Evening Stars

The tech returned with a leash and cloth collar, along with a couple of old towels. Averil thanked her, paid the bill and walked to her car. Penny had accepted the collar and leash without complaint and now walked beside her. When they reached the car, Averil opened the back door.

Penny looked from her to the seat.

“Come on, Penny. Can you jump?”

Penny did as requested.

Averil laughed. “Good girl,” she said. “You’re smart, you know that? All right. Let’s make you a bed.”

She folded the towels into squares and placed them on the seat. Then she unfastened the leash. She patted the soft fabric.

“Come on, Penny. This is for you.”

Penny placed one paw on the towel.

“Good girl. Yes, you get comfy for the rest of the drive, okay?”

Penny turned twice on the towels, then laid down with a sigh. Averil stroked her a couple more times before closing the door and walking around to the driver’s side. By the time she pulled onto the freeway, the dog was asleep.

* * *

The afternoon had started to wane by the time Averil made her way over the bridge leading to Blackberry Island. Penny had slept for most of the drive north. They’d stopped at a couple of rest stops so they could both use the bathroom, and Averil had given the dog light meals. It turned out that Penny was also a big fan of burgers, so they’d shared lunch at a McDonald’s just south of Portland.

Now they were nearly done with their drive.

Averil was both relieved and oddly tense as she took in the familiar sights on the island where she’d grown up. As a kid she’d ridden her bike over nearly every foot of road here and had explored vineyards and coasts. She’d swum in the ocean, eaten at most of the restaurants and stands and knew at least one kid from all the local families.

Blackberry Island had always been home. It was the place that made the most sense to her. It was where she always knew who she was.

She supposed that was part of the problem. In Mischief Bay she had many roles. She was a reporter, a writer, a wife. In Mischief Bay, she was a grown-up. Here she was Nina’s little sister. Bonnie’s youngest. There weren’t expectations.

In her head she knew that running back home wasn’t exactly a testament to her maturity, but she could live with that. The truth was, somewhere along the way, she’d gotten lost, and now she didn’t know what she wanted.

About a mile from the house, she pulled off the main road and parked by the beach. She collected Penny’s leash and walked around to the passenger-side back door. Penny sat up, waiting for her. Her long tail thumped steadily.

“So you like me now, do you?” Averil asked with a grin. “It was the burger, wasn’t it?”

She clipped on the leash, then stepped back. Penny jumped to the ground and started to sniff.

“There’s a doggie area over there,” Averil said as she pointed to the square of gravel just off the beach.

Penny used the facilities, then the two of them went for a walk along the rocky sand. The air was warm, the sun bright in the sky. Due west was the Strait of Juan de Fuca. That body of water separated Washington’s northwest peninsula from Vancouver Island. Somewhere in the middle of the strait was the line between the United States and Canada. About sixty miles due west was open ocean.

Averil remembered her friends staring out at the strait and talking about getting on a boat and sailing away. To see what was out there. She’d been less interested in leaving and found little appeal in the thought of days or weeks at sea. Nor had she wanted to go to UCLA. That had been Nina’s dream for her. But she’d made it sound so wonderful that Averil had agreed.

Now she was home—whatever that meant.

“I’m not making much sense, am I?” she asked Penny.

The dog glanced at her and gave a tentative tail wag.

“Come on, Penny. Let’s go face the music.”

They walked back to the car. Penny settled on her bed, and Averil started down the familiar road.

When she saw the house, her eyes began to burn. Nothing had changed, she thought with relief. Not the street or the neighborhood. Everything was as she remembered.

Emotions tore through her. She fought against them, not sure if she was happy, sad or desperately confused. By the time she’d parked the car, she was crying.

Nina opened the front door and walked out. Averil stumbled to her feet and rushed toward her.

“Hey, it’s okay,” her big sister told her. “You don’t have to cry.”

But it was too late. Averil hung on tight, sobs tearing through her. She cried without knowing why, but now that she was home, that was okay, too.

* * *

Nina stood in the center of the bedroom. Averil had been home all of thirty minutes. She’d carried her suitcase into her old room, changed into PJs and climbed into bed. From the looks of things, she didn’t plan on getting out any time soon. Nina had brought her water and a sandwich. Averil had consumed both, then stretched out with her eyes closed.

“Thanks Nina,” she said, her voice sleepy. “You’ve been great. I feel a lot better.”

Nina sat on the edge of the bed, still not sure why her sister was home and what would happen now that she was. Nina stroked Averil’s hair and felt a rush of affection. They were sisters. They loved each other. Despite how they fought like cats and dogs, that wouldn’t change. And speaking of which...

“Tell me about the dog,” she murmured.

Averil opened her eyes and smiled. “Her name is Penny and she’s sweet.” She explained about finding her. “I’ve fed her and she went to the bathroom before we got here. I’ll set my phone to wake me up so I can take her out in a couple of hours.”

“What about bowls and a bed?”

Averil yawned. “She’s been on her own for at least a month. She isn’t expecting much. I’ve got food and I’ll get the rest tomorrow. I love you, Neenie.”

Nina smiled. She hadn’t been called that in years. “I love you, too, kid.”

With that, she rose and walked out of the room.

Once in the hall, she hesitated. Should she shut the door? Penny followed her, watching with her big, brown eyes.

“You’re unexpected,” Nina told the dog.

Penny’s tail wagged, and she followed Nina into the kitchen.

Averil had left her luggage in a pile in the living room. One suitcase was open, with half the contents spilling out over the floor. In the kitchen was a bag of food and some instructions.

“You’ll need to eat soon,” Nina said as she read over the notes. “Small meals several times a day. Canned would be good.” She looked through the luggage Averil hadn’t dragged to her room. There were a couple of ratty towels and a jacket, but no dog food beyond the small bag that was about a third gone. No bed, either.

“My sister isn’t much of a planner,” Nina told the dog. Penny thumped her tail.

Nina grabbed her purse and headed for her car. While there wasn’t a pet store on the island and she didn’t have time to make the drive across the bridge, there was a large general store with a decent pet section.