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  “No. Look at it this way, this is where they separate the men from the boys. If I can do it, so can you. View all of this as the ultimate challenge.” Ross clapped his father on the back to make his point.

  In the kitchen, Ross covered his mouth so his laughter wouldn’t carry into the living room. He had no doubts at all about his father being up to the tasks he’d outlined for him. No man likes to fail, no matter how simple the task.

  At midnight Ross announced it was time to go to bed. The dogs stirred, their ears at attention. He pointed dramatically to the mound of paper by the front door. In single file the dogs trotted over to the paper. Jasper voiced amazement.

  “Where do they sleep?” he asked.

  “That’s a good question. They kind of line up, if you know what I mean. It’s like they’re waiting for orders. They probably sleep with Jory, so maybe we should let them use her room. They must miss her.”

  “They seem to adapt to strangers rather well,” Jasper remarked.

  Ross turned the tree lights off, banked the fire, and closed Woo’s briefcase. “I’m leaving the heat on,” he muttered as he headed for the stairs. “It’s drafty as hell up here. If you want to stuff the windows, feel free. Jesus, I’m tired.”

  “Me too,” Jasper said, rubbing his eyes. “What would you say to a woman who doesn’t want her mother-in-law to come and live with her and her husband?”

  “I suppose I’d tell her to ask herself why she doesn’t want her there, and whatever that answer turns out to be is what she has to work on. Woo’s mother told me two women in one kitchen doesn’t work. The mother-in-law will want to cook for her son, the daughter-in-law will be jealous. Maybe you should pick another letter.”

  “They’re all like that,” Jasper grumbled.

  His jaw dropped when the four dogs followed him to the room he’d chosen. He could hear his son laughing as he closed the door. “I don’t need a diagram to tell me what comes next,” Jasper said to himself. He undressed, the silk pajamas so cold he thought he would faint from the shock. He scooped up the dogs, dumped them at the foot of the bed, and pulled down the covers. One by one the dogs inched upward, until all four were nestled on the pillow next to him. He did laugh then, heartily, loving the sound. He pulled the covers higher before he rolled over. He was still laughing when he said, “Justine, you should see me now. You’d piss those fine lace panties you wear.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The days passed, routines were established and adhered to. New windows were installed and life moved forward. Christmas and New Year’s came and went. During the second week in January a carpenter repaired the back porch, fixed the roof, installed ramps at the back of the house and at the carriage house, and put a furnace in the carriage house. During the third week a motorized, custom-built wheelchair was delivered and placed in the garage. At the same time, Ross summed up Woo’s case and closed the file.

  A month had transpired since the accident when Jasper Landers drove Jory home from the hospital. She walked with the aid of a pronged cane, her face full of pain with each step she took. Jasper wanted to carry her, but she wouldn’t hear of it. “I have to learn to take care of myself,” she said, tears rolling down her cheeks.

  “You can’t stay here alone, my dear,” Jasper said quietly. “Please come back to town with Ross and me. You have to go three times a week for therapy, and you have no car. You need more time, Jory.”

  “I know,” she said weakly, leaning her head back against the cushion of the sofa, the dogs cuddled in her lap. “I’m lucky to be alive, I have to keep remembering that. I’ll manage. I can have the physical therapist come here. I need to be home, among my own things.”

  “We can stay on and help. We’ve got a routine that works,” Jasper said proudly. “It took some doing, but we pulled together. Woo is coming along. He should be discharged soon.”

  “His injuries were more extensive than mine,” Jory said. “I didn’t know he’d been injured until the day after Christmas. Ross should have told me.”

  “What could you have done, my dear?”

  “That’s not the point.” Jory frowned, annoyed with herself for seeming less than gracious. “I want to thank you for doing the column,” she said.

  “I’m only too happy to relinquish it to you,” Jasper replied. “Will you be able to keep it up?”

  “I think so. If not, can I call on you?”

  “Absolutely. It’s amazing no one discovered our secret. I did just what you said, I mailed ahead and used those little slips. Ross or I typed everything and scrawled your initials at the bottom of each column. Your checks and other mail are on your desk in the basket. Woo’s rent check is there too. I can make a deposit at the bank for you if you like.”

