Walking Dick Read online

  Just like that, his overblown sense of self-importance sent me tumbling off the wagon. “Gimme the usual,” I said, glancing down at my nails to distract me from my sin. “If you tell any of the others, I’ll burn off the calories by setting fire to your car.”

  The people I knew had a variety of things that fostered a deep sense of love within them, be it their pets, lovers, or passion projects. For Jack, it was his wheels, the very same car he’d received as a gift on the day of our graduation. He cherished it, and much like its driver, the thing looked like it hadn’t aged a day.

  An automatic shudder ran through his shoulders, and he scribbled my name on an empty cup, then offered a salute. “Understood.”

  Five minutes later, I was happily slurping my venti java-chip Frappuccino. It was not exactly part of my diet plan, but as long as Jack kept his mouth shut, no one would be the wiser Then again, who am I kidding? I scolded myself. In this neighborhood? My goodness, I’m pretty sure everyone knows my blood type, the color socks I wore Tuesday, which Netflix shows I most like to binge on, and that I put my skirt on backward this morning!

  To hedge my bets, I actually purchased a thermos before leaving and dumped the entire contents of my Starbucks cup into it so no one would spot all its creamy goodness. When Ms. Flenderson looked on disapprovingly, I locked eyes with hers in a defensive glare. “Don’t judge me,” I muttered.

  Her lips thinned into a dry smile. “Surely you’re aware that your shirt is inside out. Also, is it a new fad to wear house slippers in public?” she asked with a scowl, arching her brow as she looked down at my feet.

  For the first time that day, I glanced down at myself and flushed in self-consciousness. Things did not look good, not from any angle. Not only was she absolutely right about my shirt and footwear, but it also appeared I was going for a rainbow sherbet color scheme.

  “Don’t judge me,” I laughed, echoing my original statement.

  She smirked.

  I promptly forgot her words, took a spiteful slurp from my java-chip splash of heaven, and headed down the street. The Frappuccino tasted just as good after sloshing around in my new thermos as it did from the cup, and all my troubles seemed to melt away as the caffeine-infused sugar made its way into my system.

  Suddenly, none of my problems seemed so bad. Suddenly, it didn’t matter that I was running late or that I was dressed like some sort of deranged, drunken Mary Poppins. Suddenly, I felt like I really could accomplish all those things on those Post-It notes. I really can! Hell, they were the ones who told me I can! And as for this diet... Well, Jack Briggs, you go on teasing me. Make your stupid jokes to your heart’s content, but I’ll show you when I kick this diet’s ass... um, as soon as I finish this Frappuccino.

  At that moment, the story really began, for it was in that state of blissful euphoria, walking down the street, when something came along that would change my life forever. Looking back, I can’t believe it all started with a pair of faulty brakes!

  I heard the telltale screech even before I spotted the car. The vibration shook the ground beneath my slippers, and I felt it even before I looked up and saw the accident.

  There was no way to stop it. The dog ran from out of nowhere, the brakes locked, and all I could do was watch and listen, horrified and helpless to do anything about it.

  A sharp yip pierced the air, followed by a dull thud. My hands clapped over my mouth as a golden retriever I had never seen before smashed into the pavement. In an instant, I found myself running, at full speed, right into oncoming traffic.

  Chapter 3

  A SYMPHONIC EXPLOSION of horns and shouting echoed in my ears as I sprinted toward the fallen animal, but my vision had narrowed. In that moment of tunnel-vision, I didn’t think for even a second about the personal risk; I just leapt off the sidewalk and ran to rescue the pup, if I even could. There was something about animals, something that melted my heart, stripped away all logic and reason, and lit a fire inside me. Nothing else even came close.

  “Oh, sweetie!” I skidded to my knees in front of the steaming car and ran my fingers over the golden fur. “You’re okay, buddy. You’re okay!”

  The poor thing was still moving, and I took that as a good sign. His pulse and breathing seemed to be steady, faint as they were, and from what I could tell, he’d suffered no major or obvious injuries.

