Home Is Where Your Bark Is

Chapter 8

Once again, Jenna glanced at Jake’s number on the back of the business card, then at the clock on the wall. Reading it caused less strain than it had last night. Maybe the broken night’s sleep had helped, or maybe the pain medicine was doing its job. In either case, she’d take what she could get.

It was a quarter to ten. She’d had breakfast, dozed, and talked to her doctor. Once they finished her release paperwork, Jenna could get out of here. If Monica didn’t call before they finished the paperwork, she’d get an Uber because she had no interest in waiting around, and she wasn’t in the mood to call a friend and then have to go into detail explaining what had happened.

There was one person she did want to call though. One person she wouldn’t have to explain much to, and given all he’d done for her, she certainly owed him the gesture…and an apology about the dog. Picking up the corded phone, Jenna dialed his number before she could change her mind.

He answered on the third ring. “Jake speaking.” Judging by the background noise, he was in a car.

Jenna’s hello momentarily fled as the comforting sound of his voice washed over her, placing her right back in the dark, cold truck with him kneeling at her side and holding her hand as he reassured her that help was on the way.

“Hello?” he repeated.

Either say something or hang up already. “Hey, Jake. This is Jenna. From last night. I found your number on the back of a policeman’s card and wanted to call and thank you.”

“Jenna.” Something about the short pause before he spoke again warmed her heart. “I’m glad you called. I’ve been thinking about you. How are you? In the hospital still, I take it.”

“Yeah, they wanted to keep me overnight since it seems I lost consciousness after the accident for a bit.”

“That was quite the blow you took. How are you feeling today?”

“Ahh, much better than last night. It was hard to stay awake at first, which I’m guessing you noticed, but I’m much more clearheaded now.”

“That’s great, but I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re fighting fatigue for a while.”

“Yeah, the doctor came in this morning and said I should plan on several naps the next couple of days.”

“Naps are one prescription that aren’t handed out enough, if you ask me.”

Jenna laughed for the first time all morning, and pain shot across her head. Even so, it didn’t wipe the smile from her face.

“Have you heard when you’re being released?”

“Soon, actually. Just waiting on the paperwork.”

“Oh yeah? If you need a ride, I’m like twelve minutes from Rush Medical right now. I’d be happy to swing by and take you home. Or wherever it is you’re headed.”

Jenna opened her mouth, but all her words stuck inside. She wanted to say yes, but would that be crazy? He was effectively a stranger.

“There’s something I should tell you anyway,” he added into her silence.

“Okay” slipped out before a more crafted response rose to the surface.

“Great! And I remember you saying you didn’t have your phone, so I’ll call this number when I pull in. No rush if you’re still waiting for release. Just come out when you’re ready. I’ll be in a Subaru Forester. Piney green. Not mine, my neighbor’s.”

Jenna thanked him and hung up, warmth zinging her cheeks. What was it he had to tell her? He’d been entirely too friendly and concerned to be about to go off on her over a responsibility he never should’ve been handed—taking the dog in for her. This reminded her that the whole purpose of her call had been to both thank him and apologize for asking him that, but the conversation had taken a very different turn. Better to do it in person, anyway.

And why was he in a neighbor’s car? Had his car been hit too? It had been so dark last night, and she’d been so out of it that she’d asked nothing about it. Or at least if she had, she didn’t remember.

Moving slowly from the stiffness that had set in, Jenna headed for the bathroom to look in the mirror and winced as the bright fluorescent light buzzed on. She had bed head and no makeup, and her Irish American complexion was especially pale. Above her left temple, a thin line of hair had been shaved away for the eleven stitches she’d needed. The Steri-Strips extending from the corner of her hair disappeared into her hairline and made it appear as if she had one eyebrow raised skeptically. The only thing she had going for her at the moment was that her blue-green eyes seemed particularly bright. Perhaps the knock on the head had done it.

She splashed water on her face and used the hospital-grade toothbrush she’d been given to brush her teeth, then headed over—moving slowly to keep the headache at bay—to the bench and her bag of clothes.

