Home Is Where Your Bark Is

Chapter 10

Eyes blinking open, Jenna attempted to get a handle on the disorientation crowding in ahead of the rush of memories of the last twenty-four hours. She was snuggled in bed under her comforter, and soft sounds of someone working in the kitchen pressed in through the closed door. For a second, her mind flashed to Jake. Because him being in your apartment wouldn’t be creepy.

Aside from Jenna’s landlords, only one person had a key to this place—her sister. Monica was the only person who could be given a pass for entering without permission. Jenna winced as she got to her feet. From the midspine up, it’d be a challenge to find a spot that didn’t range from sore to darn-right painful. Clearly, the hospital-grade pain meds had worn off. She crossed her fingers that the over-the-counter stuff would do the trick, but she wasn’t holding out much hope.

“Hey there,” she said after peering around the corner to where her sister was working at the gas stove.

Monica gave a start. “Oh, hey, sleepyhead. I didn’t hear you get up. When I came in twenty minutes ago, you were out like a light.”

Jenna glanced at the clock. It was a quarter to five. She’d slept through the better part of the day without waking once. “For a few hours, at that, it turns out. So, how’d it go this morning? And yay to grilled cheese.” The sight of the sandwiches in the cast-iron skillet—thick, buttered artisan bread with layers of cheese—set Jenna’s mouth to watering.

“I figured in the land of grilled-cheese-worthy days, this one takes the cheese. Stuart’s taking the boys to his parents’ house in Lake Forest for dinner so that you and I can hang out for a while.” Monica raised the hand with the spatula and rolled her eyes. “And don’t even get me started on how he can’t handle the boys alone at the house for a couple hours. He likes to fill up the minutes, that one.”

Jenna cocked an eyebrow, then winced from the pain rippling across her stitches.

“In case you hadn’t yet noticed the level of this impending deliciousness, I stopped on the way over and picked up a loaf of D’Amato’s bread. I got a bag of fresh kettle chips too. And I picked up Margie’s ice cream for dessert.”

“Mmm. I’d say we’re set then.” Parched, she poured a glass of water from the pitcher in the fridge and drank it all.

“In case there was any question as to what the last couple days of worry and nausea have done to my appetite,” Monica said with a nod toward the pan. “I’m making three instead of two.”

Monica ate like a picky toddler when stressed, so her getting an appetite back promised things hadn’t gone too awry earlier. Jenna didn’t think it was her imagination that her sister looked less on edge, too, but quite possibly that was because of the cozy lounge pants and hoodie she was wearing or the way all her hair was piled on top of her head with a few lose strands spilling down her neck. “Nice. But about today—it went okay?”

“Yeah, it went alright. My boob itches and burns a little. We should get the results tomorrow, but Stuart pressed the doctor, and she seems to be leaning toward duct ectasia like she mentioned before. I kind of wish I hadn’t heard that because now I’ve floated into the land of ‘I don’t have cancer and everything’s going to be okay.’” Her voice pitched suddenly. “Is it too much to ask to nurse one more baby through her first year?”

Monica and Stuart weren’t finding out the baby’s sex, but ever since the day Monica had found out she was pregnant with baby number three, she’d been on a kick that it was going to be a girl.

“No, it isn’t too much to ask.” Jenna stepped close and squeezed her sister’s arm.

“Enough about my stuff.” Monica blinked back the tears fighting their way to the surface. “How are you doing? About last night… I never should’ve asked you to take him back for me. I get that now.”

Jenna shrugged. “I’m okay. I have through the end of next week off work, if I need it. We’ll see how it goes.”

“Oh my God! Are those stitches?” Monica was really looking at her for the first time, her darker eyes lighting with concern. “What cut you?”

“Just the impact, I guess. The window didn’t break.”

“You should never have been driving around in a twenty-year-old truck. Stuart and I could’ve helped you get something newer.”

“That’s a hard pass on taking money from you two, and you know it.” Seeing the way Monica pursed her lips, Jenna knew this meant her sister was saving the conversation for another time.

“Let me see, will you?”

Jenna cautiously lifted her hair as Monica leaned close. “It’s sore today, so no touching.”