  By that time, a small crowd had started to gather, and another car screeched to a halt in the opposite lane. The second it stopped, a door whipped open and slammed shut.

  “You’re okay, sweetheart.” I did my best to calm the frightened creature, cradling his head as I ran my fingers soothingly through his fur. “We’re gonna get you to a doctor, boy, and everything will be all right. I promise.”

  The next thing I knew, another set of hands collided with mine.

  As the sun burst from behind a cloud, I looked up and saw the most beautiful man in the entire world staring back at me. Seriously, he was absurdly attractive, the kind of attractive that made me temporarily forget what I was doing and dart my eyes around in confusion, as if wondering where the rest of his unearthly tribe had gone.

  As beautiful as the stranger was, he certainly wasn’t happy. On the contrary, his face was tight with tension, and his eyes dilated with heartbreaking concern as they dropped back to the fallen dog. “Is he all right?” he murmured, lowering his voice automatically to the same soothing tone as my own. “Can he move at all?”

  Can... Huh? Oh! The dog!

  Fortunately for both of us, an injured dog was literally the only thing in the world capable of shaking me out of my slack-jawed trance and returning me to the moment.

  “Yeah, I think...” I cleared my throat and furrowed my brow as my mouth curled downward into a clinical frown. “I think he’ll be fine, but he might be in shock.”

  The man’s face softened, and he lowered his lips to the dog’s forehead to give him a swift kiss as he ruffled his caramel fur. “Poor thing.”

  Two things: One, why does he care so much? I mean, I love him for it, but still... It was not uncommon for a person to care about a wounded dog, but no one else had jumped out of their car to help.

  Two: Guys who instinctively kiss animals are, uh... Yes, please!

  Another horn screamed right in front of us, and the dog stirred fearfully, still trying to recover his senses. It took a second for me to understand that the noise was coming from the car with the steaming engine, the one that had caused the accident in the first place.

  My blood boiled and, enraged, I had to literally bite my tongue, as I didn’t want to frighten the poor animal even more by going on a tirade. I can’t believe this! my mind screamed. First the guy hits the dog, and now he’s actually honking as if someone did something to him or is in his way? What the...?

  “Hey, lady, get that mutt outta the road, would ya? Some of us got places to be, and we’re trying to drive here!”

  I truly had never wanted to commit homicide so badly in my life. I was ready to rip him to pieces with my own two hands, but before I could say anything, someone seemed to be reading my mind.

  “Are you kidding me, mister?” Apparently, I wasn’t the only one harboring murderous intent, because the mystery man lifted to his knees, still holding the dog protectively, sending lethal daggers at the offender through his windshield with a menacing glare. “Either come out here and help, or it’s gonna be you who better get out of here,” his voice rang out over the silent street. “Maybe you’d like to see what damage I can do with my car.”

  It really was like something out of a movie, like watching a mere mortal crumble beneath the will of a furious god. In the next instant, the engine revved, and the car backed slowly away. Neither it nor its heinous driver were ever seen in Riverwood again.

  “That...” I blinked at the guy in shock, completely confused. Do I jump him or run away screaming? I struggled to decide as I mumbled, “That was, uh...”

  His eyes locked with mine, but the moment was quickly inte
rrupted by a whimper from the dog.

  “We need to get him to a vet,” I muttered hastily, looking around for anything to help me safely lift the crying critter. “Let me just hail a cab and—”

  “I can take him,” he offered without a moment’s hesitation.

  My eyes flickered over his shoulder to the luxury sports car idling in the other lane, then returned to him doubtfully. “Are you sure?” I glanced down at the dog. “I mean, I think someone else here can—”

  “No, it’s fine. My car’s right there.” He gestured dismissively behind him, in case I somehow hadn’t seen that fancy thing shining in the sunlight as if it had some kind of otherworldly aura, then petted the dog ever so gently. Again, his voice quieted into that soothing tone as he lifted the animal delicately into the air. “You’re okay, sweetheart. We’ll get you all fixed up.”

