What Looks Like Crazy Read online

  “Have you ever put up wallpaper?”

  “No.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  I was on my third pot of coffee—if I took it slow, I could manage it with my wrist in a cast—and the morning sun was peeking through the curtains by the time I’d reached the bare walls in my kitchen. I had worked through the night. My hair was sticky with the wallpaper-removal gel, and I had several thin strips of paper plastered to my cast, my arms, and my bare legs.

  I heard the click of Mike’s toenails as she entered the room and looked about. She had come in several times during the night to watch. Since I’d already been up, I had checked on the runt and made sure he nursed every couple of hours.

  “What do you think?” I asked Mike. “A little more sanding here and there, and I’ll be finished.”

  Her tail did a little wag before she made her way to the back door. I let her out. While I waited, I slumped in a chair at the kitchen table, crossed my arms, and put my head down. I was bone tired. Stripping wallpaper, especially with only one hand, is no picnic. I had no idea why I’d chosen to work all night. Probably because the job had sucked so bad that I figured if I stopped, I’d never get back to it. Or maybe I was so desperate to start feeling better about my life that I was just clinging to anything that might bring a ray of hope my way.

  You used to be a lot of fun, Kate.

  I closed my eyes. I knew Thad was right. Despite my shaky formative years, I’d managed to emerge optimistic and eager about my future. I’d derived great pleasure from helping people.

  In my brief marriage, I’d joined other firefighters’ wives in various fund-raising schemes, and I attended every social function, be it a bridal or baby shower, a barbecue, or the annual Christmas party. Jay’s friends, and their wives and kids, had become like family. Several of the wives had continued to call after Jay and I split. We could have remained friends, but I sadly let them go. I didn’t want to be reminded of all I’d lost.

  Maybe I wasn’t a barrel of laughs at the moment, but the deep-down sense of optimism remained. I would get through this.

  When I opened my eyes, the kitchen was bathed in light, and my back and shoulders were stiff and sore. I blinked several times as I stretched and tried to work out the kinks. I looked at the clock. It was after eight. Eight! Holy crap, I was supposed to have Mike and her pups at the vet’s office at eight thirty. Where the heck was Mike?

  I jumped up, raced to the back door, and threw it open. Mike was lying spread-eagled in a patch of sun. She opened her eyes and wagged her tail, but didn’t make a move to get up.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded. “We’re supposed to be at the vet’s office in fifteen minutes! How come you didn’t wake me? How come you’re out here sunbathing when you have a boxful of puppies to take care of? Why am I even talking to you?”

  In response, Mike rolled over, got to her feet, and gave a good shake before heading inside. I grabbed the phone book and searched frantically for Midtown Veterinary Clinic.

  I dialed the number quickly. My fingernails were stuffed with wallpaper gunk. A woman answered, and I wasted no time.

  “This is Kate Holly, and I have an appointment to see Dr. Henry at eight thirty, and I just woke up. Could I reschedule for later in the day?”

  “We’re only here until noon, Ms. Holly,” the woman said, “and there isn’t another time available. Would you like something for next week?”

  “I can’t wait that long.”

  “What would you like to do, Ms. Holly?” the voice asked.

  I knew I looked like a nightmare, but I couldn’t risk missing the appointment. I needed to have the vet examine the little runt. “Okay,” I said quickly, talking more to myself than her. “I may be five or ten minutes late, but I’ll be there.”

  I hung up and hurried to the bathroom. I tried not to shriek at my own reflection. There was no time for a shower. I washed my face and hands, and tried to comb some of the gel from my hair. I raced up the stairs, changed into jeans, and pulled on my sneakers.

  Downstairs, I tucked my purse beneath my arm and ran into the laundry room, where I shooed Mike from the box. “You should have thought about feeding your children while you were out sunbathing,” I said crossly. “Now you’ve made us late.”

  It seemed to take forever to get us all in the car, which gave me a new respect for parents who are able to get their children fed, dressed, and at school before lunchtime each day.