  “I would appreciate it, Jasper.”

  “You haven’t said anything about the new windows. Does that mean you’re going to accept them or does it mean you didn’t notice them?”

  “I noticed them. I’m just too weary to argue. I’ll pay Ross back. I know he meant well.”

  “He said he did it for the dogs. The drafts on the floor were terrible, and those dogs are low to the ground. Please, accept the windows in the spirit they were meant. Well, now that my job is done, I guess I’ll be heading back to town. If you need anything or if I can be of any help, don’t be shy about calling.”

  “My deposit tickets are in the top drawer of the desk, Jasper. Is Ross coming back tonight?”

  “I believe so. His jury went out and said it would be a few days before they arrived at a verdict. He’s certain he’s going to win. For Woo’s sake, I hope he does.”

  “Will Pete walk again, Jasper?”

  “I don’t know, Jory. His parents still don’t know about the accident. He persuaded Ross to tell them he’s out of town on a big case. I don’t think it’s right, and neither does Ross, but who are we to take matters into our own hands? I prepared the dogs’ dinner. It’s on the counter. I’ve been feeding them at five o’clock. Are you sure you’ll be all right? I can stay longer if you need me.”

  “No, no, Jasper, I have to get back to the business of living. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for what you’ve done.”

  “Then don’t try, my dear. I’m glad you’re home.”

  Then Jasper Landers was gone and Jory was alone. Exhausted, she stretched out on the couch and was asleep within minutes, the dogs curled next to her. She woke a few minutes past five, when the dogs grew restless. “Dinnertime, I guess,” she muttered, struggling to a sitting position. She clenched her teeth as pain from her hip shot down her leg. Her eyes filled with tears when the first problem of the day presented itself. How was she to get the dogs’ plates on the floor? She tried placing all her weight on her good leg, with one hand holding on to the counter, the other balancing the dish. It simply wasn’t going to work.

  Food in sight, their noses twitching with anticipation, the dogs clamored around her feet. She knew she was going to fall, knew the dish was going to slip from her hand, but there was nothing she could do about it. She went down on her backside, the food scattering in every direction, the plate shattering in a dozen pieces. She cried with pain and humiliation and then cursed, using every dirty word she’d ever heard.

  Goddamnit, she was crippled. She rolled over onto the braided rug by the sink and cried, her fists pounding the floor.

  Ross watched his ex-wife from the back porch. His first instinct was to rush in, to pick Jory up, cradle her in his arms, and croon soft words to her. How hard this must be for her. He opened the door. “Having a tantrum?” he drawled. He knew she hadn’t hurt herself or she’d be writhing in agony instead of crying. He hoped his assessment of the situation was right.

  The dogs quieted, sitting back on their haunches, their ears straight up, their eyes bright and curious. Jory rolled onto her back to stare up at Ross. His leg was only inches from her right hand. If she wanted to, she could reach out and yank him to the floor. She bit down on her lower lip. “I slipped. I
can’t get up.”

  “Sure you can. You haven’t tried. What would you do if I weren’t here? Would you lie there and waste away or would you try and get up? Is this for my benefit, to make me feel sorry for you? I know in my gut my father offered to stay, but knowing you, you probably told him to leave, saying you could manage by yourself. So, Miss Independence, get off your ass and on your feet,” Ross said, walking away, the dogs on his heels.

  “You miserable, rotten son of a bitch!” Jory screamed. “Damn you, Ross, come back here and help me!” Silence. Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. “You better be packing your things, because when I get in there I’m going to boot your ass out the door like I did last time. Do you hear me, Ross?”

  “Clear as a bell!” Ross shouted from the living room.

  Hands spread on the floor, Jory managed to get up on her knee. She crab-walked with her hands and knee until she was next to the kitchen table. She grabbed for the table leg to bring herself to her feet.

