Forever Comes in Threes, page 3
Among other things, Julie had been her roommate most of her years in college and was now Perry’s public relations/social media/marketing guru. They had both worked from home since the beginning of the pandemic and kept in touch virtually each workday, but they met in person most Saturday mornings for a four-mile run, followed by a strategy session—the standing appointment Perry had forgotten because of her mother’s startling visit.
Perry temporarily forgot Julie again when a sleek, white Mercedes convertible parked next to Julie’s car. A woman with midnight-dark hair resting on her shoulders like spun silk gave them a long look before exiting the car. Large sunglasses hid her eyes but not the finely arched brows.
Turning to see what had captured Perry’s attention, Julie joined her in watching this perfect female specimen in skinny jeans stroll toward them.
“You called about some dogs that need to be rehomed?”
“Yes. Yes, I did,” Perry said, finally finding her voice. “Inside.” She held her arm out, indicating the door to her condo. Women didn’t normally cause her to trip over her own tongue, but she couldn’t seem to get words to form correctly. “I mean, please come inside. The dogs are in the backyard.”
The stranger lifted her sunglasses to rest on top of her head, revealing velvet-brown, slightly almond-shaped eyes. Perry had seen—even dated—many beautiful women, but something about this woman mesmerized her. She almost felt…familiar.
The woman held her hand out. “I’m Ming.”
Perry’s neck and ears heated with an embarrassed flush. Taking Ming’s hand in hers, she smiled. “Hi. I’m Perry. The one who called you.” An elbow to her ribs reminded her that she wasn’t alone. “And this is my friend and colleague, Julie.”
“Nice to meet you,” Ming replied, gently withdrawing her hand from Perry’s grasp to shake hands with Julie.
“Should we put this stuff in your car?” Julie asked.
Ming shook her head. “No. Sorry. My apartment is in a high-rise building, which is not conducive to keeping dogs. I just help the local rescue groups by evaluating possible intakes to point them toward the right new home or foster home, if no adoption prospects are immediately available.”
Ming spotted the dogs watching them through the back sliding-glass door when Perry opened the front door. “Our three subjects, I assume?”
“That’s them. Darling little dogs,” Perry said, hoping her enthusiasm would influence Ming to act quickly. “They belonged to my mother’s colleague, who died suddenly. I’m sure you can find homes for them right away.”
Ming hesitated, then bent to heft one of the twenty-pound bags of dog food. “You should bring everything inside. You wouldn’t want anyone to mistake it for free stuff.”
“Right.” Perry awkwardly wrestled the collapsed wire crates and three large, fluffy dog beds into her arms. “But don’t you worry about it. Julie and I can get it. Why don’t you go meet the dogs?”
Ming nodded and headed inside. Julie and Perry watched her drop the bag of dog food in the kitchen before walking into the backyard. The dogs greeted her like an old friend.
“They didn’t even bark at her,” Perry said.
“When did I become your pack mule?” Julie’s tone was teasing. “I’d say it was time for me to go home, but I think I’d rather stay and watch you drool. Besides, I haven’t heard the story of how your mother got away with dumping these dogs on you.”
“Can you cut me some slack, please? I’ll explain to both of you together.” She gave Julie her pleading puppy-dog-eyes face—no pun on the current situation intended.
An eye roll, then a shrug of acquiescence rewarded this blatant attempt at persuasion. Deceptively strong given her feminine appearance, Julie easily tucked the other twenty-pound bag of dog food under one arm while grabbing the handles of the two overstuffed totes with her other hand, then using it to also open and hold back the storm door.
“Shit.” Perry dropped the dog beds onto the polished hardwood floor, realizing that her navy running suit now looked like she’d used it as a lint roller. She’d also scraped the skin off the knuckles of her left hand as she squeezed through the doorway because she was too stubborn to make more than one trip to bring the cages and beds inside. It was actually bleeding. Bright, red…uh-oh. The room was starting to look a little fuzzy, and her knees felt suddenly weak.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Julie dropped her packages, then grabbed Perry’s arm and half-carried, half-dragged her toward the L-shaped island that separated the kitchen from the rest of the downstairs living area.
