Twilight time, p.8
Twilight Time, page 8
His lips twisted as if he tried to keep his laughter in check. “Did that ever happen?”
“No.” She held up her index finger. “But it could have! I wasn’t about to risk losing a plum story for something as inconvenient as a forgotten passport.”
“Personally, I’d find the eighty-year-old bungee jumper more fascinating, but...” He shrugged. “Whatever. Either way, I guess that means we’ll be doing both sides of the falls. Now, aren’t you glad you’ve got those hiking shoes?”
“I was glad the minute I walked out of the store,” she admitted. “Thanks. And I will pay you back.”
He didn’t scoff. “Come on,” he said instead, wrapping her arm inside his. “Let’s eat. I’m starved. And we’ve got a looooong drive ahead of us.”
After a fabulous lunch, Spence began the long drive through two states while Maia worked on her laptop, editing whatever mess he’d created for her. At her insistence, he’d tuned the radio to a satellite station that played Top Twenty pop hits. God help him, his brain felt like oatmeal as he listened to the simple melodies and childish lyrics.
“Tomorrow,” she told him, “we’ll introduce you to real modern rock bands. Not a single Beatle among them. Each day going forward we’ll cover a different musical genre. Everything but classical. If you’re lucky, I might even try the show tune station on you. They play more than the soundtrack from that Broadway play you used to work for. It would be good to fully round out your musical education. There’s so much more to the music world than snotty stuff.”
If tonight’s selection was any indication, he’d prefer to remain ignorant. After hearing the same inane song for the third time in about two hours, he couldn’t take anymore. He dared to change the station to all news, thinking with her headphones in place, she’d never notice.
“Hey! Put that back.”
Crap. She noticed.
Sheepish, he flipped back to the repetitive music. After a while, rather than complain about the music, he began studying the mechanics of the songs, looking for the lure. All the tunes seemed to have the same chord progression: I, V, vi, IV, in mostly the keys of C and G major. This sameness made the melodies happy, fun, comfortable in their familiarity.
By hour four, his toes tapped with the rhythm. At hour five, he found himself singing along to the chorus on several songs. When he reached the six-hour mark, he’d figured out the appeal. This was mind candy. He would imagine younger fans, pre-teens most likely, would appreciate the subtle differences as they figured out what they liked and what they didn’t in their personal musical tastes. Ditto for the hard worker who only listened for a short amount of time during a commute or the frazzled parent who just needed a few minutes of downtime before the kids woke up from their nap or got off the bus or finished their homework. A short burst of dopamine to bring a smile and lighten the atmosphere.
At this point, Maia had already disappeared to the top level with Lily to sleep, so he could’ve changed the station, yet strangely, he kept listening. When he drove toward the entrance of the RV park, he was still listening—and smiling. After checking in, he drove to their reserved space, parked, and turned off the music at last. Tomorrow was time enough for the hookups, scenery, and discussions about mind candy. Right now, he needed sleep.
He climbed up to the top level and found Maia asleep in her bed, Lily curled up at her feet. The minute he reached his bed in the opposite corner, the dog rose, stretched, and moved to a bed an equal distance between them. Spence chuckled softly.
How had Maia referred to Lily earlier? Our girl. Well, that she was—loyal to both, never playing favorites.
Wired after the long drive, he found sleep eluded him, despite his exhaustion brought on by the activities of the day. He closed his eyes and counted his inhales and exhales, a relaxation technique an old yoga-loving girlfriend had taught him. Unbidden, a melody bloomed in his head that went along with the lyrics he’d mentally toyed with over the last two days. No surprise the chord progression mirrored the pop songs he’d listened to all night. On instinct, the fingers on his right hand found their positions on an invisible violin, and he wondered if he should get out of bed and write it all down.
No need, he thought to himself. He wouldn’t forget it. The song had burrowed into his brain like a termite. He glanced at the opposite corner of the sleeping area where Maia slept.
Maybe the woman who’d inspired the tune had done the burrowing.