Her jaw nearly hit the floor to discover how much dried blood covered her jacket and sweater. Joseph’s Percy sticker was still stuck to it, and it was somehow unstained.

There’d be no wearing her sweater home. Not without looking like she was trying out for a part in a zombie apocalypse film. Her jeans weren’t much better. Dried blood had pooled on top of the left thigh next to the pocket.

Because walking out of here wearing her hospital garb was likely unacceptable, she wandered down the hall to see if there might be something she could borrow. As it turned out, the hospital’s lost and found was overflowing, and the med tech promised to swing by with a few options. “They’ve been sanitized,” she added in a way that sounded like she got that question often.

Jenna thanked her and headed back to her room, refusing to think about why they might’ve been left behind.

By the time she’d repacked her clothes and left a message with her sister—who Jenna was doing her best not to worry about, given the circumstances—the med tech had arrived with an armful of clothes. Jenna chose a pair of sweatpants several sizes too big and a long-sleeved T-shirt that she’d wash and return at the first opportunity.

By the time Jenna had changed and signed the final release paperwork, her room phone was ringing.

“Sorry about that. Took a bit longer with traffic,” Jake said.

“It’s perfect timing actually. They’re bringing up a wheelchair. Hospital policy. Otherwise, I’m ready to go.”

“No problem. I’m parked outside the main entrance. That work for you?”

“I think so. If not, I’ll find it.”

“See you soon then.”

Jenna’s heart fluttered. Should she be doing this? Getting a ride with a total stranger when she didn’t even have her cell phone to place a call should she need to? Probably not, but instinct told her it was okay. He wasn’t a creep. He was the kind of guy who waited in the rain with a stranger and took responsibility for a dog because he’d been asked to.

Five minutes later, Jenna was being wheeled outside into the chilly and bright March day. As Jake stepped out of the piney-green Subaru Forester to greet her, it occurred to her that the wheelchair had likely saved her from stumbling over her own two feet. Her patchy memory of last night hadn’t done him justice. He was the ogle-out-of-the-corner-of-your-eye kind of cute. Tall and lean with strong shoulders, dark-brown, almost-black hair that was a touch messed at the top, something between a short beard and a five-o’clock shadow lining his cheeks and jaw, and one of the kindest smiles she’d ever seen.

As a gust of wind swept in, the tech wasted no time retreating into the hospital, while Jenna clutched an overstuffed hospital bag, her purse slung over one shoulder. “Wow. I guess that cold front really moved through, huh?” The lake wind was as invigorating as the cup of coffee that she’d been advised to skip would’ve been.

“Yeah, but we’re finally into March, at least. February really hung on if you ask me.” He motioned toward her. “You look great though, considering what you went through…”

“Thanks.” Jenna lifted her bag. “Given the stains on these, I have a better sense of how bad I must’ve looked last night.”

“You gave me a scare; that’s for sure.” Jake jogged over to the car and opened the front passenger door. “I’ll crank up the heat in a second.”

Jenna froze in place as she spotted what was in the back seat. Not what, who . The dog.

“Yeah…about that.” Jake dragged a hand through his hair sheepishly. “I figured it was better to tell you in person.”

“I–I figured you would’ve taken him already. I’m so sorry…”

“It’s not your fault. I tried. I just couldn’t do it.”

“You never should’ve had to. I never should’ve asked you. Honestly, everything was so hazy after I got here that I wasn’t even sure I had.” The dog was staring at her through the side window and wagged his tail a beat or two in recognition. Jenna stepped closer to the rear passenger door and leaned down to see him better. “I’ve been worried about him.”

“I didn’t know him before, but my guess is he’s no worse for wear thanks to that seat belt.”

“Thank goodness. I’m so sorry for all of it.”

“If it helps, I haven’t done anything for anyone in a long time that I wasn’t committed to doing. I wanted to take him last night.”

