Davis, Pat Jeanne

Vicky sat at the kitchen table, poured a cup of coffee and winced at her reflection in the side of the chrome toaster. No man and no job. The chiming of the doorbell intruded upon her gloomy thoughts.

A woman with gray hair and bright blue eyes stood on the step outside. “Hello. I’m Emily from across the road,” she said, smiling. “I hate to disturb you, but your dog’s barking in my back yard.”

“Sorry. There’s a faulty catch on my gate that I meant to fix.” She grabbed Luke’s leash from a hook on the back of the door and extended her hand. “I'm Vicky.”

“I wouldn’t mind, but my son works nights. Are you on vacation this week?”

“No, I lost my job.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Vicky hurried after Emily, admiring the neat layout of Emily’s yard. She spotted Luke sitting by a fish pond, surrounded by a riot of flowers and blossom-laden trees.

As Vicky was leaving with her retriever, Emily touched her arm. “Good luck finding work. Let me know if I can be of any help, dear.”

Vicky smiled. “Thank you.”

Back home she flopped onto the settee and drank cold coffee while Luke sprawled across her feet. “There’s still you, old fella, and a friendly neighbor.”

She hoped her melancholy would soon pass, realizing she was fortunate to have a place with a yard for Luke. And she’d dropped two dress sizes on the new diet, placing her almost at the ideal weight for her medium frame. But still not as slim as the woman Bob dumped her for.

Tears stung the back of her eyes, and she reached down to stroke Luke’s coat. “You’ll go for a run this afternoon and then I must fix that latch.”

New routines felt strange as the weeks dragged, and Vicky grappled for some semblance of normality while looking for another job. She now had time to spend with her mother at the nursing home and to volunteer her services there.

Leaving the house one afternoon, she spotted Emily standing at the curb. A man—not much taller than her own five-feet-eight—was unloading bags from Emily’s car. Vicky crossed the street.

“This is my son Ben. Ben, Vicky,” Emily said, jerking her head toward him.

He turned round. Vicky held out her hand and smiled.

“Er, sorry, no free hands,” he said.

Vicky’s gaze shifted from his warm brown eyes to the packages piled up in his arms.

As Ben walked away, Emily leaned over and whispered, “Not so friendly with women. His wife left him last summer.”

She squeezed Emily’s arm and attempted a smile.“ I’m off to do some shopping and then the fitness center.”

Seated in the car, Vicky watched in her rear-view mirror as Ben walked back to where his mother stood. Where had she seen him before? She searched her memory, but with no success.

Shopping done, she walked the short distance from the car to the gym, flipping through a magazine as she went.

“Can you read and open the door, too?” she heard someone say in a deep, masculine voice.

She looked up to see Ben. He shifted a duffel bag to his shoulder and stepped back into the lobby to let her in. “Vicky, isn’t it?” He swiped his forehead with the back of his arm, perspiration running down his cheek.

She dropped the magazine into her oversized bag. “And you’re Ben.”

“We meet again,” he said, still holding the door.

Vicky smiled. “Looks like you’ve had a good workout.”

He glanced down at his clothes and shifted his feet. “Need to shower and change before going into Jefferson.”

“Jefferson! The hospital? So that’s where I’ve seen you.”

“I thought your face looked familiar too.”

She met his gaze. “I worked there for four years until they reorganized my department.

“It’s six years for me on the fifth floor.”

Vicky’s pulse quickened. Had she seen him while a patient on his unit or elsewhere around the hospital? She took a deep calming breath. “So you're a psychiatric nurse?”

Ben nodded.

Vicky felt a tight knot in the pit of her stomach and scrambled for something more to say. Since the break-up a year ago she’d tried hard to leave painful memories behind and to force that brief hospital stay for depression from her mind..

“Probably saw you on one of my rare day shifts.”

Vicky threw him an anxious glance. “Possibly.”

“About the job loss. You’ll find another one I’m sure,” Ben said, flashing a captivating wide smile.

She attempted to sound cheerful. “I have an interview tomorrow.”

“Try to be optimistic.” He adjusted his cap. “Maybe we’ll run into each other again.”

“I expect to be home most days,” she called after him, hoping they’d do more than bump into each other.

Two days later, Vicky went to open the front door, dressed in a crumpled blue robe. Who could it be at this hour?

Ben stood with Luke at his side. “Your dog likes my house,” he said, grinning.

“I’m sorry he’s a bother.”

“No bother. I just got off work.”

“I thought I had repaired that latch,” Vicky said, regretting she hadn’t even dressed or combed her hair.

He stooped and stroked Luke’s neck. “Have you found anything yet?” He was looking at her dog, but addressing her.

“No . . . not yet.”

Ben stood up. “Don’t give up hope.” He made to leave, then turned. “Would you like me to look at your gate now?”

She smiled. “If it wouldn’t be any trouble.”

“Sometimes it’s just a matter of having the right tools.”

“I’ll pour you a cup of coffee before you start.”

“Sounds good.”

In no time, Ben had repaired the latch. Luke cavorted across the lawn while they looked on, laughing.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” she said, grateful that her dog had a secured space to romp.

Ben gazed into her eyes, smiling. “No need for that.” Then he cleared his throat. “Look . . . are you free this Saturday? I’m going for a hike in the hills.” He patted his waist. “Need to lose weight.”

Luke jumped up and planted his paws on Ben’s chest. He ruffed the dog’s ears. “Lot's more room there for him to run.”

Vicky’s heartbeat picked up in anticipation of spending a day with Ben. “Thanks for asking,” she said, her tone masking her excitement.

“Well, need to get some shut-eye. The unit was busy last night. You know how it goes.”

Vicky studied his intent expression and nodded. She watched him cross the street, her heart surged with the prospect of a fresh start. If it hadn’t been for the defective latch, she might’ve never had a chance to get to know Ben.

The fluttering of a curtain across the road caught her eye. She saw Emily step back from the window. Vicky pressed her nose against Luke's snout. “So . . . who’s the matchmaker here? Emily or you?”