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Well Read, Then Dead(79)

By: Terrie Farley Moran


            I was already talking as I rushed into the apartment, only to have Bridgy shush me into silence and point to the phone at her ear.

            She was smiling and gushing into her cell. “No. No problem at all. Of course. We’ll take care of it. No. It’s definitely not an inconvenience. See you later.”

            “Sas, I have such great news. Grab a bottle of water. Do you want me to drive?” And she marched past me. She had her hand on the doorknob before she realized that I stood rooted to the spot. Clearly this was one of those frequent times when Bridgy was overjoyed and I had not even a hint as to what was going on.

            “Come on.” Her insistence was all the more annoying because my head was filled with Ellis Selkirk and the Ten Thousand Islands.

            “Wait a minute. I picked up news at the library that you’re going to want to hear.”

            Bridgy looked at the books still resting in the crook of my arm. “You can show me the books later.”

            Frustrated, I dropped my books on the hall table. “Okay. What’s so important?’

            “Miguel is home. And if that is not important enough for you, he’s going to adopt Bow. So we have to go to Doctor Mays’s office, get Bow and deliver her to Miguel.” Bridgy glanced at the clock on her phone. “It’s getting late. Let’s hustle.”

            She had trumped me once again. As manic as I was about finding Bucket Hat, he’d have to get in line behind Miguel and Bow. Having been home for less than five minutes, I turned and followed Bridgy out the door.

            We zipped along the boulevard. Traffic was light because most islanders were home having dinner. I always marveled how quiet the town got by five o’clock only to liven up again an hour or so later.

            I thought Miguel would be in the hospital for weeks, but when I asked Bridgy why he was being released so quickly, she pointed out that hospitals don’t want people taking up bed space and trading germs with other patients.

            Miguel’s sister Elena explained to Bridgy that Miguel badgered the doctor until he got permission to go home provided he had live-in help. Fortunately, Elena and his aunt Caridad agreed to stay at his house. Esther, the long-suffering therapist I’d met on my first visit, was arranging for home therapy until Miguel was able to go to the physical rehabilitation center.

            As someone who’d never had more than a head cold, the caretaking arrangements alone would be enough to frazzle me. I had a flickering thought of being trapped in the turret with Bridgy and Ophie running my life. For good measure, my well-meaning but chronically disorganized mother would show up with herbs she grew in her basement garden in the Brooklyn brownstone where she raised me on organic milk and mung bean hummus. She’d waltz in, stroke my brow, then force me to drink some potion made with dandelion, elderberry and Lord knows what else.

            I was thankful that my being healthy kept my mother’s cures at bay. Of course, she’d say that the reason I’m healthy is because of all the concoctions she fed me through the years.

            Doctor Mays told us that Bow was in fine fettle and ready to venture out in the world.

            “I sent a full report to Animal Rescue. Please give them a call and tell them about Bow’s new home so they can register the owner and close out her case. Come on back to the examining room. Wait until you see how well she is doing.”

            Bow was lying in her carrier on the exam table where we’d first left her yesterday. Doctor Mays put two treats on the table and opened the carrier door.

            Bow pranced out, her black coat all clean and shiny with her new blue ribbon tied gaily around her neck. She ignored us all, but we knew she was content because she held her tail high. She sniffed her treats and then chewed them daintily. Doctor Mays rubbed gently behind her ears, and Bow purred in response.