He had no memory of drifting off to sleep, but he woke to sunlight streaming through the window above him and the hypnotic smell of coffee and... (sniff!) toast?
Sure enough, after he dressed and descended to the main area, he found Maia slathering a toasted sesame bagel with peanut butter.
“Morning!” she greeted him with a cheery smile. “Coffee?”
He took in the toaster oven and coffeemaker on the counter behind her, both plugged in. “You hooked up the power?”
She took a bite of her bagel, nodded as she chewed, then swallowed. “And the water so we can shower.”
“I was going to take care of all that when I got up. You should’ve waited.”
She waved him off with her bagel half. “I figured you were wiped after driving most of the day and half the night yesterday. Besides, it wasn’t hard. By the way, you can actually hear the falls from here—at least, I could at six this morning. I’d imagine the more crowded this place gets, the more the nature sounds get drowned out. But right now? It’s magical. It’s like this powerful whoosh in the air and the mist kisses your bare skin like pixie dust and—”
She closed her mouth in mid-sentence, her cheeks turning pink, and tiptoed to the other side of the RV where Lily lay curled up on the bench.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured to the floor. “I’m keeping you from the coffee. I’ve been up for a while and since I’ve always been a morning person, I tend to start chattering before most people have their eyes fully open. Get some caffeine into your blood. There’s some of those non-dairy creamer cups I swiped from the café yesterday if you don’t drink it black. Have a bagel, too. No butter, but the peanut butter gives you more protein anyway and...” She sighed and slid onto the bench seat beside the dog, her eyes never looking up. “Shoot. I’m doing it again. I’m sorry. My tongue sometimes runs ahead of my brain. I’ll stop now. I can be quiet ‘til you’re ready for my yammering.”
Her quick change in mood from chipper to chastened wasn’t lost on him. Did she expect him to rail at her for being alert and chatty because she was excited about being near the falls?
The words she’d spewed at him the other night came back to haunt him.
...you can put up with the insults, the snide comments, the walking on eggshells and shrinking into corners to avoid rousing his anger...
That was exactly what she was doing right now: shrinking into the corner, curled up on the bench, back against the wall, knees tight to her chest, the bagel sitting forgotten on the table in front of her.
No wonder Leah had told him to be kind. Whatever Maia had survived in her past had left an indelible mark.
Clamping down the questions that collected on his tongue, he grabbed a mug and poured the coffee while keeping a side-eye on Maia. “I like your ‘yammering.’”
Her immobilizing self-hug loosened slightly, and she sat up higher. “You do?”
“Sure. I’ve always been a hit-the-ground-running kinda guy myself. You know, there are a couple of camping chairs in the storage area. How about we sit outside with our coffee and our bagels and enjoy the pixie dust mist while we can?”
The change in her demeanor was again instantaneous and for him, unsettling. Excitement vibrated around her, waking Lily from her slumber. “You mean it?”
“Sure. That’s why we’re here—all of us. Not just Lily here.” He gave the dog a scratch or two beneath her furry chin. “I mean, yes. We want her to experience all the best things life has to offer, but so should we.”
Maia sprang from the bench. “I’ll get the chairs while you fix your bagel.”
He smiled. “Sounds like a plan.”
Chapter 9
“Niagara Falls. Look at it. Isn’t it magnificent?”
Maia leaned against the rail and focused her camera on the turquoise water cascading in white curls over taupe boulders, the sparse greenery adding a drop of color to the otherwise brown background. Farther away, a city skyline of red brick buildings and the arch of a bridge cut the pewter sky into geometric patterns.
“And where’s Lily?” She zipped the camera to the end of the leash in her hand, where Lily sat perfectly still on the sidewalk, as if in just as much awe as the humans. “She’s right here. Say hello, Lily.” At the sound of her name, Lily swerved her neck, and Maia was thrilled to catch what looked like a smile on her canine face. “Good girl. There are lots of trails for dogs to stroll around the falls, and since it’s off-season, we haven’t run into many other people, so we pretty much have the run of the place. Right now, we’re in Niagara Falls State Park, but we’ve been told that no trip to this area with a dog is complete without a stop at the Ellicott Bark Park. It’s a dog park where Lily can run free but get this... it’s on its own island! Amazing, right? Good thing Spence got me these.”
