Bill sat in a bleary haze in front of the computer screen the next morning, staring at the keyboard and the photo of Jellybean he was trying to make into a missing-dog poster.
He’d realized the dog/beaver had chewed through the leash shortly after Misty and Nana Bett departed. All day Friday he’d combed the town, searching every hole and crevice in Albatross while Gunther minded the store, which was painfully empty of customers. He had no idea how to contact Misty and tell her he’d lost the critter, and he wasn’t sure she’d want to know anyway. It was clear she wanted nothing more to do with the dog, the movie people, or the town of Albatross.
Or him.
Why did that thought sting? She was a casual acquaintance, a woman who liked her own quiet world, and she’d flat out said as much. Nothing personal against him. Probably just the pride of a likable man who wasn’t as likable as he thought. Thanks for the humility, God.
Seemed like he was learning plenty of other lessons in humility at the moment. Misty and his ego aside, he was worried about that nutty terrier running lose, getting into who knew what kind of trouble. He chugged some coffee, put thoughts of the caramel-eyed Misty Agnelli out of his mind, and tried to focus again.
He pushed the Print button and produced the picture he’d found after typing “Lawrence Tucker’s dog” into the search box. That had taken some time even with the computer’s intuitive spelling help.
The picture came out, the animal appearing vastly more angelic and adorable than the stinker had a right to, and Bill found an old marker in the desk drawer. He laboriously wrote across the top: Missing dog. Contact Bill. Then he added his phone number and email address.
He was twiddling with the pen when he realized it was nearly nine. A special emergency meeting of the Silver Screen Festival organizers had been called, and he’d offered the shop as a meeting place. He had a feeling it would be a short gathering. No Lawrence Tucker. No movie. No festival. Meeting adjourned.
He found Fiona looking at books in her bed and hustled her into a set of almost matching, nearly clean clothes. She tugged on his pant leg and pointed to the backyard.
“No, honey. Jellybean is still missing.”
Her brow furrowed dangerously, and her lower lip turned down in a disappointed curve.
“Maybe he went over to play with Lunk. We’ll ask Gunther when he comes in, okay?”
When she was munching toast with strawberry jelly—not the dreaded preserves she detested, as he’d finally managed to discern—he hurried to make coffee, putting out as many of the leftover chocolates from the day before as he could.
Vivian Buckley was the first to arrive, with Tinka tucked under her arm. She declined a seat and the coffee he offered.
“I heard that the shoot is off.”
“Larry told me Lawrence did a cut and run. They can’t do the movie without him, can they?”
Bill had no idea what they could or couldn’t do. “I don’t know, but maybe we should wait for official word from the director.”
“The woman left. That violin teacher.”
He nodded. “Yes. She went home.”
Roger Tillson came next, a skinny man with a bald spot on the top of his head at odds with the long ponytail down his back. He was the proprietor of Albatross Hardware and the president of the historical society. “I’m all set with the presentation for next weekend. Got volunteers dressing up in WWII uniforms, and we’re setting up a miniature display of the Battle of Guadalcanal. It’s gonna be epic.”
Vivian regarded him coldly. “I tried to tell you this morning that Lawrence up and left. They’re not going to film the movie. The whole thing is most likely off.”
Roger helped himself to coffee. “Ah, I heard that was just a tiff. Actors are all uppity and such, not like normal people. They’ll get it straightened out.”
“I hope so.” Volunteer fire chief Toby Gillespie was next into the shop, beelining immediately for a napkin, which he heaped with chocolates. His plaid shirt did not quite restrain his stomach from peeking through the gaps between the buttons. “We got the fire engine all shined up, and we’re ready to give tours of the station.”
“How does that fit in with a movie festival theme anyway?” Vivian asked.
“It doesn’t, but kids like to climb on fire engines, and these movie lovers are gonna have kids with them, aren’t they? That’s why you’re allowing kids at your Movie Time Tea Party or whatever it is that you’re hosting at the Lady Bird.”
Vivian rolled her eyes. “I might as well cancel the order with the florist and the party rental place. I’m not going to need all those round tables after all.”
Roger did not appear to have heard. “Oh yeah. People will lug their kids along too. We’ve got a genuine tank on loan from the Half Moon Bay Historical Society, and the young’uns are going to be all over that. You know, I was thinking—we could do this every year, even after the film has wrapped. It could be our shtick, you know? Every town needs a shtick. Half Moon Bay has the Pumpkin Festival, and Gilroy has the Garlic Festival. We need one too.”
“If you’d stop being so Pollyanna for one minute,” Vivian snapped, “you’d realize that there isn’t going to be a movie filmed in Albatross. It’s all over, thanks to Lawrence. The festival has ended before it ever began.”
