number Thirty-Six said in a deep, authoritative voice.

I fought the urge to plant my butt in the mud, but Poindexter did exactly what he was told. I stared at him, stunned.

“How did you do that?” I pointed to the dog, sitting on command.

My neighbor shrugged. “He’s a great dog. When did you teach him the commands? As a pup?”

I narrowed my gaze, staring at Poindexter. “Commands?” Maybe this wasn’t my dog at all. Maybe this was a pod dog that had been grown in some basement down the block.

“Sure.” Number Thirty-Six nodded enthusiastically. “He sits. He shakes. He plays dead, and he loves to roll over.”

Roll over?

I shot a frown at Poindexter and I could have sworn the dog shrugged. Was he actually so smart he’d wanted to get thrown out of obedience school after obedience school after obedience school?

“Amazing,” I muttered.

“Yes, he is.”

He grinned, and I realized I was still holding his hand. I jerked my hand away as if his touch had scorched my palm. “Thanks for taking him in.”

“No problem.”

We walked together, side by side, back across the field. Poindexter trotted happily along as if he were the most well-trained dog in New Jersey.

“You look like you could use a cup of coffee,” Number Thirty-Six said, the skin around his eyes crinkling with sincerity.

I shook my head, sudden nerves sliding through me. “I only drink tea,” I fibbed.

“Sure you do.”

He smiled a really great crooked smile then tipped his head toward the back of his house.

“I’m only two doors away if you ever want some lessons.”

“Lessons?” My voice squeaked like a chipmunk on speed.

For a moment, my mind raced with the possibilities. Just what sort of lessons did Number Thirty-Six feel qualified to teach?

“For the dog.” He laughed a little as he turned and walked away.

Poindexter began to follow him and I cleared my throat. When the dog looked back at me, I shot him my most threatening glare. He turned sharply and headed for our house, racing ahead of me even as I called to him to heel.

A jumbo jet appeared over the top of the trees and the chase was on. Poindexter raced beneath the belly of the plane, barking up at the sky.

I watched Number Thirty-Six head back toward his house then snapped myself back to reality.

Lessons. For the dog.

Imagine that.

o0o

“Sometimes it is difficult to know who is knocking – opportunity or temptation.”

-Unknown

ELEVEN

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Three weeks later, the UPS man had grown sick of delivering packages to my front door, and Diane and I still hadn’t spoken. Truth be told, I missed her. A lot. She might be a hormone-crazed purse fiend, but she was also the one constant in my life. At least she had been.

After my sixth voice mail went unanswered, I’d stopped calling.

The night of the family talent show arrived, and even though I wasn’t speaking to her mother, I’d promised Ashley I’d go.

Diane and David had been unwilling to perform without their Sonny and Cher costumes and Ashley wanted all of the moral support she could get.

I cruised the school parking lot, hoping for an available parking space. Glancing at the dashboard clock, I realized I was ten minutes late.

Even when I had no life I couldn’t get somewhere on time.

Relief eased through me when I cleared the threshold of the foyer and spotted the flashing overhead lights. My relief, however, quickly gave way to sensations far different.

Ryan stood on the far side of the lobby, his palm planted possessively against the small of another woman’s back.

My face went hot. My face went cold. I was torn between the desire to run and the desire to vomit.

I squeezed my eyes shut and willed myself not to shriek or faint or in any way call attention to myself,