  From his position on the other side of the doorway, Ross watched her, mouthing silent encouragement. Come on, you can do it. You’re almost up. Move your right hand, ah, that’s it, now reach for the edge of the table. He watched as she lost her grip and then regained it. He nodded his approval. She was wobbly, her grip on the edge of the table tight. He backed up a few steps and shouted, “What’s taking you so long?”

  “You better be out that front door when I get in there, Ross Landers, because I’m going to kill you and burn your body in the fireplace,” Jory shouted. Ross smiled to himself. He moved closer to the door.

  Jory looked around. She needed the pronged cane, but it was next to the sink. She swayed dizzily as she eyed it.

  “I’m waiting,” Ross singsonged.

  “You’re a low, stinking bastard, is what you are, Ross Landers. You wait, you just wait!”

  “I am waiting. How the hell hard is it to walk from the kitchen to the living room?”

  Jory reached for the back of the chair nearest her, her weight on her good leg. Her left hand inched out. Ross heard her sigh of relief. Okay, now move the chair, he silently urged her. Easy, go slow, push it with your good knee, that’s it, you’re doing fine. I knew you could do it. Pick it up, swivel on your good leg. Move the chair, easy now. Ah, you did it. He moved quickly then, to sprawl on the couch, his head turned toward the kitchen door. He waved one hand lazily. “Yoo hoo, over here.” He cringed at the murderous look on her face.

  Jory looked at the expanse of dining room floor she had to cross, and then the same distance in the living room until she could collapse onto the wing chair closest to the couch. She could feel her eyes fill, her lip start to tremble. I can’t make it, she thought. If I try, I’m going to fall. She brought her left hand up to wipe at the tears rolling down her cheeks. “I can’t make it, Ross,” she cried pitifully. “I need your help. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you and the therapist in the hospital. I didn’t want to admit . . . I should have tried harder, stayed with it instead of caving in and saying the hell with it. It was stupid of me to insist on coming home. I’m sorry. Please, Ross.”

  Suddenly she was swept into his arms. She closed her eyes to ward off the dizziness engulfing her. The cushions being propped around her felt like feathers, cotton batting, the most soothing balm in the whole world. Exhausted, she closed her eyes. She didn’t see or hear Ross run up the steps to return with the knotted string from under her pillow. He placed it in her hand.

  “Oh, Ross, what am I going to do?” she cried, grateful for his concern. “I’m crippled. I didn’t plan . . . count on something like this. I had my life mapped and charted. Why me, why did this happen to me?” She was blubbering, crying hysterically, her fingers feverish on the knots of the string.

  “You were at the wrong place at the wrong time,” he replied. “But you’re lucky compared to Woo, you’re at least walking. Woo may never walk again. So you’re going to have a slight limp, so what? You aren’t crippled, Jory. That’s the word that’s bothering you. And you’re right, you’d be farther along if you’d cooperated with the therapist, but instead you allowed yourself to wallow in self-pity. I’m not saying I wouldn’t have done the same thing. You’re right about coming home too soon too. But you’re here now, so you’ll have to make the best of it. There’s nothing wrong in asking for help. It’s the decision to ask that’s hard. I’m here, I’ll stay on and help you if you want me to. I know I was hard on you a little while ago, but I was on the other side of the door. There was no way I would have let you fall again. When you were in the doorway, I didn’t let you fall. Now, do you see what you’re up against?”

  “I’m sorry I yelled at you like that.”

  Ross laughed. “No, you’re not. You had to take out your frustration on someone. I was that someone. Do you want me to stay?”

  “Yes, of course. The dogs need you.” She looked up at him through tear-filled eyes. “I need you too, much as I hate to admit it.”

  “Okay, this is the plan, then. I have to be in court until the jury comes back with their verdict. Two more days at the most. I can have my father come back or I can arrange things for you so you don’t have any more bad episodes. Who knows, the jury might come in tomorrow. If they do, we can set things up so you have a schedule. I can call the therapist first thing in the morning—I’m sure your insurance will cover it, and if not, I’ll tack it on to the window money you owe me. I figure three bucks a month for thirty years will just about do it. You can afford three dollars a month, right?”