Roger licked a smear of chocolate off his finger. “That’s just a rumor. Tucker is probably resting or something, or it’s a publicity stunt. I read about that kind of thing all the time on Facebook.”
“No, it’s not a rumor. I’ve known him since he was seventeen.” Her voice was strained and tight. “Lawrence is an emotional coward.”
An emotional coward? That was a new one to Bill.
“He’s coming back,” Toby said complacently. “You’ll see.”
“Okay, I’ll bite,” Vivian said. “How exactly do you know that, Toby? You’ve never even met him.”
Toby unfurled a napkin and wiped his face with a flourish. “Because he left his dog, didn’t he? That means he’s coming back. A man doesn’t just leave his dog.”
Vivian huffed out an enormous breath that ruffled Tinka’s fur and aimed a look at Bill. “Do you want to explain it to them?”
“Well…” Bill started.
“Well what?” Toby said, reaching for another chocolate. “I heard you’re watching Tucker’s dog, right? So he’ll be back.”
Bill felt the weight of three pairs of eyes on him. The flicker in his stomach made him realize how Misty must feel when she was suddenly the center of attention.
“Here’s what I know about the situation,” he said. “Yes, Lawrence left town, and yes, he left his dog behind.”
“But he’s coming back, in your opinion?” Roger said. “Right?”
He wanted to say yes, but rather than lie, he stayed silent.
Vivian sighed. “He dumped the dog on you, didn’t he? Or the violin tutor did.”
“No, not dumped,” he replied. “I offered to take charge of him.”
“So you’re watching Jellybean?” Vivian asked.
“Yes. And no.”
Vivian stroked Tinka and skewered him with a look. “How can it be yes and no?”
“I was watching the dog, but…”
“But what?”
But the dog ran away and Misty is gone, so now there is absolutely no reason why Lawrence would return to Albatross. He sucked in a breath.
Suddenly a scrambling of claws could be heard on the cement outside. And then, to his utter astonishment, Misty stepped into the shop, clutching Jellybean. The dog perked up when he spotted Tinka and barked out a high-pitched greeting.
Bill’s spirit leaped at the sight of Misty standing there, her strong musician’s fingers holding tight to the squirming dog.
“See?” Roger said in triumph. “Jellybean is still in town, and that means Lawrence Tucker is not far behind.”
“Well…hi,” Bill managed.
Misty wiggled her only free finger. “Am I…interrupting a meeting?”
“Just planning out the Silver Screen Festival,” Roger said. “Gonna be epic. So everything’s a go then?”
Misty looked uncertain. “What?”
“I mean, we can set things in motion for next weekend, right? ’Cuz Tucker is coming back, and the movie is going to be shot here after all.” Roger’s smile showed all his crooked front teeth.
Misty looked from Bill to Vivian to the staring men. Then she cleared her throat, and her answer came out as a squeak. “Yes.”
Roger and Toby high-fived each other and left the shop, exchanging details about tanks and howitzers. The door closed behind them, leaving Vivian still staring and Misty still preventing Jellybean’s dash to his lady love.
“So,” Vivian said, holding Tinka closer, “you’re back, Misty.”
She nodded.
“And you really believe Lawrence will return?”
She nodded again.
Vivian was thoughtful for a moment. Bill could see the gleam of disbelief tangled with a hopeful yearning. Part of Vivian wanted to be proven right about Lawrence—that he was a selfish, weak disappointment—and part of her desperately wanted to be wrong.
She caught Bill looking at her and gave her head a little toss. “I hope you’re right. There’s a lot at stake for Albatross.”
Bill noticed Misty’s throat move as she swallowed—hard.
“He’ll be back,” Misty mumbled.
Vivian gathered Tinka and left.
Bill didn’t know why his body was so tense, but he blew out a breath.
“Misty,” he said in his best Ricky Ricardo imitation, “you’ve got some ’splaining to do.”
“It’s complicated.”
He ushered her out into the backyard, where she released Jellybean to play with a delighted Fiona.
“I’m all ears.”
Misty accepted the cup of coffee Bill handed her, and though she was too timid to ask, he somehow intuited that now was precisely the right moment for chocolate. He placed his own coffee and the chocolates on a small patio table, and they settled into the slightly rusted chairs.
“Two salted caramels. That should at least get us through the part where you explain how in the world you have come into possession of Jellybean Tucker again,” Bill said.
She didn’t answer at first, overwhelmed at the glory of that gooey chocolate wonder settling across her taste buds and the sweet sensation of being near Bill once again. Both were heady pleasures. He waited patiently.