“That’s a lot of stitches! You hit your head hard, Jenna.” Monica frowned, and a crease populated between her brows. “Did you call Dad and tell him yet?”

“How could I? You’ve had my phone, and besides, I slept all afternoon.”

“I figured you’d have called him from the hospital.”

Jenna made an effort to keep her expression unchanging. “He’s got his own stuff to worry about.”

“He’ll want to know.” Monica’s mouth turned down in a frown. “He’s really been trying lately. Stopping by every week to see the boys and all.”

“I know. I’ll call him tomorrow.” When anyone asked, Jenna hardly ever let on that her relationship with her dad was anything other than fine, and the truth of it was, if there was strain there, it was on her part. He might have a new family and career that kept him busy, but he was trying. He’d lived out in Skokie ever since remarrying back when she and Monica were in college. His new family wasn’t why she held a grudge though. She’d reached a place of forgiveness over how he’d drank himself out of a job in the years after their mom died. What she had a hard time getting past was that, from sixth grade on when her mom passed, she and her sister had mostly been raised by their maternal grandparents. It had been hard enough to lose her mom; having her dad shut down like that had been devastating.

“Will you?” Monica’s tone carried a hint of doubt.

“Yeah. I will.” Jenna meant it too.

After searching her gaze another second or two, her sister gave a single nod, and the stress left her face as quickly as it had appeared—classic Monica. She flipped off the burner but left the cast-iron skillet in place. “Couch or table, where’re we eating this?”

“Couch.” Jenna pulled down two of the ceramic plates she’d bought at the market where she sold her plants. She’d been adding to the collection little by little. The plates, which had been locally cast, were earthy and beautiful, and meals always seemed better on them. “Want me to put on the kettle for tea?”

“One step ahead of you. It’s already hot.”

“Perfect.” Jenna headed for the pantry next. “In caffeine-free options, we’re limited to chamomile and blueberry.”

“Blueberry.”

Jenna poured two steaming cups and headed into the living room where she placed them on coasters. After loading their plates with sandwiches and kettle chips, Monica followed her in. “You’re still mad at me, aren’t you? I can tell. You’re acting weird.”

Jenna had just finished getting comfortable on the couch under a blanket and had closed her eyes a second, noticing where all the stiffness had set in, but she pulled herself upright at her sister’s question. “Monica, I’m not mad. I’m not feeling the greatest, but I’m not mad.”

“You were mad last night. Before you got in the accident.”

“I was mad at myself, if I was mad at anyone.”

“For taking the dog when you didn’t want to?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Resting her plate on her lap, Jenna took a bite of the sandwich and let out a groan of approval. “This is your best grilled cheese yet,” she mumbled. “Delicious.”

After taking her own bite, Monica closed her eyes and leaned back against the couch. “I needed this.” She flattened a hand against her stomach. “Please, baby, let me keep it down.” Part and parcel to Monica’s belief in the baby being a girl was the fact that she’d contended with more morning sickness this time than in either of her pregnancies with the boys. “I brought the Havarti, but I used your cheddar. They should get married, those two cheeses.”

“Or at least make a baby.” After another bite, Jenna wiped her mouth with a linen napkin. “Hey, so, about the dog…there’s something you need to know.”

Monica’s expression instantly crumbled. “You said he wasn’t hurt!”

“He wasn’t. He’s no worse for wear, promise. But he’s not at the shelter.” When Monica looked like she was about to bombard her with questions, Jenna held up a hand and gave her a short play-by-play of what had happened—how Jake had taken Seven in last night, and how he made the decision this morning to foster him.

When she finished, Monica shook her head. “I don’t get it. Why would some random guy you were in an accident with be willing to foster my dog?”

Jenna’s skin pricked at the my rolling off her sister’s tongue, given how she’d surrendered him. Then again, Monica had been his primary caregiver for close to a month, even if it hadn’t worked out. “I don’t know Jake well enough to answer that, but whether I should’ve or not, I asked him to step in last night, and he did. And I’m guessing he likes dogs, Seven in particular, or he wouldn’t be doing this.”

“Seven?”