  We were fifteen minutes late for our appointment, but the young receptionist was nice about it. I don’t know whether it was due to the desperation on my face or whether she felt embarrassed for any woman who would go out in public looking like I did.

  She grabbed a clipboard and led me to one of the examination rooms. Mike followed.

  “I just need to ask a couple of questions before Dr. Henry comes in,” she said. “You can put the box on the exam table.”

  Mike nudged me several times as I rattled off my name, address, and phone number; I suddenly realized she must be anxious over her puppies. I picked her up and put her in the box with them.

  “What is your dog’s name and age?” the girl asked.

  “Her name is Mike. She’s a stray, so I have no idea how old she is. Correction—she was a stray before I let her in and she had puppies in my laundry room.”

  “Sounds like we have a Good Samaritan on our hands,” a man said from the doorway.

  I glanced over my shoulder and saw a hunk in a white lab coat. He smiled and took the clipboard from the receptionist.

  “I’m Dr. Jeff Henry.” He offered his hand.

  I laughed self-consciously. “You don’t want to shake hands with me. I’ve been stripping wallpaper all night.”

  He chuckled. “Afraid I’ll stick to you?”

  I smiled, but the thought of him sticking to me made my stomach quiver. “This is Mike,” I said, “and these are her offspring. They were born in the wee morning hours last Tuesday.”

  Dr. Henry patted Mike on the head. “I take it this was an unplanned pregnancy?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know the details, but I’m pretty sure it was the result of a one-night stand.”

  He looked at Mike and grinned. “And you look like such a nice, respectable girl.” He stroked Mike with one hand and gently lifted each puppy. He examined them quickly, took their temperatures, clipped their dew claws, and weighed them. “Are they staying nice and warm?” he asked.

  “Yes, there’s a heating pad in the box.”

  He nodded, then frowned once he weighed the runt. “This little fellow might not make it.”

  I heard myself gasp. “Oh no!”

  Dr. Henry looked at me, and his expression became gentle. His eyes were liquid brown. “I’m sorry. Not all puppies survive, even under the best conditions. Since this mother was probably a stray like you say, there’s no way to know if she was eating regularly, although she doesn’t look malnourished.” He placed the puppy in the palm of his hand and pulled the skin away from the back of his neck and watched it. “Is he nursing as often as the others, do you know?”

  “A friend has been helping me see that he nurses as much as possible.”

  “He should be placed on a teat before the others, but as long as he is interested in nursing, let’s not make any changes. If he doesn’t gain over the next couple of days, or if he loses interest and becomes lethargic, I can show you how to tube-feed him. That’s really about all you can do, to be perfectly honest.”

  He put the runt down and checked Mike’s eyes and teeth before running his hands through her fur and finally looking at her nails. “She hasn’t had a lot of attention, and she definitely needs to be on vitamins.” He thumped her stomach lightly and listened with his stethoscope, then took her temperature. Mike sat through it quietly. “What do you plan to do with them?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t want to take them to the shelter.”

  He nodded. “It’s a hard decision,” he said. “Mike will need to be tes
ted for parasites and go on heartworm medication. She’ll need the usual bout of shots. You’ll want to have her spayed.” He looked at me. “It can get expensive, and that doesn’t include worming and vaccinating the puppies.”

  “Good thing I’m filthy rich, huh?” I said dully.

  He smiled. “I have a feeling that if you were filthy rich, you would have let someone else spend the night stripping off your wallpaper.”

  “I’m sort of taking it one day at a time,” I said after a moment, “although I think I’ve found a home for one of them once they’re weaned.”

  “You can take a picture of them in a couple of weeks and put it on the bulletin board in the waiting room,” he suggested. “Since you’re not a breeder, I’ll give them their worm medicine and shots at cost when it’s time, and I won’t charge you for their exams.”

  His gaze was warm and compassionate, and I could tell he liked his job and took it seriously. “Thank you, Dr. Henry.”

  “Jeff.”

  My gaze automatically went to his ring finger. I wanted to be able to give Mona the goods on the man. There was no wedding band.