“If you can believe it, he was following my car out of town. We scooped him up, and I drove Nana home to Berkeley and stayed the night at her place, though Jellybean was extremely unkind to Nana’s canary, Peepers. It’s the only time I’ve known Peepers to go silent. Usually, he can’t be quieted for anything. I called and left a message on your shop phone. Didn’t you get it?”
He groaned. “I didn’t think to look. I’ve been out hitting the bricks, hunting for Jellybean.”
At the sound of his name, the dog raced up to Bill, placed one tiny paw on his leg, and licked a spot on his jeans. When Bill reached out to pet him, he burst away and commenced running frantic laps around the yard, much to Fiona’s amusement.
“Okay, that explains the return of Wonder Dog.” Bill directed those intense green eyes in her direction, and she felt a tingle that started in her stomach and ran through her body like a swiftly played scale.
“But why did you tell them Lawrence would come back? Did you hear from him?”
“No.”
“Did the director say the movie is going forward anyway?”
“No. He’s pulling the plug Friday if Lawrence doesn’t return.”
Bill’s eyebrows rose halfway to his thick hair. “I give. Why did you come back, Misty?”
Why? Why? The very question, the heart of the matter. Why had Misty Agnelli returned to Albatross when she’d nearly made her escape, hidden safely under the bed again while the world went crazy around her? “These are good chocolates,” she said, stuffing the second one into her mouth.
“Candy will not save you, young lady.” He leaned forward. “Why, Misty?”
The caramel bought her a few precious moments. She swallowed and forced her mouth to say the words. “I’m going to find Lawrence Tucker and bring him back here before Wilson stops the production.” There. It was delivered, sitting like an unexploded bomb between them.
Bill froze. “You think you can do that? Get him to return?”
“Yes,” she blurted before she could rethink it.
“How? Did you call him?”
“No.”
He scrubbed a hand across his unshaven jaw. “Did he contact you?”
“No.”
“Then how are you going to find him? He could be anywhere.”
“I’m going to…” She stopped. “I don’t know.”
Bill shook his head. “But why would you do that, Misty?”
Why indeed? “I can’t explain it. It won’t make sense.” It didn’t make one bit of sense, even in her own mind. Borderline recluse, walking social disaster, coward to the nth degree.
“Doesn’t have to make sense. Tell me.”
She wanted time to compose the right words, to neatly score them to the proper rhythm, in an appropriate time signature. Bill’s piercing gaze would not allow her the luxury.
She sucked in a deep breath, wishing she had more chocolate. “I felt like I was meant to come back here and convince Lawrence to return.”
He stared.
“For the town,” she added. And for you. At least she had the sense not to tell that bit.
Now he was openly gaping. “You were meant to find Tucker?”
His open mouth gave way to the quirk of a smile.
“And for some crazy reason, I think God figures that’s supposed to be me,” she finished.
“Let it shine, Misty,” she could hear Lawrence saying. Okay. She’d just set the match to the wick, and there was no turning back. Stomach knotted, she waited for his response.
“So a woman who is scared to leave home has returned to a town she doesn’t like to find a man she doesn’t understand without any idea how to go about it, on a one-week deadline?”
The knot grew tighter. He would laugh. Think her crazy. Wish her well and step away from the strange, awkward, ridiculous woman who was Misty Agnelli.
He did laugh, and her mortification was complete. The rich, sonorous bass filled the tiny backyard. She stood, fiddling with her empty coffee cup, cheeks hot with embarrassment, hands cold with shame. What had she expected?
“Well, anyway,” she said, “I’ll take Jellybean and get out of your hair.”
He wiped a hand across his eyes. “I just can’t believe this.”
“Thanks for keeping him, or at least trying to.” She was two steps away when he caught her by the arm.
“Wait a minute.”
She would not turn and see the mirth on his face, the humor she’d provided at the cost of her own dignity. “I’m in a hurry,” she muttered. “Mr. Wilson said I could stay in the trailer, so I’ll take Jellybean there.”
But he did not let go. He gently turned her around until she was looking into the handsome face, at the strong chin and slightly untidy hair.
“You don’t think God meant for you to do this alone, do you?”
She blinked hard to dismiss the tears that had gathered in her eyes when she’d heard him laughing. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, Misty Agnelli,” he said, beaming a smile at her that left her positively breathless, “you’ve got yourself a partner in this quest.”
Was she imagining this? Dreaming it up like some romantic movie? Had Bill Woodson really believed her wacky notion enough to help? Enough to stay close? To her? A partner.
Jellybean barked and chased his tail as Fiona looked on with glee.
“Correct that. Looks like you’ve got yourself three partners. Can you deal with that?”
She nodded, not trusting her voice. Suddenly, she did not feel quite so awkward and unsure of herself as she had a moment before.
Partners. Yes, she could deal with that.