“Yeah, that’s what we’re—he’s—calling him. When Jake realized he’d been turned in six times already, he couldn’t be the one to make it a seventh.”

Monica shook her head in disbelief. “I had no idea he’d been turned in six times before. That’s terribly sad, but also kind of vindicating.”

“To know you weren’t the only person he wouldn’t listen to?”

“Yeah, not even close.” Suddenly, Monica gave her a sharp look. “How exactly do you know all this? Your phone’s still in my purse. Please don’t tell me this guy is how you got home from the hospital. You said a friend was picking you up, not a stranger.”

The fact that Jenna was quick to drop her sister’s gaze likely said it all. “With all you had going on this morning, I figured less is more when it came to details in your voicemail.” When her sister was still staring at her hard, she added, “He gave his number to the officer who did the accident report. I called him, and he was in the area. Turns out, he lives a couple blocks off California, like a five-minute drive from here.”

Monica cocked her head. “First, I’d like to note that you called him from the hospital and not Dad, but we’ll circle back to that another time. Second, how old is he? And is he gay?”

Jenna coughed over a mouthful of sandwich even though she knew her sister’s train of thought. Monica was a firm believer that her gay guy friends were kinder than her straight ones, and no doubt this train of thought circled back to Jake taking the dog. “Ah, my age, a little older maybe, and I doubt he’s gay. He mentioned an ex-girlfriend.”

“This whole thing seems off.” Monica pointed a finger her direction. “If he isn’t gay, then clearly he’s doing this because he wants to get in your pants.”

“Surely you remember how hard it is to handle that dog. If that’s what he was interested in—which I’m not saying I think he is—there are easier ways to ask a girl out than to foster a high-energy border collie.”

“But you’re clearly thinking of saying yes if he does?”

Jenna shook her head. “Are we even having the same conversation, because I’m pretty sure we aren’t.”

Monica’s eyes narrowed even more. “What if he’s a stalker? What if he caused the accident?”

Jenna groaned. “He couldn’t have caused the accident.” Setting her plate on the coffee table, she leaned forward and made a play-by-play of the accident using her remote and two paperbacks that she pulled from a basket at the side of the couch—at least as much of the accident as she’d pieced together, given her disjointed memory of last night. “So, see,” she finished up, “it was me who was rammed into him.”

When Monica reluctantly accepted this, Jenna figured she might as well get the second part of the story out there too. “Since he lives so close to here and he doesn’t have a yard of his own, I told him he could use the backyard to let Seven run.”

Monica blinked. “Says the girl who’s always talking about boundaries. You’re giving a perfect stranger free rein of your backyard?”

“I’m not always talking about boundaries, thank you.” Even as she said this, Jenna’s earlier ease with this newly formed arrangement threatened to disintegrate. What had she been thinking, telling a perfect stranger he could use the yard whenever he wanted? Closing her eyes, she pressed her thumb into her temple.

Reading into her silence, Monica added, “Just be on your guard, if you’re set on doing this.”

“I thought you’d be happy about the dog.”

“Of course, I’m happy about the dog!”

Jenna settled back against the couch again. “Look, I’m going to trust my instincts here. And you know that’s a lot harder to do for me than it is for you.”

“Tell me about it,” Monica mumbled over a bite of sandwich.

Jenna opted to ignore the side comment. “Jake’s a good guy. He stayed at my side and waited for an ambulance with me. He’s been nothing but polite and respectful. And as you know, he’s going to have his hands full with Seven.”

“Seeing how the boys couldn’t wear him down, and they’re nonstop unless they’re asleep, I don’t doubt that.” Meeting her gaze, Monica held up a finger. “And fine. I’ll let it go, but there’s a weird energy here. That’s all I’m saying.”

Jenna thought back to the goodbye she’d exchanged with Jake earlier and the feeling that had bubbled up inside her as he held on to her hand for a few seconds longer than needed. Monica was closer to her than anyone else on this planet. Without fail, she knew when Jenna was two days out from her period, so much so that Jenna now set her calendar by it. Monica knew when she was mad and not ready to admit it. Knew a thousand other things too.

Maybe that’s what all this was. Maybe Monica was just picking up on what Jenna wasn’t ready to admit aloud yet.