She scanned her feet in her new hiking shoes. “Aren’t they great? And soooo comfy!” Next, she zipped the camera to Spence, who stood a few feet away at the rail. “Say hello, Spence.”
“Hello, Spence,” he replied with a nod.
Flipping the camera to focus on her own face, she smirked for the audience. “Smarty pants. But seriously, thanks to everyone who’s found these videos and has subscribed to the feed. Be sure to tell your friends about our trip, so they can follow us, too. We’ve started getting questions from viewers about Lily, our itinerary, and other stuff. I’ll answer a few of them now, and as we go along in the future, whenever we have time. First up, many of you asked what kind of dog Lily is. She’s an Australian shepherd mix, she’s twelve years old, and I raised her from a pup. When I couldn’t take care of her anymore for... personal reasons, Spence stepped in and adopted her, so she’d continue to have a home filled with affection and kindness for the rest of her days.”
She purposely avoided any mention of Teddy, her divorce, or finding out Lily had been dumped at the shelter. Her viewers, few as they might be, didn’t want to see the ugliness of life. They followed her for joy, because they loved stories about dogs, and for the lighthearted scenes she created for them to watch.
“Why are we taking this trip and what’s our ultimate destination?” she continued, but her voice cracked on the last syllable. She cleared her throat. “I’m going to let Spence take that question, since this was all his idea.”
Turning the phone his way, she caught the panic flashing on his face and silently replied with a more urgent pleading expression of her own.
After a quick glare that told her he was not thrilled with having the spotlight shining on him, he looked into the camera and spoke. “You may not be able to tell right now, but Lily has a condition that affects her spine. Over time, she’ll begin to lose function in her legs. There is no cure. This trip is a form of therapy for her. She needs lots of exercise, especially swimming, to prolong her life for as long as possible. And while we’re working to keep her strong, we’ll fulfill what we think is on a dog’s bucket list. Today and tomorrow, we’ll be here in Niagara Falls. Then it’s on to Chicago, followed by Indiana Dunes after that. The idea is to travel around the country, stopping at dog-friendly places where Lily can experience the best days of her life because...” He paused, took in a shuddering breath. “Because she’s a very good girl who’s earned the adventure of a lifetime.”
Maia had mere seconds to stop recording before she burst into tears.
“Hey.” Spence kept his tone soothing as he pulled her into his embrace, where she promptly soaked his jacket front. “Hey, come on now. It’s okay. We’ve got plenty of time with her yet. That’s the point of this whole trip, right?”
Her face burrowed deeper into the downy fabric, but she nodded. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t be so emotional...”
“Stop apologizing, Maia. You’re allowed to cry about the eventuality of losing your dog. You’re allowed to cry, laugh out loud, and talk first thing in the morning. I don’t know what that ass you once lived with expected from you, but you’re allowed to feel all the emotions now. Cry when you’re sad, laugh when you’re happy, rant when you’re angry. Chatter all day if you’re in the mood. No one gets to tell you you’re too much or too loud or you need to be quiet. Not even me. And guess what? You also get to call BS whenever anything I do or say ticks you off. I won’t throw you out on the road or ditch you somewhere. Lily’s not the only one who needs to experience all life has to offer on this trip. Understand?”
Rather than soothing her anxiety, his words only intensified her tears and added a bonus wailing from deep in her bones. How long had it been since anyone gave her permission to feel? To just... be herself? How was it possible Spence had understood her so quickly when Teddy never had?
While she pondered the questions raging in her mind, she felt Spence stiffen and then heard him mutter, “She’s fine. She just got some bad news.”
Curious, she pulled out of the safety of his arms to see several people standing nearby, watching Spence with open suspicion.
“Tell them you’re okay,” he said through a gritted-teeth-smile, “before they eat me alive.”
