Chapter Fifteen

 

Jameson emerged from the woods, glistening with sweat despite the frigid wind.

She felt as though she was coming home for the first time, carrying her bride over the threshold. She giggled and put Devon on her feet.

“What’s so funny?” Devon asked.

“I feel like a child again.”

“Me too.”

She turned around and there it was, as grand as an oak and just as tall, Elks Pass Sundries, the tepee shaped store.

“It's just as I remembered. Do you and your mother still live here?”

“Well, my mom died almost ten years ago, but I still live here.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Me, too,” Jameson admitted.

“You stay out here all alone?”

“Yes.”

“Scary,” Devon frowned, looking back at the dark woods.

Jameson shrugged. “I guess I’m used to it. Come on, let’s get inside, I hear someone calling for you.” She scooped her up and headed to the kitchen door.

“You got my car,” Devon exclaimed as they passed the greenhouse. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Jameson grinned.

“Hey, there’s the greenhouse where you kept the wolf puppies,” Devon squealed, channeling her inner child. “God, this is some weird coincidence, huh? I am almost certain my mom got Moon here. Am I right?”

“About Moon yes, about coincidence, no.”

“Come on, it’s all a huge coincidence,” Devon argued as they reached the back door.

“I don’t believe in coincidence. I believe in destiny.”

She put Devon on her feet again and held her around the waist to keep her steady. Their eyes locked and Devon felt as though time slipped and she was a child again.

She reached out, touched Jameson’s hair, and whispered, “I have never forgotten you.”

“I have often wondered about Shadow Wolf.”

Devon smiled wanly. “That was the high point of my vacation that year. Of my life, actually. Do you remember we almost kissed?”

“Of course, I remember. Sometimes good memories are hard to come by.”

“Do you always have something wistful to say?”

“Wisdomisms, that’s what my mom and I used to call them.”

Devon fluffed her hair and smoothed her rumpled shirt.

“I better get Moon before she tears down your door. I can’t wait to check into a nice hotel, take a hot shower, order room service, and raid the mini bar.”

“You can stay the night here if you want,” Jameson offered. “It’s not five star, but at least you won’t have to drive with your swollen ankle. I have an amazing ointment for your head and a wonderful herbal tea that will ease away your pain.”

“That’s very tempting.”

“I also happen to have some wine in the fridge. It’ll be fun. We can have a slumber party and catch up on the last fifteen or so years.”

“Oh, my god,” Devon breathed as she touched the heart-shaped locket around Jameson’s’ neck.

“I have never taken it off.”

“I just put mine back on,” Devon smiled. “I wore it for years but my aunt made me take it off for my sweet sixteen party.”

Jameson helped Devon into the kitchen. “It kept us connected.”

Jameson saw the owl on the greenhouse roof, watching. She scowled at it as she closed the door behind them. As Devon and Moon shared a playful reunion she watched the owl through the kitchen window. She sighed with relief when it finally took off and vanished into the night.

* * * *

Jameson led them upstairs to her loft. Devon curled up on the couch with Moon beside her.

“This is cozy. I love the recessed lighting on the ceiling.”

Jameson lit a few candles. “My dad built this place. He loved unusual architecture. Well I guess that’s obvious.” She struggled with opening a bottle of wine. “I’ve never been good at this.”

“May I?” Devon asked, taking the bottle and wine opener from her.

“I saw my mother open one with a butter knife once,” Jameson smiled.

“I’ve opened one against a wall with nothing but a towel,” Devon said. “I guess necessity is the mother of invention, right?” She removed the cork without a crumble and handed the bottle back. “That was a good wisdomism, huh?”

“Yes very good. I wish I’d written all of my mother’s sayings down.” She perched on the coffee table with an ice pack on Devon’s ankle. “She used to say things like, ‘fly high and you can see more clearly’.”

Devon took a generous sip of her wine. “I seem to have heard that today,” Devon muttered. “You don’t have to hold that all night. It’s numb. Come sit next to me. There is a big black bird out there stealing your mother’s lines.”

“She is highly quotable. How does your head feel?”

“Whatever was in that tea of yours really worked and the heat from your hands brought the swelling in my ankle down immediately. What did you do on me, energy healing? Reiki?”

“Yes, something like that.”

“Jameson you are magical and I am awestruck by your talents. Thank you again for rescuing us.”