The dogs abandoned Ming and went crazy, barking and jumping against the patio’s glass door. Ming looked up and slid the door open.
“What happened?” she asked.
Perry was afraid she’d puke if she spoke, so she let Julie answer for her.
“It’s okay,” Julie said. “She scraped her hand on the door frame coming in, and the big baby faints at the sight of her own blood.”
“Do not.” Perry’s faint protest was lost among the howling that had replaced the chorus of barks.
“Sit,” Ming said, as Julie guided Perry to one of the tall chairs next to the island.
Perry wasn’t sure if Ming’s command was meant for her or the dogs, but it didn’t really matter. She immediately sat, closed her eyes, and bent to rest her cheek against the cool granite countertop.
“I’ll round up something to bandage her hand.” Julie opened the laundry nook and retrieved a first-aid kit.
Perry’s nausea began to fade, and after a few seconds, she realized the canine ruckus had gone silent. She opened her eyes and lifted her head. The howlers were sitting quietly, watching as Ming examined Perry’s bloody knuckles—the bloody knuckles Perry could no longer see because Ming had turned her back as she stood next to Perry’s outstretched arm, blocking Perry’s view of the wound. Ming’s dark hair hung within inches of Perry’s face, and she closed her eyes to inhale Ming’s spicy scent. If they were better acquainted and the circumstances different, Perry would have wrapped her legs around Ming to pull her closer, buried her nose in Ming’s silky hair, and kissed her slender neck. Julie’s return interrupted her momentary fantasy.
“You look like you know what you’re doing,” Julie said.
“I hope so, or else the state of California might want to take back my medical license.”
“You’re a doctor?” Perry’s mouth was near, so near Ming’s delicate ear, she could almost…
“Yes. Family medicine and naturopathy.” An infinitesimal tightening of Ming’s neck muscles was her only reaction to Perry’s breath brushing her cheek.
“Very cool. I dated a physical therapist once.” Julie sidled closer. “She had great hands.”
Perry scowled at Julie’s flirtation and obvious ploy to let Ming know she romanced ladies. “Please. You’re being modest, Julie. I’m pretty sure you’ve dated enough medical people to staff an entire hospital.”
Julie stuck out her tongue at Perry’s sarcastic remark. “I’m going to write off that remark as you being stressed about the dogs and your hand.”
Ming interrupted their bickering. “Could you find a couple of bottles of water and two bowls, please, Julie?”
Perry eyed the array of medical supplies Ming extracted from the first-aid kit. The thing that worried her most was the large syringe lying next to the bandages. “What are you going to do?”
“Squirt some saline over your hand to wash out any dirt, paint particles, or fur that might have adhered to your wound rather than your clothes.” Ming mixed a saline packet with water in one bowl and drew the solution into the ginormous syringe.
“Saline is salt water.”
“Damn, you’re smart,” Julie said. “And your point is?”
Perry scowled. “That’s raw flesh. Salt water is going to hurt…a lot.”
“It’s a very weak solution, not table salt,” Ming said as she gripped Perry’s wrist to hold her hand over the second bowl. “It won’t sting much.” Ming’s fine-boned, five-five body was small compared to Perry’s five-foot, eight-inch athletic frame, but her grip on Perry’s wrist was iron.
Julie grinned. “Buck up, buttercup.”
Ming released the saline in a gentle flow, increasing the pressure of the spray only when a stubborn dog hair clung to the wound. Still, Perry flinched, and Ming apologized as she carefully patted the knuckles dry with a sterile gauze pad. “You’ve mostly just lost a few layers of skin, which will make it pretty sore for a while, but I see only one cut, and it’s not deep enough for stitches,” Ming said.
“Thank God.” Perry couldn’t hope that Ming carried a suture kit in her car, and she sure didn’t want to spend hours at a doc-in-the-box on a Saturday. She glared at the dogs. “You’ve been here less than an hour and are already causing trouble.”
