Something New

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

“But, Mom, I don’t want it,” I said from our SUV’s backseat. I touched the pendant where it still hung around my neck.

“Honey, it’s lovely. I hate that we couldn’t find that kind woman and thank her for it.” Mom glanced in the rear-view mirror and met my eyes.

“But what about how she’d known my name? That’s weird, right?”

“She’s probably a customer of mine who’s seen you in the shop.” Mom flipped on her blinker and checked her mirror before changing lanes.

“But you said she didn’t sound familiar.” I’d found Mom immediately after searching the parking lot for the old woman and told her what had happened. She’d oohed and awed over the necklace, rambling on about the design and checking it for makers marks and how she thought it was over a hundred years old, blah, blah, blah—completing missing the fact that I was freaked out about the disappearing woman.

“Miriam, do you know how many elderly women I’ve sold pieces to in the last nineteen years?” She raised her brows.

“No, Mom, do you?” I crossed my arms.

She raised one brow. “Attitude, young lady.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “It was strange.. She was strange.” I threw up my hands. “It creeped me out. I’d just like to give it back if we can find her. Maybe she came back after we left. We should go back and check.”

“I looked for her, remember?” Dad said. He had gone on a brief search asking if anyone might know her, but after a half hour, he’d shrugged and suggested we pay for our items and hit a few more sales before lunch. “We still have two sales I want to check out.” Dad held up the newspaper where he’d circled the day’s prospects. Isaac Gabriel looked more like one of his students than a university professor with his brown curls and blue v-neck sweater, especially when his green eyes sparkled behind his glasses at the prospect of finding a hidden treasure.

“You said that two houses ago. Can we eat now?” Jake whined from the seat beside me.

“Jake, relax. That’s my next stop, and, Miriam, I already told you I’d make some calls next week and see if some of the other shop owners might know her.” Mom shook her head as she turned the SUV into the parking lot of Bethany’s Burgers, Jake’s favorite restaurant. I guessed she was trying to make up for keeping him out all day even though he was supposedly being punished. Mom can’t stay mad. It’s one of the things I loved and hated about her.

“Sweetie, it’s beautiful. Just be happy and grateful,” Dad said. His overlong, brown curls bounced as he shoved his crinkled paper beside the seat and unbuckled his seatbelt.

“Yeah, you’re being dumb. Who doesn’t like a gift even if it was a weird, old chick? Be glad someone likes you. ” Jake smirked at me, then unbuckled his own seatbelt and opened his door.

“Not helpful, Jake.” Mom turned to face me. “It’s a little something new, honey, not anything to worry about.” She opened her door. “Grab my wallet from my backpack please.”

I watched her close her door and walk into Dad’s arms for a hug before I reached down for her backpack where it lay on the floor at my feet. The clover pendant swung forward when I bent to unzip the bag, and the stone caught the sun, splashing mini-rainbows on the back of the seat in front of me. I ran my hand against the leather, the rainbows dancing across my skin, and remembered the way the old woman had gripped that same hand. Her cold touch, her brilliant eyes, the way she’d known my name even though I hadn’t introduced myself—the meeting wouldn’t leave my mind. I couldn’t brush it off like Mom and Dad suggested.

A bang against the glass beside me made me jump. “What’re you doing? Hurry up. I’m starving.” Jake’s face filled the glass.

I grabbed Mom’s wallet and waved it at the window. “I’m coming, okay?”

Jake shook his head and mumbled something about being the slowest person alive as he turned back toward the restaurant’s entrance where Mom and Dad waited. I touched the clover where it lay against my sweater. This definitely felt like more than something new.

****

“I’m going to watch the game.” Jake kicked off his shoes and set down Mom’s bags on the round cherry table in the center of the foyer. Lowering his hood, he shook out his curls like a wet dog. Right after lunch, the sky had clouded over, and a light rain had fallen on us as we made our last two stops.

“I’ve told you more times than I can count to stop leaving your shoes in the doorway.” The wet rubber soles of Jake’s shoes squeaked across the tile when Mom kicked them to the side as she put down the two bags she was carrying.

Dad struggled as he balanced a painting of a little girl in a field of daisies on top of an iridescent blue vase. He used his foot to close the heavy oak door. The painting teetered, and Mom ran over to catch it. “Careful, honey.” She set the painting on the table. “I’ll go get the rest.”

Dad set down the vase beside the painting. “Just wait. I’ll get it all later when the rain stops. I’m going to work on the connecting door to the garage, see if I can get it unstuck. Jake, come help me.”

“But what about the game?” Jake complained. He tugged his damp sweatshirt over his head and dropped it on top of the painting, revealing his white t-shirt underneath.

“Record it. Come on.” Dad put his arm around Jake, who rolled his eyes.

“Watching a recording isn’t the same, Dad.”

“No, and neither is a full weekend in your room.” Dad smiled as Jake dropped his head.

“That door’s been messed up for a week. It’ll be okay for a few more hours. I promise to help without complaining when the game’s over. That’s reasonable, right?” He cut his eyes at Dad and grinned.

“No dice, pal. Let’s go.” Dad gave him a little push down the hall. “It’ll be great father-son bonding time.”

“More like cruel and unusual punishment,” Jake grumbled. But Dad laughed and patted Jake’s shoulder as they started toward the garage door.

I put Mom’s backpack on the table. “You need help?”