“My pleasure.” Jameson smiled. “I’m glad you’re going to stay. Look at Moon. She is out for the night. You both need to rest. I want to be sure you are both in good condition before you get on the road again, and no more drinking and driving.”

She topped off Devon’s glass.

“That’s one way to get me to stay.”

“It’s settled then.”

“Is that your bedroom?” Devon referred to the room behind the divider.

“That was my mother’s room. It is my art studio now. This has always been my bedroom. I set it up as a living room because it is more functional this way. The couch pulls out into a bed. You can sleep here. It’s really comfy.”

“Where are you going to sleep?”

“I have a cot I’ll set up for myself in the other room.”

Devon narrowed her eyes. “You can’t be this nice.”

Jameson shrugged off the compliment and sipped her wine.

“So Berry, the puppy I met when we were fourteen, was Moon’s mother? Isn’t that some strange shit? I know you don’t believe in coincidence, but, come on, it’s weird.”

“It’s not strange. Our lives go in a circle, joining end-to-end and continuing. Sometimes you are able to see the joins but sometimes where the circle meets is vague.”

“Is that the kind of thing your mother used to say?” Devon asked.

Jameson laughed. “Yes, actually it is.”

“So since she passed you’ve live out here all alone?”

“Most of the time.”

“And sometimes she stays with you?” Devon asked, reaching over Moon and picking up a framed photograph from the end table.

Jameson said. “Our visits are rare. People grow apart and realize they were never together, at all.” She took the photo from Devon and put it face down.

“That’s for damn sure,” Devon agreed. “I know that firsthand. It breaks my heart to think of you out here all by yourself.”

“Why?” Jameson asked.

“I don’t know why,” Devon said. “My own loneliness, maybe projection.”

“I’m used to being alone.”

“Me, too,” Devon admitted, avoiding Jameson’s eyes.

“This wine is good.” She slid down onto the couch. “It’s nice out here. Peaceful. Listen to that, wow. Listen to the wilderness out there.”

“Yes, it lulls me to sleep every night.”

“I love the way the moon winks in through that high window over there. I love it here,” Devon whispered.

“You do?”

“I love it.”

Jameson stroked Devon’s hair and watched her face in the candle’s glow. They talked about mundane things.

Devon finished her wine and rested her head on Jameson’s lap, her legs draped over Moon’s dozing body. She gazed up at Jameson and stroked her braids.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” she breathed. “And I can’t believe you are wearing your hair in braids.”

Jameson laughed, only when I exercise. She touched Devon’s face, tracing the outline of her lips with her forefinger.

“What does this mean?” Devon asked. She felt a warm glow wash over her. She stared into Jameson’s glistening eyes. “What does this mean?” she repeated, taking Jameson’s hand and kissing it.

“When two souls are meant to unite physical form is irrelevant. It is society that imposes limitations.” Jameson breathed. “The moon and the trees and the animals don’t care. They observe with delight the blessed union of souls.”

“That was beautiful,” Devon muttered as she met Jameson’s kiss.

When they pulled away Devon stared up at Jameson’s wild eyes and whispered, “Tell me what you thought about the day we met and tell me about your mother.”

Otherwise known as the greatest day of my life?” Jameson said. “I can show you, close your eyes and let me take you on a relaxation meditation. Imagine the day we met, the climate, the time of day. See me, the greenhouse and the wolf puppies. Relax and breathe.”

Devon obeyed. She took three deeps breaths and let Jameson guide her.

“Smell the flowers blooming in the greenhouse, see the puppies, see me.”

* * * *

When the girl named Shadow Wolf was gone Jameson went back to check on the puppies. She put the escapee back inside and closed the door. Doc Jo Jo would scold her if the puppies escaped and tunneled their way into ‘no man’s land’. Behind the greenhouse, in a perfect and tidy fifty-foot-by-fifty-foot square, was her mother’s herb garden. A place no one but Doc Jo Jo entered. It was a place where her mother experimented with her hybrid plants. She had a recent and long awaited victory when one of her experiments began to cultivate. To ensure their safety, Doc erected a six-foot privacy fence composed of wood elaborately woven through with chicken wire to enclose the area. On the gate was a heavy padlock and Doc Jo Jo wore the only key on the chain around her neck. The garden was Doc Jo Jo’s pride. She would spend hours weeding and fussing over her plants while Jameson tended the store. She would dry the plants and use their roots and leaves for ointments, creams and various teas. She sold them in the shop along with her own blend of tobacco.