The wire-haired dog ducked his head and slinked away a few steps, while the schnauzer mix waved his tail tentatively. The female snorted, her stare challenging Perry’s accusation.
Ming’s melodious chuckle instantly softened Perry’s irritation. A good dousing with an antibiotic/lidocaine spray and a nonstick bandage and flex-wrap covering finished the job, and Ming turned to face her. “Molly questions whether you would have scraped your hand if you hadn’t tried to carry so much at once through the doorway.”
“Who’s Molly?” Julie asked.
Ming pointed to the female dog, the apparent pack leader, and the blue tag engraved with MOLLY that hung from her collar.
Perry examined her newly bandaged hand. The dog discussion could wait. “Thanks. I’m lucky you were in the area when I called.”
Julie laughed. “Luckier than you know. My usual treatment for a boo-boo is a kiss to make it better, but I wasn’t about to kiss that bloody mess.”
When Ming rounded the island to empty the bowls of saline into the sink, the dogs followed, focused on the bowls.
“They act like they know you already,” Julie said.
“They do,” Ming said, washing out one of the bowls and filling it with cold water before setting it on the floor. Two of the dogs crowded around to lap up the water, but the wire-haired boy hung back while Ming washed and filled the second bowl. “How long have they been in your backyard with no water or shade?”
“Huh?” Perry was contemplating a kiss treatment, but from Ming rather than Julie. Apparently, she’d missed the subject change, and Julie was charging ahead in their competition for Ming’s attention.
“They were out there when I arrived, but that was only minutes before you got here,” Julie said. She turned an accusing stare on Perry, blatantly aligning herself with Ming. “How long have those poor pups been left in the yard?”
Perry glared back. “I’d just taken them out back to relieve themselves when you showed up. So, minutes. Not hours. If they were thirsty, it’s because Mom hadn’t watered them before she dumped them here.”
Julie shook her head. “They’re not plants or horses, Perry. You don’t water them.” She turned to Ming, dramatically overplaying her hand, in Perry’s estimation. “She’s never had a pet and doesn’t know anything about caring for dogs.”
Her hand forgotten, Perry mentally reviewed their conversation. “Wait. You know these dogs? Did you know…you knew Amanda?”
“We collaborated on a research project concerning naturopathic medicines used by indigenous people. I’ve been to her home several times while working on the paper we published on the project. We worked together only a few months but became friends because of our mutual interest in dog rescues. I was shocked to hear about her death and wondered what happened to her pets.” Ming sat on the floor, and the two dogs, water still dripping from their beards, jostled to claim her lap. The nervous wire-haired terrier danced around them but didn’t pile on with the others. “She was torn about an opportunity because she had to spend several months among Amazon River tribes in Brazil, cataloging the plants they use for medical purposes. She didn’t want to leave these little guys, and the last time I talked with her, she was looking for a student to live at her house with them while she was gone.”
Julie frowned at Perry. “So, how did your mother end up with them? I know she didn’t offer to pet-sit, because she’s never had time for her daughter, much less three mutts.”
Perry cleared her throat and shot Julie a warning glare. She didn’t need to share Perry’s failed childhood with this beautiful stranger. “Well…Amanda, who is a long-time colleague of my mother’s, did go to the Amazon. Unfortunately, she caught a virus and died before she could be airlifted to a hospital. Her dying wish was for my mother to find homes for them, rather than let them be taken to a shelter.”
“So, Janice dumped them on you,” Julie said. “This is over the top, even for your mother.” Her voice rose with each angry word. “She treated you like you’re one of her lab assistants she can just order to take care of anything she doesn’t want to.”
“Kind of.” Perry couldn’t help thinking about her mother kissing her cheek and squeezing her shoulder.
“What does that mean?” Julie threw her hands up in exasperation, and the terrier scrambled for the patio door and huddled there when he found it closed. “Oh, honey. I’m sorry. Did I scare you?” He looked from his companions cuddled with Ming to the water bowl to Julie and finally to Perry.