“It helps,” Jenna said with a nod. “My sister… It ended up being a terrible month for her, the dog aside. She’s got two kids four and under. I don’t know what she was thinking. Actually, I do. She thought he’d help get some energy out of the boys, but things went the opposite direction.”

A short laugh escaped him at this last part. “A little over twelve hours in, I can see where that could happen.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened with taking him in last night?”

“The timing was tight. I didn’t even try. Then this morning I showed up, but I couldn’t get out of the car.” He lifted an eyebrow. “I talked to one of the staff there though. Nothing’s official, but I guess I’m fostering him for a while—given your sister’s okay with it. Until he enters through their doors and the paperwork is signed, technically, he belongs to her.”

“Wow. That’s wonderful!” The exclamation sent pain shooting through her head, and she toned it down a few notches. “I don’t see how she could be anything less than ecstatic.”

“That’s good—I guess.” A sheepish smile lit his face, showing a set of great teeth, the sight of which made Jenna’s mouth water just a touch. “Between me and you, I’m kind of freaking out about the decision.”

“It’s a big decision. I can see why.” Jenna thought back to the scratches across her sister’s expensive table. She was still standing outside the open car door, but he waved her in and waited, closing it behind her, a gesture she didn’t need but appreciated all the same.

As he headed around the front of the car, she turned to look back at the dog. “Hey, boy.” He was eyeing her intently. It happened so fast that she almost missed it, but his tail flicked in response. She wanted to reach back and sink her hand in that furry coat but knew he wouldn’t appreciate it. He endured petting with a similar dislike to a dog on a table at the vet’s office about to get its shots. “I owe you the biggest bully stick in the world, you know that? I’m so sorry I didn’t see that car coming. Thank God you’re okay.”

As Jake sat down and started the car, Jenna was reminded that the last time she’d been this close to him, she’d been holding his hand. After buckling in and tucking her purse behind her feet, she kept her hands busy with the handle of the bag on her lap. “Want that in the trunk?” he asked. “I can run it back there for you.”

“No thanks. I’m fine.”

Jake grabbed his phone from the center console and pulled up his maps app. “Want to give me your address so you don’t have to navigate?”

“Sure.” Jenna spouted it off, and Jake’s eyebrows lifted.

“Seriously? You’re in Logan Square? You’re like a mile or two from me. Tops. I would never have guessed that last night considering how we were halfway across town when you got hit.”

“I was coming from my sister’s and heading to the shelter.” With the doors closed, Jenna could smell equal parts leather and pine coming off Jake, blended with a touch of nervous dog floating up from the back seat. “And thanks. For picking me up. For last night. I guess I should be more sorry about what you’re taking on, but I’m not sorry for him, that’s for sure. He hates crates. A shelter kennel wouldn’t have been much better.”

A hint of a frown formed as he headed out of the hospital drive. “That doesn’t bode well for my apartment if I can’t crate him when I’m gone, does it? Last night he got a leg of my coffee table while I was in the shower and a shoe while right in front of me.”

Jenna bit her lip. “Maybe in this case it’s better for the honeymoon to end before it really begins. He’s got what it takes to be a good dog though, I’m sure of it. He’s great with little kids. Supersmart too. If there’s any help you need, I’m happy to do what I can. I mean it.”

“Any reason you didn’t want to take him on then? When your sister couldn’t.”

“Several.” Meeting his gaze as he glanced her way after pulling onto the Eisenhower Expressway, Jenna gave a little shrug. “First, it was a sister thing. At least, a my-sister thing. I tried to dissuade her from adopting such a high-energy dog in the first place, as chaotic as her life is, and I step in more than I should most of the time, anyway. On top of that, I sort of have two jobs I’m juggling. I don’t have time for a dog unless it’s a couch potato, but even then, I’d feel bad to leave one alone so long.”

“What’d you mean by that? You sort of have two jobs.”

Jenna shrugged. “I have one that pays the bills that I could do without and one that I’d love to see pay more of the bills than it does.”

Jake lifted a finger off the steering wheel. “Let me guess. You’re a writer.”

“Not even close,” Jenna said with a laugh. “And why a writer?”