Her customers knew her well, and trusted her. Her regulars found her to be eccentric in light of the tepee shaped store but inspired by her deep connection to Mother Earth. She often did lecture circuits on her hybrid plant research and the Native American mythology. The local tribes knew her for what she was, a medicine woman. They still came to her for healing of the spirit as well as the body. To Jameson she was Doc Jo Jo, Mom, or Crazy Plant Woman. She was a teacher and a joyous companion. She was tireless in her patience and infinite in her knowledge. Nevertheless, she was a perfectionist who was obsessed with her life’s work, a hybrid herb that was still in its elementary stages of development. The plant liked direct sunlight and lots of water. Regrettably, many of the animals that inhabited the nearby woods found the plant irresistible. Doc Jo Jo, consumed with keeping the critters out and her new plant safe, summoned him for protection.

Jameson knew he was still out there, watching her. She sensed him in the woods beyond the garden, camouflaged in the tangle of trees. She sought his yellow eyes. She had given him a simple signal that said all was fine and not to worry about his young. She gave him another signal now and he came to her.

Her gaze did not falter as Two Stars approached her. He loped along the edge of the garden and stopped at the green house door. She knew she must never show him fear. He was a wolf after all, not a loving pet like Ducks, but a wild and untamable creature. He liked Jameson and often nuzzled her and allowed her to stroke his matted head. He smelled to high heaven, he had some burrs on his legs, and it appeared one was bleeding. Jameson took a piece of the meat her mother kept in the greenhouse refrigerator and offered it to him hoping he would come in, hoping he would stay. She wanted to get some ointment on the cut and to snip off the biting burrs.

Two Stars fixated on the meat and moved toward her, his head bent low, but by no means acquiescent. He limped, and as he got closer, Jameson saw that his hind leg was torn. A flap of skin hung like a pink tongue and was matted with dirt. He stopped and greeted his young as they pounced at him and nipped at his feet. He moved past them for the meat. Jameson placed it on the ground before her. Two Stars snatched it and limped from the greenhouse back into the woods.

“You’re going to get him killed, child,” her mother said, appearing in the doorway.

“Why do you say that?” Jameson asked.

“If you feed him from your hand you make him see people as bearing food. He could get shot if he approaches someone.”

“He avoids people, you know that,” Jameson told her.

“The other wolves won’t tolerate him if they know he doesn’t hunt for his own food. They will think of him as weak. Perhaps he is a lone wolf and has no pack to protect him.”

“The other wolves won’t let him in their pack? That’s not nice,” Jameson, pouted. “Why?”

“Perhaps he won’t succumb to the hierarchy or is too impatient to wait his turn to become the alpha wolf.”

“I think it’s because he loves Ducks and the other wolves don’t like that.”

“You believe prejudice and judgment exists in the animal world as in our own?”

“Yes, I do,” Jameson, declared. “And I think Two Stars is the king of all the wolf packs, that’s why he’s not in just one.”

Doc Jo Jo nodded, moved by her daughter’s insight. “Do you see what you just learned from Two Stars? Perhaps that was his purpose, to teach you about hierarchy and humility. Meanwhile, toss the meat into the woods next time as I do. Trust me it’s safer for all concerned. Besides, you fed him our dinner,” her mother laughed. “The wolf is fed but we’ll go to bed hungry tonight.”

“That hunk of meat wasn’t our dinner. You got it for Ducks and Two Stars,” Jameson giggled. “You said we’re having spaghetti tonight at the Italian restaurant in town.”

“Did I say that? I can’t remember,” her mother teased.

“You said it, you know you did,” Jameson said hugging her.

“How are the pups doing?” Doc Jo Jo asked, stroking her daughter’s untidy braids.

“These pups really favor Ducks, especially Berry. They don't look as wolfy as the last litter. Thank you for letting me keep her.”

“I’m glad she makes you happy. She will be a longtime companion, train her well and with a stern hand.”

“I will,” Jameson promised.

“Did you make a new friend today?”

“Yes, Devon. She doesn't realize she has two mothers.”

Her mother smiled. “Talk about a stern hand, huh?”

“The dark haired mom is aggressive and wants to control Devon because she is afraid of what she might become,” Jameson nodded. “The other mom is natural and easy. She looks familiar to me. I think she has been to the store before. Well, they sometimes argue over the girl on how to raise her. It confuses Devon and makes her mad.”

“Devon seemed taken by Ducks,” Doc Jo Jo noted.