  He finished up. “Why don’t you touch base with me in a couple of days, let me know how the runt is doing. Or you can wrap him in a towel and bring him by, and I’ll weigh him.”

  I felt eager about coming back, and wondered whether my broken heart was beginning to heal or whether I was just hopeful, desperate, or downright pathetic. Jeff carried the box to my car while I paid the bill. I asked myself whether he was just a supergreat vet or whether he was mildly interested in me. One look in the rearview mirror at my gunk-filled hair and unmade-up face convinced me he had acted out of pure sympathy.

  chapter 12

  I’d showered and taken a two-hour nap when the phone rang. Mona was ready to hit the mall. My job was to help her carry the shopping bags. I was willing to do this from time to time because she worked for me for free.

  “I’ll go, but only if Mrs. Perez can check on the puppies every couple of hours until we get back. Somebody has to make sure Runt nurses.”

  “Runt? You actually named him Runt? Won’t that give him a complex?”

  “His ears aren’t open yet,” I told her. “Maybe I’ll come up with something new before he’s able to hear.”

  “Mrs. Perez has already agreed to babysit,” Mona assured me. “I can tell she’s really attached to Mike and the puppies. She might be able to help you find homes for them.”

  “That’s great,” I said, knowing Mrs. Perez would be very selective.

  “So how soon can you be ready?”

  I arrived at Mona’s an hour later, wearing one of my nicest outfits and comfortable shoes. Mona’s choice of malls was Phipps Plaza. Not only is it in ritzy Buckhead, but it is considered the premier place to shop and has all of Mona’s favorite stores under one roof: Nordstrom, Saks Fifth Avenue, Gucci, Giorgio, and other such exclusive shops. There is an unspoken dress code at Phipps Plaza: you do not want to arrive in cutoff jeans and flip-flops.

  That’s why I’m partial to Wal-Mart. At Wal-Mart nobody cares if some guy leaning over to study hammers is showing three inches of butt crack. All shoppers are created equal at Wal-Mart, as long as their credit cards are good.

  Phipps Plaza offers a Cadillac valet service at the main entrance. For a nominal fee they’ll park your car and retrieve it. If you’re driving a Cadillac, the service is free. Mona insists on using the limo because it is, after all, head and shoulders above a Cadillac.

  Over lunch, I told Mona how I’d spent my evening and about meeting Dr. Jeff Henry.

  A look of disbelief crossed her face. “You actually went to his office covered in wallpaper goop? Why didn’t you reschedule?”

  “I was worried about Runt, and I’d missed the first appointment when I had to go to the ER. Besides, I didn’t know the man was going to be gorgeous,” I added.

  “Wedding band?”

  “No.”

  “Are you interested?”

  “No. That’s why I’m giving you the goods on him. I just like looking at the man, you know?”

  Mona seemed to ponder it. “I think I’ll stick with the chiropractor for now. I don’t want to have to go out and buy a dog in case you discover you like this guy after all. Although—” She paused. “I suppose I could borrow my neighbor’s Lhasa apso and check him out. I need a really sexy breed to take in, you know? The breed of dog says a lot about the owner.”

  “Then I’m screwed,” I said, thinking of Mike and her unattractive coat. At the same time, I couldn’t believe the conversation we were having. Dr. Jeff Henry probably already had a girlfriend.

  Five hours and an armload of shopping bags later, I managed to point to my wristwatch. “I need to head back,” I said. My lack of sleep the night before was starting to catch up with me.

  Mona still had the glazed look in her eyes that told me she had not yet satisfied her need to touch raw silk and high-quality linen. She gave a heartfelt sigh but whipped out her cell phone to notify her chauffeur she was ready for him to pick us up.

  We arrived back at Mona’s. As I was climbing from the limo, she reached inside one of her shopping bags and pulled out a smaller one. “This is for you.”

  “You didn’t have to do this,” I said, touched that Mona had gotten me the entire gift set of my favorite Donna Karan perfume. She had introduced me to it the previous Christmas.

  “You earned it,” Mona said.