  It really was a big dog, and I was something of an expert on the subject. I walked many so I knew firsthand how difficult they were to handle, especially when they went limp like that. For him, though, it didn’t seem to matter; he just lifted the furry one up as if he weighed no more than a ragdoll and carried him effortlessly to his car.

  I was still staring, shocked, my mind reeling from the series of bizarre events that had just occurred, when another car honked impatiently. It took a second for me to realize it was his. He and I looked up at the same time to see an absurdly gorgeous girl leaning over from the passenger seat. Her looks were truly deceiving, because she honked twice more, with increasing impatience, then began shaking her head furiously when he stepped forward with the injured dog.

  His shoulders tightened, and he looked away and released a quiet sigh as she began shouting an unintelligible warning through the windshield. Although her exact words were muffled, her shrill intention somehow managed to make it through.

  His hands tightened protectively around the retriever, and instead of facing her straight on, he glanced back at me once more. I was still kneeling there, exactly where he’d left me, stunned by the accident, the dog, and the rescuer. Generally speaking, I was just stunned senseless about all of it.

  His face lightened imperceptibly at my dumbfounded expression, and he opened his mouth to say some parting words, words that I just knew I’d replay on a loop in my head until the end of time.

  However, before he could mutter those words I’d forever cherish, the girl honked again. Even as he was laying the dog in the backseat, I could hear her screaming, “Oh, my gosh! Tell me you are not bringing that mangy thing in here!”

  Then the door shut, and all was silent once more.

  His eyes tightened almost imperceptibly, and he flashed me a fleeting smile. “Nice slippers,” he said.

  I blinked in confusion, then glanced down at my feet as he got into his car and drove away in a cloud of dust. There went my white knight, off to the vet’s office, with a broken dog in the backseat and a raging wench riding shotgun.

  Nice slippers?

  The remark was different coming from him. It was not mocking or teasing, like something Jack or Ms. Flenderson insisted on talking. Rather, it was spoken like a genuine compliment, sweet and offered with a little smile. Of course, none of that made sense, but nothing about the entire morning really did anyway, so it seemed to fit right in.

  “Nice slippers?” I actually said aloud as I ambled up onto my feet and shuffled quickly to the sidewalk. “Maybe he’s blind...”

  Chapter 4

  AFTER THE DRAMA OUTSIDE the coffee shop, all I wanted to do was go to the vet and make sure the dog was okay. I suffered no delusions that my mystery man was still hanging around. In fact, given his surreal face, I was beginning to wonder if the guy even existed or if he was just some fantasy that popped into my head. I couldn’t get that sweet golden retriever out of my thoughts, though, and the uncertainty about him plagued me the entire walk back to the house. It was the animal thing again; they had impossible sway over me.

  On any other day, I would have hopped straight into my car and hurried to the local veterinarian’s office. On any other day, I would have sat with the animal until I was satisfied that he would be okay; only then would my obsessively worried mind have been able to relax. After that, on any other day, I would have delved into the age-old question: Seeing that this dog needs somebody, should I just adopt him myself or not? Then, I would certainly have succumbed to my sanity and set off to find him a good home. Unfortunately, that good home couldn’t be mine, because as fate would have it, there were about a dozen other dogs that currently required my attention.

  A loud choir of barking greeted me the second I pushed open the door, a blaring noise that crescendoed and was quickly joined by the frantic scraping of claws on wood flooring. I was hot and sweaty from having raced all the way back home on foot, and to top it off, my beloved new thermos had slipped from my hands in the wake of the accident and shattered upon impact. I had no coffee, other than what was spilled all over me, but there was no time to remedy that at the moment.

  “I know, I know,” I panted breathlessly, rushing to my bedroom to change my ridiculous clothes. “I’m late, and you’re hungry. You’ve been very patient, Richard. Thank you.”

  A cocker spaniel jumped onto the center of my bed and stared up at me with a pair of huge, unblinking eyes. Those eyes never judged, but they held me accountable nonetheless.