“She loved the puppies. She has no fear of wolves.”

“I’ll bet she’d be afraid of Two Stars.”

“Nope, she met him and wasn't afraid. He liked her, too.”

Jameson knew he watched them from the woods. “I wish Two Stars could come live with us. I worry about where he sleeps and if he’s scared in the dark.”

“He sleeps with his ear against the breast of his mother earth,” Doc Jo Jo philosophized. “The dark holds no fear for him as it might hold for you.”

“But his leg is torn and bleeding.”

“I’ll dress it tomorrow. It is getting late. Let’s get inside and get washed up for dinner.”

“I gave Devon my arrowhead.”

“You did? I thought you said you’d never give up your first carving.”

“I know, but I was compelled to give it to her.”

“Compelled?” Doc Jo Jo grinned.

“Yes, she needs it for courage and balance and for drunkenness.”

“Drunkenness? She couldn’t have been more than thirteen or fourteen.”

“Later on,” Jameson replied. “When she’s grown.”

“I see.”

“Plus it’s her mineral totem.”

“Very good, my dear. All of my nagging has paid off since you are studying some of your father’s books.”

“He knew a lot about Native spirituality for a white man.”

“He studied hard and learned well. He was accepted into the Buffalo Tribe right before he died, the first white man they ever welcomed.”

“I know. I wish I remembered him more.”

“He lives in here,” her mother touched her heart, “and in here,” she touched Jameson’s heart.

“I know,” Jameson smiled. “I have one of his books under my pillow and it has his picture on the back. I kiss it every night before I go to sleep.”

“I know, so do I.” Doc Jo Jo hugged her daughter. Jameson noticed that her mother blinked back sudden tears. “Run along and get cleaned up, we don’t want to be out all night. I need my beauty sleep.”

“You’re already beautiful,” Jameson told her, reaching out and wiping a tear from her cheek.

Joann Jordan took her daughter’s hands. “You are the most precious thing your father gave me, so wise beyond your years.”

“You’ll never love another man,” Jameson knew.

“No I won’t,” her mother agreed. “There will never be another man in my life.”

“There will never be another man in mine, either,” Jameson said as she bounded up the stairs.

Doc Jo Jo smiled to herself as she closed her eyes. Jameson felt her mother peer into her future. She heard her sigh.

She called down to her mother, “Don’t be sad, I will be okay alone, Mom.”

* * * *

Jameson refilled their glasses of wine. “As you can see, you made an impression on me.”

“I was right about you,” Devon smirked. “You are a mind reader as was your mother.”

“We are seers, or intuitives. It is ironic that I can’t see what is close to me.”

“What couldn’t you see?”

“That my mother had suffered with cancer for years.”

* * * *

“I can’t believe nothing can be done,” Jameson stated. “And I can’t believe you didn’t tell me before now. I wasted a year away at school that I could have been here taking care of you.”

“I don’t need taking care of,” her mother shrugged. “And don’t tell me you’re quitting college. No, Ma’am, I won’t hear that.”

“I’m not going back. I’m not leaving you.” Jameson sobbed. “Why you? You’re so good.”

“Death is a fickle fate. You can’t wager on it, you will always lose. You know no one gets out alive. Life comes with a death sentence.”

“Mom, stop it. No Doc Jo Jo wisdomism is going to work this time, so forget it. Don’t even try to make this okay.”

Joann Jordan scooped up her daughter. “I wanted to tell you, but I knew the truth would be revealed when the time was right,” her mother soothed. “I knew you’d see.”

Jameson had seen when they closed up shop for the night. She watched Doc Jo Jo work on the nightly receipts. Jameson had an uneasy feeling. The shadows from her mother’s desk lamp were long and menacing. The air in the store was heavy and too sweet from incense and oils. She left the store by way of the kitchen, grabbed her cigarettes, and stepped out into the night.

That was when she noticed the owl perched on the greenhouse roof. It stared at her with its bored, hooded eyes. The owl with its power to extract secrets, the bringer of prophesies. Jameson had seen the owl a few times over the course of the years as it was her mother’s totem, but it had been years since it was so close to the house and longer since it returned Jameson’s curious gaze.

It glowered at Jameson with its cynical eyes, watching her. Even inside, Jameson tried to shake the owl’s deliberate, judicious look. She peered out the kitchen window and saw the owl still watching.