Wiping her eyes, she faced the gathered handful of people and offered a tremulous smile. “I’m fine. Really. It’s just what he said. I got some bad news and he’s helping me process it. Honest.”
A burly, bearded man in a black leather jacket cocked his head in her direction, eyes narrowed, and arms folded over his chest. “You sure?”
Really? Was she going to have to spill her guts to a bunch of strangers? As she glanced around at the circle of people all eyeing Spence as if ready to pounce on her behalf, she realized, yes. She would have to tell them why she was crying if she planned to save him from an angry mob.
“It’s my dog,” she said and pointed at Lily. “She’s sick. And every once in a while, the idea I don’t have a lot of time with her hits me hard.”
“She don’t look sick,” leather jacket man retorted.
“But she is,” Spence interjected. “She’s got a form of Lou Gehrig’s disease that affects some dogs. Right now, she’s in the early stages, but as time goes by, she’s going to lose the use of her back legs. And eventually, we’ll have to put her down.”
A ripple of “aww...” went through the group of strangers.
“May I?” a woman asked, holding out her hand toward Lily.
“Of course,” Maia replied.
One by one, the people stepped up to pet Lily and show her a little affection before returning to their own destinations in the park. And Lily lapped it up, thumping her tail and wearing that canine smile. Maia considered videoing her interactions with all these strangers but wasn’t sure if she’d need permission from every individual to air the footage, so she opted to keep the camera off. Besides, some things were too personal for an audience.
At last, Maia and Spence stood alone again with Lily.
“I think,” Spence said, “I’m beginning to see the appeal in your videos.”
She shrugged. “Love for a pet is universal. Doesn’t matter if the animal has fur, feathers, or skin it sheds. Everyone has a soft spot for pets.”
“So, how many people with soft spots are watching your videos?”
Her posture sagged as she sighed. “As of yesterday? Fifty.” Not nearly enough.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and squeezed, not tightly, more in a loose, comforting way. “Well, we still have plenty of time, plenty of destinations, and plenty of escapades ahead. Don’t lose heart.”
When did he become her cheerleader?
Chapter 10
“Today, we’re at Montrose Dog Beach in Chicago.”
While Maia narrated, Spence focused her camera on Lily racing along the hardpacked sand at the shore. Slender tongues of water licked her paws, yet she refused to venture too far from Maia and dry land.
Spence had never before considered whether or not a dog could smile, but the stretch of Lily’s mouth, her upright tail wagging at a quick pace, and the light in her eyes all confirmed pure canine joy. If the hitch in her left rear leg seemed a bit more pronounced today, he didn’t call attention to it. Not for the few viewers of Maia’s channel nor for Maia herself. She had a hard enough time dealing with Lily’s prognosis. He refused to add more misery to her sadness mountain.
“Go, girl,” Maia coaxed now, tossing a small orange rubber ball at the surf’s edge.
Lily dutifully scampered after the toy, and Maia cheered her on.
“Woo-hoo! Look at her go.”
Out of nowhere, a golden retriever raced forward, splashing into the water with abandon to chase after Lily’s ball.
“Barkley, no!” A young, dark-haired man in colorful swim shorts bolted toward the golden, laughing. “That’s not your ball.”
“It’s okay,” Maia told him. “Maybe your dog’s enthusiasm will bring out Lily’s competitive spirit. She’s gone unchallenged too long.”
Not true, he wanted to argue. She’d been challenged only last week at Dog Mountain when she’d raced the greyhound, Daisy Mae, downhill. But then he remembered, Maia hadn’t seen that exchange, except on video, which didn’t convey the full extent of Lily’s physical exertion that day. And while he hoped the daily exercise would benefit Lily’s mobility in the short term, he didn’t want her to tax herself to the point she negatively affected her condition.
The man in the swim shorts stopped at the water’s edge and ran a hand through his curls, his posture easing into one that reflected charming and interested. In Maia. “Hi. I’m Andrew.”
“Hi. Maia,” she introduced herself.