  Richard Masterson Woodrow III was the best friend a girl could ask for, and there were no others before him, in spite of his name. I had found him hanging around the dumpsters behind a bankrupt Italian restaurant when he was still just a puppy. Although I was living in an apartment at the time, one with a strict no-pet policy, I simply had to take him home that day, and the two of us had been inseparable ever since.

  No matter how dark the day, Richard always seemed to brighten it. He added a splash of energy, humor, and unconditional animal affection to my life, and he was always able to tip even the most devilish days back to the side of the angels.

  Even now, after that horrific accident, he didn’t disappoint. While I was out saving the world—or at least watching the world be saved by a superhero so beautiful that I now literally thought I’d dreamt him up—my dog had been busy as well. Richard—or Dick, as I liked to call him—had left a well-chewed toilet paper roll strewn playfully down the hall. A half-eaten shoe lay neatly on the mantel, and one of my inspirational Post-Its was stuck to his fur, a rather fitting one for the occasion: “Seize every precious moment. Blink, and it will be gone forever.”

  Okay, so maybe Dick is feeling a little judgmental after all, I surmised, looking at my furry beast. “What was I supposed to do?” I asked aloud, falling against the wall as I struggled to pull up a pair of jeans. “Rip off his clothes right then and there? One of your injured countrymen was lying between us, I’ll have you know. There was no time to seize anything... or anyone.”

  I paused and gazed wistfully in the mirror as I remembered every moment of our unexpected encounter that literally stopped traffic.

  “Plus, there’s a pretty good chance I was the only one who saw him, as if I willed him to life or something, manifested a compilation of all my deepest fantasies. I’m sure everyone by the coffee shop thought I was just talking to myself.”

  Dick tilted his head to the side.

  I sighed miserably. “You’re right, Dick. We need to stop watching so much television before we go to sleep.”

  Chapter 5

  MY DOORBELL RANG, AND the two of us exchanged a quick look before racing to answer it at the same time. I opened it to find no less than four very angry human beings standing on the other side.

  “Where the hell have you been?” a Hispanic man demanded the second he saw me. Then, without waiting for a reply, he pushed past me and made his way right into my house, with the others following obediently. “We came by twenty minutes ago, and you were gone. We literally circled the park just to pass the time before trying again.” He whirled around and jabbed an accusatory finger in my chest. “You
didn’t go to Starbucks, did you? To get a Frappuccino?”

  A sudden murmur rose from behind him, creepy, like some ancient monk chant in a dark and dreary temple.

  His eyes flashed dangerously. “Oh, so you did, didn’t you? I knew it! You little cheater! And we’re supposed to be the ones leading the way!”

  Nathaniel was that best friend of mine, the one who loved me enough to tell me that I needed to change everything about myself. If someone could earn a master’s degree in tough love, he would have graduated with honors.

  My eyes tightened with the beginnings of a terrible headache as I finally swung the front door shut. “And good morning to you, too.”

  The man wasted no time in making himself at home. Of course, that came as no surprise, since he’d spent about as much time there I as I had since I moved in a few years prior. “Oh, my goodness,” he said, his voice echoing out of the kitchen. “Where’s your coffee?”

  Wow. That only took you twenty seconds, buddy.

  I smiled blandly at Teresa, Maggie, and Pete, my three other employees, and gestured them to the living room as I hurried to meet Nate in the kitchen.

  He was staring, in utter horror, into the empty jar that once held beans. His feet seemed to be braced against the floor in a ready-to-pounce position, as if he might bolt back to the door at any moment...

  “Now do you understand why I went to Starbucks?” I said expectantly, crossing my arms and tapping my foot.

  He looked up with an absurdly grave expression on his face. “Sorry. I’ll never doubt you again.”

  I rolled my eyes and snatched the jar from his hands, then set it down on the counter in its proper place. Nate had always been a bit high strung, but since embarking on our calorie-counting and sugar-watching quest, his mood swings had become especially unpredictable. We were all encouraged to blog about our diet adventures or misadventures, and as of late, his testimonials had been rather grim, to the point where he literally wrote a pathetic poem called “The Bagel Blues.”