Jameson decided she would ask her mother what it meant. She found her in the store, still seated at her small and cluttered desk. Approaching her Jameson observed the way her mother’s face looked by the light of the desk lamp. Newly infused with owl energy Jameson was able to see. The mirth left her mother’s eyes and worry turned her happy mouth downward. The ‘intellect’ furrow between her brows deepened and the light in her eyes was not as bright.

The cancer was terminal as was Jameson’s sorrow.

“I can’t lose you,” Jameson sobbed.

“Dry your eyes, my dear. Let us celebrate life today. You get us a bottle of wine. I have a nice Chardonnay in the fridge.”

“What’s going to happen?” Jameson asked.

“You’ll finish college, of course, and I’ve put some money aside for you.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Jameson blurted.

“I’m not doing any radiation treatments, if that’s what you mean.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t believe in it, you know that.”

“What do you believe in,” Jameson screamed, “this bullshit?” She grabbed a package of dried herbs and tore it open, littering the floor. “How about this, maybe this can cure you.” Jameson crashed a bottle of Doc Jo Jo’s hand bottled ointment on the ground.

Berry began to bark, agitated by Jameson’s rare temper.

Jameson dropped to her knees and hugged her dog. “Sorry, Berry, sshh, it’s all right. Nobody is upset. Where are your beautiful babies?”

Berry yowled and the two remaining pups crawled out from under the shelf where Doc Jo Jo displayed her homemade beef jerky.

“That reminds me, I have some people coming tonight for one of the pups,” Doc Jo Jo said. She tore off three pieces of jerky and fed one to each of the puppies and the big piece to Berry.

Two puppies remained the first-born, and the runt.

Jameson cuddled the puppies. “I wonder who is leaving tonight. I’ll bet it’s you,” she cooed to Long Snows Moon. “If you’re not sold tonight I’m keeping you for myself.”

Her mother gave her a chiding look. “You can’t even keep Berry at the dorm, let alone another.”

“I’m not going back,” Jameson stated. “I’m staying here with you.”

Joann Jordan looked at her child, now a woman, and laughed for the first time in a long time.

“You’re not going back to school? What do you plan to do with your life?”

“I’ll run the store,” Jameson stated.

“All by yourself?”

“How hard can it be? I have been working here all my life. Half of the inventory comes from these.” She waved her hands in front of Doc Jo Jo’s face.

“What about your education?”

“As long as I have my five senses I will never stop learning.”

“Six,” Joann Jordan corrected her.

“Right,” Jameson nodded.

“You are telling me when I cross over you are going to stay here in a place that has caused you endless humiliation?” Doc Jo Jo asked.

“When I was a kid in school I was embarrassed that I lived in a tepee shaped store, but now I don’t give a damn. This place is the final detail left of my father, a place he created with his own hands.”

Doc Jo Jo laughed, reminiscing, “We lived in an actual tent while we built this place, right out there where the greenhouse is. You know, you were conceived in that very tent.”

“In that tent, yes, I know that,” Jameson rolled her eyes. “Spare me the details and don’t try to detour. I have to run the store. Who better than me to carry on your work? Who else is going to heal the weak and infirm in four states simultaneously?”

Doc Jo Jo studied her daughter for a dramatic moment, searched her eyes for truth and her manner for sincerity.

“I mean it, Mom I’m not going back to school. I’m not leaving you,” Jameson declared.

“Very well, you do have a lot to learn and not a lot of time to do it,” Doc Jo Jo conceded, going to the kitchen and getting the wine from the fridge. “Would you grab the wineglasses, please? And a butter knife.”

“How much time do you have?” Jameson asked, removing the glasses with a shaking hand.

Doc Jo Jo shrugged and sat at the table. “Two weeks, two months, two years, be quiet now, it is lesson time.”

Jameson was obedient. She slid into the chair at the wide wooden table in the center of the kitchen. She waited for her mother’s instructions as she had as a child. She observed her mother remove the cork using the butter knife.

“That’s cool,” Jameson said. “But, we do have a corkscrew, you know.”

“I know,” Doc Jo Jo explained. “The medicine I practice is much like the manner in which I opened this wine. It may be rustic and elementary, but it works. That is the premise of the things you call bullshit, my herbs, my teas.”

“I didn’t mean that, I was upset.”

Doc Jo Jo held up her hand. “I know why you said it, but I know that on some level you also believe it. In time, your skepticism will fade.” Doc Jo Jo poured them each a glass of wine. She sipped hers.

