“I see.”
“But under normal conditions, it wouldn’t be difficult, would it?”
Shirley lifted one shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. “Not really. The thing that troubles me most is this dog. He doesn’t seem…ordinary. And he simply won’t leave. I think that problem’s finally been solved, though. He’s at the animal shelter and he’ll probably be adopted soon.”
“Good.”
Shirley wore a sad frown. “Well, there’s nothing I can do right now, so I’ve put the matter out of my mind. I’m here to help you two.”
Mercy looked crestfallen. “My assignment’s also failing.”
“You don’t happen to need a SWAT team, do you?” Goodness asked excitedly. It seemed a shame not to call out the big guns when they might be able to help her friends, too.
Mercy’s expression was horrified. “Goodness, what are you thinking?”
She held up her hands. “Imagine this: helicopters descending, ropes dropping to the ground and men—young, handsome men—sliding down to the rooftops.”
“To do what?” Mercy cried. “You’ll ruin everything. I’ve got enough troubles with Harry and Rosalie as it is. I don’t need that kind of help. Just the sound of those helicopters would send him into cardiac arrest.”
“So what can we do?” Goodness asked. “We’ve got three unfinished assignments on our hands.”
“At this point,” Mercy suggested, “maybe we should let these situations play out and see what happens.”
It seemed so little. But perhaps Mercy and Shirley were right. She’d done her best to bring Peter and Beth together, and her efforts, such as they were, had resulted in shock and confusion. Perhaps she should step aside and see what these humans could figure out for themselves.
Still, she was disappointed.
Seventeen
Carter had been weepy and sad ever since his father had driven him to the animal shelter where they’d left Rusty. All night long, he’d lain awake, thinking about his dog. He knew how bad his parents felt, so Carter tried not to show how miserable he was.
He realized his parents didn’t have any extra money, and even the allowance he’d saved up wasn’t enough.
“Carter,” his mother called from the living room. “Come and see what your father brought home.”
Hoping against hope that it was Rusty, Carter ran into the room. It wasn’t. Instead, his mother stood in front of an artificial Christmas tree. The tree they had was dinky. So small, in fact, that it sat on the coffee table. It was in a flower pot and it was decorated with tiny glass balls. This one was real. Well, not exactly real because he could tell that the branches weren’t like those of a live tree and it didn’t have that nice Christmas smell. But it was real in size. And it came complete with strings of lights.
“A Christmas tree,” his sister squealed with delight as she joined him in the living room. “Where did you get it?”
“Your father found it,” his mother said. “On his way to work this morning, he caught a glimpse of something in an alley. He stopped, and there was the tree. Someone must’ve gotten a new tree because this one was propped up against a Dumpster. So your father brought it home for us.”
That explained why Carter had heard his father return to the house shortly after he’d left for work.
Bailey clapped her hands. Even Carter smiled. It was an old Christmas tree, a little worn and raggedy, but a whole lot better than the miniature one they had now. That one was more like a plant than a tree.
His first thought was that he wanted to show it to Rusty, except he couldn’t because Rusty wasn’t with him anymore. It hurt to remember his dog, but Carter couldn’t think about anything else. He hoped Rusty would go to a good home and that someone in his new family would love him as much as Carter did.
“Do the lights work?” Bailey asked.
“We’ll have to see,” his mother said. She got down on the floor, crawled behind the tree and plugged in the cord. The lights flickered for a moment and then went out.
“That’s probably why it was in the garbage,” Carter told his mother.
“It’s just a pretend tree,” Bailey whined.
“It’s pathetic-looking,” Carter muttered. “But…it’s okay.” He tried to pretend he was happy about the Christmas tree, and he was, only…only it was old and the lights didn’t work and no one else wanted it. That made him think of Rusty again. No one else had wanted him, either, but Carter did, in the worst way.
“We can make it look pretty,” Bailey said, rebounding from her disappointment. “I have some colored paper from school and I could make an angel for the top,” she said excitedly.
“We could string popcorn and cranberries, too,” their mother suggested.
Carter didn’t say anything for a long time. “I know how to cut out snowflakes,” he finally told her.
“Thank you, Carter.” As if recognizing how much effort it had taken him to offer, his mother hugged him tightly.
Carter tried to squirm out of her embrace. He was too big to have his mother hug him, but at the same time he kind of liked it. He didn’t want his friends to know about it, though.
“We’ll have the tree decorated when your father gets home from work,” his mother said.
“Okay.” Carter was willing to do his share.
Soon the aroma of popping corn filled the house. Carter sat at the kitchen table and patiently pierced the kernels with one of his mother’s big sewing needles. He strung twenty-five kernels, then added a cranberry. Bailey decided to string her own and followed his pattern.
“Make it your own way,” he snapped at his sister. “You don’t have to do everything like me, you know.”
“Carter,” his mother said. “She just wants her string to match yours.”
“Why can’t she do her own design?”
“Because you’re her big brother and she looks up to you.”
Carter wanted to be angry, but he wasn’t. His sister had helped him with Rusty and had loved the stray, too.
“What do you think Rusty’s doing right now?” he asked his mother. “Will he remember me?”
“Of course he will,” his mother said. “Rusty will always remember the boy who brought him food and washed the mud off his fur.”