“I don’t know. Seems like everybody’s a writer these days. So…” Jake cocked an eyebrow. “You gonna tell me, or do I have to guess?”

Jenna smiled. “You most certainly have to guess now.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because you’re so sure of yourself.”

Jake made a stabbing motion toward his chest, grinning. “Ouch.”

“In a good way.” She brushed her fingers over his wrist. “Confident but not conceited, at least judging by first impressions.”

“Thank you, though now I feel pressure to get the next guess right.”

“Not on my end.”

He narrowed his gaze in thought. “How about a food artist of some sort? What’s the in thing lately? Boozy cakes?”

Jenna laughed. “Definitely not. I love to cook but hardly ever bake, but no, my side gig has nothing to do with food. Or booze.”

“But you do make something?”

Jenna narrowed her eyes. “Depends on your definition of ‘make.’”

“Candles?”

“Nope.”

“Stained glass?”

“That’s a jump, but no.” A glance at his phone showed they had sixteen minutes till they reached her place. “Tell you what. If you haven’t guessed by the time we get my place, I’ll show you.”

In the back seat, the dog let out a single woof that pierced the air. When Jenna glanced back, he was looking between them, ears pricked forward, an inquisitive look in his eyes. “I wonder if he has to go to the bathroom or if he’s just tired of the car. He’s not very patient, this one.”

“He went before we headed out earlier, but I’ll take him out when we get to your place, so long as you don’t mind.”

Jenna shrugged. “Sure thing. He’s been there once before with my sister and the boys. Mostly he stayed outside in the yard and ran around in the snow.”

Jake glanced her way sharply. “I thought you said you had an apartment.”

“Well, technically, my place is in a hundred-and-something-year-old house. The owners live on the bottom floor. The top floor was split in two during the Depression. I share it with a resident cardiologist at Rush who pretty much only comes home to sleep. My favorite thing about where I live is the yard out back, and it’s proved to be of no interest to anyone but me.”

“Any chance that yard is fenced?”

Jenna nodded. “It’s no Lincoln Park, but yeah, it’s adequately sized and adequately fenced.”

“How tall is that fence? Because I hear he’s a jumper.”

“Six feet, I guess. Your typical privacy fence.”

Jake shook his head and a smile played on his lips. “A minute or so ago when you said if there was anything you could do…”

“Yeah?”

“I’m in a second-story condo of a building with a backyard that’s been converted to garages and a handful of stone patios for the residents. There are six of us owners all together. A couple-foot-wide strip of landscaping separates the patios from the garages, but there’s no fence and not a blade of grass anywhere.”

“You’re welcome to use my yard, but if you’re looking for a place for him to go to the bathroom, from what I see of dog walkers, it’s typically along the sidewalk, decomposable bag in tow.”

“I’m not worried about that. I plan to jog with him, but I need a place to work him that’s free of other dogs for now. You’re a mile or so away. You’ve got a fenced-in yard. What more could I ask for?”

Suddenly Jenna’s world seemed to be lining up in a very unexpected way, and her pulse raced at the idea of getting to know this person beside her better. She glanced back at the dog to find that his full attention was still homed in on them. “Dog, it seems this is your lucky day in more ways than one. But I can tell you right now, I’m going to rope off my garden before anything significant comes up.” Turning her attention back to Jake, she added, “Last time he was there, he was all over it, but it was covered in snow, so it was fine.”

“You garden?”

Jenna nodded.

He gave her a discerning glance. “I can see that about you.”

“Is it the hospital lost and found or lack of any makeup that speaks to you more?”

He laughed. “No, there’s just a calmness about you. Like a tree that holds steady in a storm. It’s easy to envision someone like that gardening.”

“Says the same man who just asked if I made boozy cakes.” It was a deflection—her go-to reaction when something touched her unexpectedly.

Jake lifted an eyebrow. “Maybe the best thing about all this is it’ll give me a chance to get to know you better.”

And Jenna figured maybe, just maybe it was her lucky day too.