“Mom was asked to finish Amanda’s research in the Amazon, so she left the dogs here to catch a plane to Brazil.” Perry offered Ming a shrug. “And she left your phone number in case I needed help.”
Ming stroked the schnauzer mix, who closed his eyes and snuggled against her chest. “Julie, would you place that second bowl at the end of the counter, then bring those two bags of their things over here?”
The nervous terrier eyed the bowl of fresh water but skittered away when Julie walked near him to retrieve the bags.
“Don’t look at Tucker,” Ming said, indicating the skittish dog. “Pretend you don’t see him.” She patted the floor beside her. “Both of you sit next to me so I can introduce you to them.”
“This floor might not be clean,” Perry said. “The cleaning service came Thursday, but the dogs have been walking all over.”
Julie and all three dogs, their fur pristine and neatly trimmed, stared at her. “Look at them,” Julie said. “Now, look at you.” She indicated Perry’s hair-covered, blood-stained jogging suit. “Who do you think should be worried about the floor being dirty?”
The female dog sniffed at Perry’s leg and sneezed as if to point out her untidy state.
“No comments from the canine chorus,” Perry muttered as she sat.
Ming kissed the top of the female dog’s head. “This is Molly, as you’ve probably deduced. She’s an old girl, estimated to be about thirteen. She was an adult when Amanda adopted her, so her age is a veterinarian’s educated guess.” She stroked the dog in her lap. “This love sponge is JT.”
As they talked, Tucker edged over to the water and began drinking.
“Tucker is the dog we’re ignoring, and Molly is Tucker’s mother. The litter was only a few days old when Molly and her pups were rescued from a bad home. Obviously, his father must have been a Jack Russell terrier, or something close, because other than identical black spots on their backs, he looks nothing like Molly.”
Tucker stopped drinking, pricking his ears forward, apparently at the sound of his name.
“Amanda told me that she adopted JT because Tucker needed a younger dog to run and play with. Molly just wasn’t interested or up to the job. If you forget who’s who, their names are on their collar tags.”
Tucker began to move closer.
Ming didn’t hold her hand out to him but pointed to the bags Julie had brought over. “I’ll bet we’ll find treats in one of those bags.”
All three dogs perked up at the word they recognized, and JT abandoned Ming’s lap to stick his nose in the bags Julie was searching. She came up empty-handed.
“Do you have cheese in your refrigerator, Perry?” Ming asked.
Perry stood to open it. “Let’s see…string, goat, feta, or American slices?”
“Let’s stick with string cheese. It’s mild and easy to break into bits.”
The dogs seemed to agree with the choice. Molly and JT instantly plopped their butts on the floor and watched Perry expectantly.
Ming waved her away when Perry tried to hand over the cheese. “Your house, so you are the alpha. They’ll recognize that fact and listen to your commands if you are their source of food and control their access to the outdoors.”
“I already have one injury. What if they nip my fingers?”
“They won’t. They’re very well-mannered.”
Uncertain, Perry eyed the dogs, then puffed out her chest, more to convince herself than her audience. “I am the alpha.”
“If you pee on the fridge, I’m leaving, Ms. Alpha Dog,” Julie said.
Perry was warming to her new role. She was an alpha—during her student days and now as head of her own successful company. She looked at the dogs and pointed to her chest. “I’m the alpha in this house, and you guys better listen to what I say.”
Molly tilted her head—clearly thinking this statement over—while JT wagged his tail. He seemed okay with that arrangement. Tucker shrank back a few feet. They all came to attention again when Perry sat and peeled the plastic from the first stick of cheese. She broke off a piece and held it out, but the dogs didn’t take it. “What am I doing wrong?” Perry asked.
* * *
Ming studied the tall, handsome woman. Perry was a puzzle. She didn’t appear to fear or dislike the dogs, but she displayed no natural instincts for handling them. No, the instincts were there in her body language toward the animals. She was just so…controlled. Why did Perry keep such a tight leash on herself?