  I returned to the hardware store and found the red-haired kid sweeping. He recognized me right away.

  “How did it go?” he asked. “Were you able to get the wallpaper off?”

  “Yes, but I will never put myself through that again. I was hoping you could give me the name of someone who could put the new paper up for me. Preferably somebody affordable,” I added.

  “Uh-oh.” The kid had a limited vocabulary.

  “Is it really expensive?”

  “It’s not cheap. Plus, the good installers usually have more work than they can keep up with. You might have to go on a waiting list.”

  I wondered how long I could live with bare walls. “Okay. I’ll leave my phone number with you. I should probably pick out my paper now.”

  He stepped closer. “I’m not supposed to tell you this, but we’re having a sale next week on our stock merchandise. Thirty percent off,” he added. “Trust me, you have plenty of time.”

  “It sounds like I could get a doctor’s appointment quicker,” I mumbled.

  “Yeah, but I’ll bet your doctor doesn’t know how to put up wallpaper.”

  chapter 13

  I arrived at my office the next morning to find Mona dressed to the nines and wearing her neck brace. “I have to see my chiropractor this morning for X-rays,” she said. “I was up half the night with a backache. I think it’s from my neck injury.”

  “But you don’t really have a neck injury, Mona,” I reminded her.

  “It’s this brace. I think it did something to my alignment. Nancy is going to grab the phone while I’m out.”

  I went inside my office and called Thad. “I still haven’t heard from Harold Fry,” I said. “I’ve called his place, and I stopped by the McDonald’s where he always eats breakfast. He wasn’t there.”

  “Tell me you’re wearing a thong today,” Thad said, his voice almost pleading.

  “Did you hear what I just said? Harold Fry is still MIA!”

  “I don’t care about Harold right now, okay? Could we talk about me for once?”

  I rolled my eyes. “For once?” I repeated.

  “I went to all-night bowling with Thomas on Saturday. We drank warm beer and sat next to women who don’t shave their armpits. I’m pretty sure that’s where Thomas met Lucille.”

  Thad sounded depressed. “Maybe you’re overdoing it,” I suggested. “All I said was that you should spend some time with him. You don’t have to move in together.” Okay, so maybe I’d said a little more than that, I thought. But I’d been anno
yed with Thad at the time for getting me involved in a family dispute. I had enough of that going on in my own family.

  “We’re supposed to see Spider-Man 3 tonight. I need your help, Kate.”

  “I’m not going to volunteer to go see Spider-Man 3 in your place,” I said. “I haven’t seen one and two yet.”

  “I want you to convince Thomas to go back to Lucille.”

  “What! You can’t mean that. The woman is a sociopath.”

  “She was just angry. I’ve had women threaten to do worse than that to me, trust me.”

  “Threatening to do something and actually doing it are two different things, Thad.”

  “A woman once threatened to cut off my you-know-what and stuff it down my throat,” Thad said.

  “That was me,” I told him. “I said that when I caught you and your receptionist in your hot tub, naked.”

  “That was you! Wow, how did that slip my memory?”

  Obviously Thad had been threatened for cheating by more than one woman. “Remember? I changed my mind because I couldn’t find a dull knife.”

  Thad gave a heavy sigh. “I know I’m being driven by guilt to be with Thomas. I should have been a better brother to him.”

  “Try not to get so down on yourself,” I said, having trouble believing I was saying those words to Thad Glazer. “At least this proves you have a conscience. Besides, your brother is a big boy, and he has a business to run. He’ll understand if you’re busy.”

  “I could tell Thomas you and I had dinner plans, and I forgot. That way I wouldn’t have to hurt his feelings, and you and I could—”

  “Sorry, but I can’t have dinner with you.” I saw movement in the doorway and was stunned to find Thomas, the subject of our conversation, standing there.

  “I know all your favorite restaurants,” Thad reminded me from the other end of the line.

  “Um, someone just walked in my office. I have to go. In the meantime, you might try to figure out where Harold Fry is.” I hung up the phone. “Thomas, what a surprise!” I said.

  “I just need a minute of your time.”