  “Yeah, I guess so. I’m not in a position to be proud right now. Three dollars a month is fine with me. What about those ramps I saw when I came home?”

  “Premature on my part. I thought, still think, Woo will want to come back here. He’ll be in a wheelchair for a while. I didn’t know if you would be or not. They can be dismantled with little trouble.”

  “You really did take over, didn’t you?” Jory said wanly. “Your father wrote my column, both of you took care of the dogs, the new windows, the ramps . . .”

  There was an edge in Ross’s voice when he said, “You thought we were just rich people who breathed air other people needed to live. I suppose you’re right in a way. Believe it or not, my father distinguished himself—in my eyes at least. He had this system, and by God it worked. We were like a well-oiled machine. Watch this!”

  “Murphy!” The four dogs pranced over to the couch and lined up. Ross snapped his fingers. To Jory he said, “Don’t laugh or you’ll spoil it.” A moment later the dogs returned, each dragging a colored sweater. Ross bent down and slipped them over the dogs’ heads. He snapped his fingers twice. The dogs trotted over to the corner and returned with colored leashes that matched their sweaters. They waited patiently until Ross put on his coat. “We’ll be back in exactly ten minutes. Hey, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Wait.”

  Giggling, Jory waited for their return.

  In exactly ten minutes they were back. “Everyone did what they were supposed to do in their designated spot,” Ross said. “If you’ll notice, Miss Ryan, there are no papers scattered about.” He removed the sweater and leashes. The dogs dragged them back to the box by the hat rack and returned again to line up at the couch.

  “You can fetch it now.” The dogs trotted off obediently, to return dragging a paper sack with a string around the top. “Treats!” He handed out four chew bones. “For some reason they won’t take the sack back.”

  Jory smiled, the color back in her cheeks. “I don’t believe this.”

  “I didn’t either until my father demonstrated. He really worked with them. Jory, he hunkered down, cooked, did dishes, tidied up, even washed clothes. In his life he’d never done anything like that. I believe he had the time of his life. He did your column while the dogs worked on their chew bones. It takes them exactly an hour to devour them. He had it down to a science. At night after dinner, I took over and he typed up the column himself, using two fingers. Sometimes he worked until three in the morning
. We got along swell, really got to know one another. There’s more to my father than what you see. You look tired, Jory.”

  “I’d like a drink, Ross. A glass of wine. A big glass.”

  “Now, before we eat?”

  “Yes. I think we should make a toast to your capabilities.”

  Ross’s chest puffed out. “Let’s not spoil this with a bunch of accolades, okay?”

  “Okay.” Jory raised her glass. “To a job well done. Thanks, Ross.”

  Ross took a sip and raised his glass a second time. “To your complete recovery. One that won’t happen overnight.”

  They both sipped, then Jory asked quietly, “What’s going to happen to Woo?”

  “I don’t know,” Ross replied. “He’s stubborn, like you. I think we’ll know more in a few weeks. I filed a lawsuit on his behalf. Yours too.”

  “You did?”

  “Of course. Your auto insurance gave you blue book value for your car. It was completely totaled. It wasn’t all that much. I showed them the four new tires, so they added a little to the payout. I took the liberty of ordering you a new station wagon. It makes your monthly payment, spread out over thirty years as discussed earlier, five dollars a month. Maybe it’s six. I have it all written down somewhere. Anyway, they’ll deliver the car anytime you feel you’re ready for it.”

  “How many cars were involved in the accident?”

  “Eight altogether. I’ve had two offers to settle Woo’s case, but I turned both of them down. I won’t let Woo settle until I know if he’s going to be permanently disabled. Their last offer was seventy thousand. I’m jamming his profession down their throats. How does a lawyer do trial work in a wheelchair? I’m prepared to go to court, and the company knows it. What’s more, I was involved. Me, another lawyer, a respected Landers. Woo will do all right financially, I guarantee it.”

  “Pete is lucky to have a friend like you, Ross.”

  “I’m the lucky one. You ready for dinner?”

  “Depends. What is it?”