“We are from the earth and to the earth we return,” she toasted, raising her glass. “It’s all the emotional stuff that binds us to our mortal bodies.”

“I understand your beliefs, and I share them for the most part, but why won’t you at least try to heal yourself? It is your life’s work. Use your curing crosses, or whatever you have in your medicine woman arsenal. I don’t understand why you’re giving up.”

Jameson slumped in the chair across the table from her mother and gulped her wine.

“I’m not giving up, that’s the part you don’t understand.”

“Explain it, please.”

“My spirit is alive and well, but my body is tired. My case is extreme, and to be honest, I no longer have the mental fortitude to cure myself even if I did have the time, which I do not. I have come to terms with the method of my death and in this knowledge is solace. I am tired. I have done good work here. I made a wonderful daughter and I’ve helped many people.” She shrugged. “You can’t live forever.”

The tears rolled down Jameson’s face. “I can’t take this,” she sobbed.

“You are dreading the loss right now instead of relishing the moment.”

“Relishing what? The moment my mother tells me she is dying?”

“The moment we are in right now. It holds the lucid, prevailing knowledge of us again meeting. I promise you that. Remember this table, this wine, and these tears. Remember me when we meet again.” Doc Jo Jo’s eyes filled with tears.

Jameson got up and hugged her mother. “Don’t fear, my blessed mother, I’ll see you through to the other side.”

Doc Jo Jo returned the hug. “Now that’s what I needed to hear, my child.”

The bell above the door jingled and they released one another.

“I love you, Mom,” Jameson said.

“Me too.”

“I’m taking Berry for a walk. I will be back when they’re gone. I hope they don’t take Long Snows Moon, I want her.”

“They have the choice. They drove a long way for their new pet. Let them at least have an option.”

“I guess,” Jameson said. She whistled and Berry came tramping into the kitchen. Jameson snatched her leash from its hook by the back door.

“Jameson,” her mother said. “I have been sick for a long time. I managed to keep my cancer in remission for ten years, but my hall pass has expired. I want you to know that Joann Jordan doesn’t go down without a fight.”

“What are you saying?” Jameson asked in awe. “You found a cure for cancer?”

Doc Jo Jo’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “A provisional reprieve,” she smiled and left the kitchen, greeting her customers.

They burst into Elk’s Pass Sundries like a couple of schoolgirls ditching class. Claire and Analise entered the store delirious from their weekend skiing and intoxicated by one another. Jameson recognized them immediately.

“This place,” Analise exclaimed, “it’s as charming as I remembered.”

“Welcome to Elk's Pass Sundries,” Doc said as she and Jameson emerged from the kitchen.

“Hello there, we are here to buy the puppy for my daughter.”

“I've been expecting you,” Doc said. “Let me round up the pups.”

Jameson stomped upstairs as she glowered at the women.

“Look, Claire, this painting is magnificent. I have to get it for Devon.” She rushed to huge canvas on an easel by the west windows. “It’s marvelous.”

“Isn’t it?” Doc Jo Jo agreed. “My daughter painted it. She finished it yesterday.”

“Is it for sale?”

“Everything’s for sale at Elk’s Pass Sundries.”

“Is it a wolf?” Claire asked, joining Analise at the easel.

“It is Shawnodese,” Doc Jo Jo said.

“It’s good.” Claire admired it over the rim of her eyeglasses. “Does she study?”

Doc Jo Jo sighed. “We’ll see.”

“Oh, Claire, there they are,” Analise cried as she spied the puppies peeking from behind the counter. “Look at the white one. Is it a girl?”

“They’re both female,” Doc Jo Jo told her.

“We have to get Devon this one, don’t you think, Claire?” Analise asked, scooping up Long Snows Moon. “Or this little black one with the blue eyes. It would match Devon's eyes and hair.”

“Accessorizing with an animal? Delightful!” Claire laughed.

Jameson watched them from the loft. “They aren't accessories.”

Claire wrinkled her nose at Jameson. “You're right. Get her the white one, Analise. She went off to the nether of the store and called out, “Bubble gum soda!”

“I want one!” Analise shouted. “We’ll take this puppy, and the painting please.”

“I’ll get the papers together.” Doc Jo Jo rummaged through her desk drawer.

“How much is the painting?” Analise asked.

“What is it worth to you?” Doc Jo Jo asked.

“Oh, I couldn’t say,” Analise faltered. “It is so lovely and unusual. Besides, how could I put a price on your daughter’s work?”