“I got it. You go on.” She pulled the painting from beneath Jake’s hoodie and began tilting her head as she examined it closer. I knew she’d be lost in her purchases for the next couple of hours, searching the net to find out more about each one so she could talk some future customer into buying it.

“I’m going to my room for a while.” My feet were hurting, and I wanted to change clothes and snuggle under my blanket for an hour in the solitude of my room. I started to lift the strap of my bag over my head on my way to the mahogany staircase that had been such a selling point when Mom and Dad were house shopping.

“Oh, Miriam, before you go upstairs, will you feed Cain?”

“Now?” It was my turn to complain. Cain was our German Shepherd—no, not really ours, more like theirs. About three years ago, one of Mom’s faithful customers who was a dog breeder had offered the pick of the litter in exchange for a bureau. Mom had never had a dog when she was a kid, and even though Jake and I were a little old for the whole first pet thing, she’d made the trade. I guess as dogs go he was okay. The breeder had supplied an impressive pedigree and gone on and on about his champion sire, but Cain and I never really clicked. He wasn’t aggressive towards me, but he wasn’t gaga about me like he was with Jake, who typically took care of him.

“Yes, now.” Mom glanced at me. “He’s a member of this family, too, and Jake’s busy with your father.”

I suppressed the urge to talk back and settled for an eye roll before trudging through the arched entryway that led to the kitchen. Mom loved to cook, and since she spent so much time in the kitchen, she’d painted it marigold because she said it made her happy, and though “vintage” was her life, the kitchen was modern. The stainless steel appliances looked strange next to her hundred-year-old buffet and matching table, but the whole place was perfectly suited to my mother.

Across the kitchen were the French patio doors. I stopped at the huge stainless steel trash can where Mom stored Cain’s food, stepped on the foot pedal that opens the lid, and used the scoop inside to dip out some food before I unlocked the doors. Peeking outside, I couldn’t see him anywhere, so I assumed he was inside his house. Cain spent his days outside in the fenced backyard where Dad built him a doghouse big enough for two dogs.

Light rain pattered on the concrete patio. I wasn’t exactly happy about going out in it again. “Cain!” When I called, he poked his long black muzzle expectantly from the doorway of his house. His ears perked for a second before he fully realized it was me and not his beloved Jake. “Come on. I’ve got your food.” I shook the plastic measuring cup, rattling the food inside to coax him out. Mom likes for him to eat at least an hour before we bring him inside for the night to make sure he has time to do his business. But he pulled his head back in, uninterested in my offering.

I stepped closer to his bowl, crinkling my nose at the water that had collected inside before I dumped it, then put his food inside. When he heard the food fall into the bowl, he stuck his head out again. “Come on, you know Mom will be mad.” As if he understood, he slipped from his house, stretching his long legs in front of him before full-body shaking and sending up a cloud of hair. That’s one reason he stayed outside part of the time—a coat that never seems to stop shedding. Mom says she can only stand a part-time inside dog. I reached out to rub his ear, but he backed up a step. His ears stood alert as he c****d his head.

“Oh, now you don’t want me to pet you?” I stepped toward him again, and he backed up, like some weird dance. “What’s wrong with you?”

Cain barked loudly, the way he does when someone rings the doorbell. Cain’s bark fit his size. At almost ninety pounds and with paws the size of my hand, he wasn’t exactly small, and that bark usually managed to make visitors back off the porch. Even though I’d heard it a million times, it always made me jump. The measuring cup fell from my hands and clattered on the patio.

“Cain!” I snapped my fingers like Mom does when she wants him to hush. Not missing a beat, he continued to bark. “Cain, stop!”

“What’d you do to him?” Jake asked from the patio door.

“Me? I didn’t do anything. He’s freaking out.”

Jake walked toward Cain. “What’s the matter, buddy?” He held out his hand, and Cain jogged to him, licking his hand before dunking under it for the ear rub I was going to give before he completely flipped his lid. Jake knelt while Cain licked his face. “Yeah, he just missed me, didn’t you?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be fixing something?” I crossed my arms.

“Dad said I could go watch the game.” He peeked over his shoulder at me. “The trick is to get in the way more than you help. Works every time.” He turned back to Cain and nuzzled against his head before standing. “Wanna watch the game with me?”

I bent to pick up the cup I’d dropped when Cain started barking. “I’ve got work to do.”

His brows dipped when he looked at me before he grinned. “I was talking to the dog. Come on, Cain.” He moved toward the door, but Cain stood his ground, facing me again and barking wildly when Jake stopped next to me.

Jake and I exchanged looks. “Man, you really pissed him off. What’d you do?” he repeated.

I threw up my free hand. “I didn’t do anything. He’s never liked me. I don’t know why Mom sends me out here.”

Jake whistled, then patted his thigh. “Let’s go, buddy. Inside.” But Cain took a step closer; his bark echoed. “It’s okay, Cain. Nobody likes her.” Jake shot me a grin.

“Funny. I’ll go in, and maybe he’ll calm down.” I’d have to go around Jake to get inside, but I really didn’t think going between him and his hairy best friend who seemed to hate me at the moment was such a great plan, so I tried to squeeze between Jake and wall of the house. When I did, I put my hand on Jake’s back to nudge him forward.

Cain went crazy. He charged toward us. I squealed and cowered behind Jake, peeking over his shoulder to see snapping jaws and flying slobber.

“Jake! Do something!”

Jake grabbed Cain’s collar and jerked him away. “Cain, no! What’s wrong with you!”

I didn’t waste any time. I skidded inside the kitchen and slammed the door.