Page 13 of Sneak Attack

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There were now two grocery stores in town. An ALDI that had been built at some point in the last seven years, and the local Frank’s Grocers. I went there, because even though ALDI had come to town back when I lived there, I vividly remembered the frustration of chain stores and restaurants taking over the small town. It was all anyone’s parents and grandparents used to talk about. “Soon we’ll be all strip malls and parking lots and there goes the town…” used to be common phrases I’d hear while my parents mingled with others, trying to find their community outside Marysville Presbyterian Church at potlucks after Sunday services.

If I was going to be seen for the first time, visible, in town, it most definitely wasn’t going to be in a chain store with a target on my back for more ridicule and head shaking filled with Southern disapproval.

I took Marley to church yesterday, picked her up when I knew she’d be ready to come back home, but until Monday and going to the doctor’s office in Nashville with her, hadn’t ventured back to town.

Fear of Selma? Hell yes.

Fear of running into Cole or seeing his son again? Absolutely.

But now it was Wednesday afternoon, and I’d been back for almost a week. Kids weren’t back in school yet, but would be heading that way soon, but most parents would be at work. It should be a quick in and out trip. While the grocery store was large enough to have everything, it was also small enough you couldn’t get lost or linger. Small mercies.

Marley’s truck quieted once I parked and turned off the engine. A quick scan of the dozen or so cars in the parking lot didn’t look familiar, and while Marysville was close to Nashville, they’d always prided themselves on the small-town feel and lifestyle which meant people didn’t trade in their cars and trucks every three years like people did with leases. They drove them until the engines fell out, and then the majority bought used to replace it. Or hell, rebuilt the engine from scratch in their Pawpaw’s garage.

Nerves ignited as I entered the store and grabbed a cart. Marley’s diet was strict but based on the leftovers I’d thrown away this morning, she wasn’t intent on following the doctor’s recommendations for that either.

Monday’s conversation lingered, and while I’d tried to approach her about it, I’d been shut down. I understood faith and belief in God. I’d been raised in a church my entire life until I left Marysville. I’d always found a peacefulness in the walls of a church building, and I’d had several pastors I enjoyed listening to and learning from. I also understood being ready to go, not wanting to fight.

What I couldn’t fathom was a life or world or small town without Marley’s stubborn but gentle spirit in it.

Perhaps it was selfish of me to want to keep her here for me, especially when I had no plans to stay, but I wasn’t the only one who needed her.

My thoughts drifted to her, the grocery list full of healthy items I actually enjoyed but Marley would scoff her nose at, and I turned the corner of the baking aisle only to pull up to an abrupt stop before I slammed into another.

“Sorry,” I apologized and then noticed the dark purple scrubs. So similar to what I saw the other day at the park and head full of short, highlighted blonde hair spun in my direction right before…

“No worries.” A woman smiled, and thank goodness, it wasn’t Selma. “I was distracted, probably my fault.”

This woman’s face wasn’t only kind, the stitching on her chest made me smile. “Are you a vet?” I nodded at the bright white stitching Boone Farm Animal Hospital.

“I am.” She grinned at me. “Dr. Kessick. Nora.”

It was fate. Had to be. After the week I had, I desperately needed to be around an animal. Any kind for all I cared. “This is going to make me sound absolutely crazy, but do you need volunteers? Or know someone who does? I’m sorry—” I probably came across like a lunatic. “I’m Eden. Eden Barclay and I’m a vet tech down in Florida, but I’m here for a while, and I’ve been looking at shelters, but haven’t found much luck in any nearby that need more help right now.”

“Sure. Makes sense since most of them need a lot of foster parents for animals.”

“And I’m not in the place where I can do that right now.” Dogs and dog fur and cat fur wouldn’t be good for Marley. At least I assumed they wouldn’t, but I didn’t want to test it either.

“Hmm.” Her lips pushed to one side. “Let me think on that. Do you have a way for me to reach out to you, or…wait!” She dug into her purse and pulled out a business card. “Give me a few days. I might know of something but want to check first. Give me a call or shoot me an email, and just ask for me.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Happy to help. I know what it’s like to be new in town.”

I held my tongue. I was new, but wasn’t, and I definitely wasn’t going to explain. “Thanks.”

“Nice meeting you, Eden. Give me a call and we’ll chat, okay?”

“Sounds good.” I held on to her card until she moved her own cart around mine and we went our separate directions.

I’d probably made a fool out of myself, but if it could get me sitting with animals it was worth it.

* * *

It was late. Dark. Crickets and chirping cicadas filled the night as I made my way through Marley’s property out to the lake. She was asleep, worn out from the day. While I could probably go to bed and be asleep before my head hit the pillow, memories kept me awake, drove me to grab a bottle of wine, glass and opener, and head to the one place I swore I would never venture to when I returned.

The rock.

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