Jameson studied Analise as she descended the stairs to defend her art, remembering their first meeting. Jameson knew their lives would connect once more as they passed each other on the wheel.

The paint was barely dry and wasn't even framed yet. She'd painted it for Devon and for her it would be free. Not for them.

“The painting is fifteen hundred dollars,” she announced.

“What?” Claire asked. “That’s rather steep for this rudimentary level.”

“Claire!” Analise said.

“Well, it’s true. Look at the color palette. It’s absurd. Moreover, what is it? A wolf … a dog? What?”

“Art is subjective and opinions are ego driven vomit,” Jameson said, as she stood beside her painting.

Analise laughed and poked Claire. “Did you hear that? Oh, that was fabulous. I will have to remember that.”

A wise grin tugged at Doc Jo Jo’s mouth. Jameson knew her mother was close to laughing. They both knew that Claire walked without purpose through her life. She looked but did not see.

“The painting is fifteen hundred dollars. Take it or leave it,” Jameson retorted. “I want a few minutes alone with the puppy before you take her.” She snatched Long Snows Moon from Analise.

Jameson knew Doc Jo Jo felt no reason to apologize for her daughter’s rare display of rudeness. She had just received some terrible news.

Doc Jo Jo shrugged at Analise. “It’s her painting.”

“That’s fine, it’s worth it.”

“And the dog? How much is the little beast?” Claire asked.

“Two thousand,” Jameson said.

“I guess we’re paying for her art lessons,” Claire retorted as she placed the soda bottles by the register.

“Claire, please,” Analise scowled.

“I’ll throw in the drinks for free,” Doc Jo Jo said with a wink. “Here you go. The pedigree papers, a pamphlet I have personally created on the care and maintenance of your new puppy, as well as some information on the wolf hybrid. They are a rare and wonderful breed, if not an exercise in patience. They require a firm hand, so if you find, for any reason, you are unable to manage or care for this animal I would appreciate if you would bring her back.”

“For a full refund?” Claire asked.

“Sure,” Doc Jo Jo chuckled.

Jameson whispered to the puppy, “Keep her safe and bring her home.”

Long Snows Moon licked her nose.

“I hope your daughter loves this animal. She is special.” She handed her back to Analise.

“She never stopped talking about you,” Analise whispered as she cuddled the pup. “You have grown into a beauty.” She cast a poignant glance at the locket Jameson wore.

“Will you tell her I said hello and I painted it for her?”

Analise shook her head. “No, I'm sorry, I can't tell her, she is on a different path. I think hearing that will make her falter. She must stay on course. She must procreate our family. This puppy is part of her wedding dowry.” She held Moon close as she backed away, her face a mask of regret. “I'm sorry.”

Dowry or bribe? Her lie felt like a slap. Jameson rushed upstairs to the safety of her loft to hide her pain and rage.

Her eyes went black as she watched Claire cart the enormous canvas. Doc Jo Jo scurried to open the door.

Claire howled, not unlike a wolf. Standing on the deck before them was a wolf. Claire backed away and stumbled over her own feet. Her ass hit the ground with a thud and the painting fell on top of her.

“Make it go away!” Claire screamed.

Doc Jo Jo moved the painting and helped her up. “It's okay,” Doc Jo Jo kicked the door closed and cast Jameson a chiding look.

Jameson shrugged innocently.

“Come with me, you skinned your elbow. Let me apply some cream.”

Doc Jo Jo led Claire through the store into the kitchen. Jameson heard Claire wail when Doc applied the balm. Served her right. She needed to learn respect.

“Analise! Where are you?” Claire hollered.

Analise was on the porch, kneeling next to Two Stars, running her fingers through his fur as if it were made of mink.

When the women were gone, Jameson slipped downstairs and clipped the leash on Berry’s collar. The gravity of her mother’s news left her navigating the narrow bridge between loss and renewal, between life and death. The news about Devon's marriage opened a hole in her heart the size of Nevada. She led Berry out of the kitchen and rushed for the cover of dark woods beyond the store, feeling light-headed and disconnected. The ground beneath her feet felt tilted. In her haste, Jameson lost her balance and almost fell twice.

She felt its eyes on her. Jameson glanced back at the owl on its new perch atop the greenhouse roof. The owl blinked. It was not his fault. He was the messenger.

I am sorry, my sister, but your mother is needed elsewhere.