.”Excerpt from Chapter Two

Teddy came from somewhere behind the garage in answer to Lottie’s whistle, his pink tongue dangling from the side of his mouth, ears flopping against the side of his bear-like head. Skidding to a stop in front of her, he cocked his head.

She laughed at his quizzical expression.

“Yep, we’re going for a ride.” She opened the door of the Suburban and tossed her overnight bag into the way back.

“Okay, Teddy—hop in.”

Once inside he moved to the passenger side as Lottie stepped up into the driver's seat and closed the door.

“Sit.” The dog's rump dropped on the seat with a thud. Once on the road, she opened the window enough for him to put his nose out.

On the Jersey side of the bridge they headed toward Route 80 West. Although it was barely eight o’clock, the road was already heavy with rush-hour traffic. Lottie felt a surge of irritation at the cars that hopped across lanes, blowing their horns and cutting her off.

She was driving the speed limit in the middle lane. An F350 behind her signaled he wanted to pass. Lottie couldn’t find an opening to move into the right lane. He sat on his horn, irritating her. A small break opened up in front of the Suburban. The driver of the truck gunned his engine and swerved around her, waggling his third finger as he passed. She smiled sweetly while muttering through gritted teeth, “Wouldn’t your mother be proud?”

Away from the noise and smoke of the city, she lowered her window and savored the April smell. She reached over to stroke the dog and recalled the day Paul had brought him home. He’d acted like a child with a happy secret.

“Sit down,” he said, “Close your eyes and hold out your hands.” He placed a large box on her lap.

“You can open them now.”

The box wobbled and threatened to fall. Lottie quickly pulled off the lid, revealing a curious ball of fur with liquid brown eyes. It was love at first sight.

“Oh, Paul. How wonderful. Where did you get him?”

“Someone left him in a box in the alley behind the clinic. I couldn’t just leave him there.”

“Of course you couldn’t.” The puppy jumped up and licked her nose, his entire back end wagging furiously. “You’re adorable. You look just like a Teddy Bear. That’s what I’ll call you—Teddy.”

“He’s probably going to be a big dog if his feet are any indication.”

Big dog, indeed. In two years, he'd grown to 145 pounds. He was gentle, but protective of Lottie, becoming her shadow.

“And you’re smart too, aren’t you, Teddy?” Her voice had a hollow ring. The dog turned at the sound of his name and whined softly.

At the Riverdale city limits, Lottie reached for her cell phone. Her hand shook as she picked it up—the numbers on the keypad appeared blurred. What’s the matter with me? She struggled to concentrate and managed to hit the “2” on the speed dial. It rang three times.

            “Good morning.” Her aunt’s voice seemed far away. Lottie’s tongue felt glued to the roof of her mouth.

“Hello—hello. Lottie—is that you?”

She hesitated, her thoughts muddled and struggled to get the words out. “S me.”

“Where are you?”

“Mos there.”

“Are you all right? You sound—sort of fuzzy.”

“Ss-okay, be there soon.” Lottie dropped the phone on the seat. She felt woozy, her muscles sluggish. Too late, she realized her mistake. No breakfast—insulin reaction.

Her forehead was beaded with sweat, her hands clammy as she gripped the wheel. The road seemed to dance before her, and a feeling of weakness overwhelmed her. She was losing control.

Teddy became agitated, nudging her shoulder with his nose and barking. She barely heard him. Her eyelids felt heavy and began to droop.

Jake McKinnon was whistling as he deadheaded south. This last trip had kept him away from home more than two weeks. He couldn’t wait to see Beth. She’d developed that glow that pregnant women get, yet she worried he wouldn’t think her pretty with her growing belly. Ah no, she was beautiful to him. It was his baby she was carrying after all. They were a pair. She, small-boned and petite, he big and muscular, yet trim.

A utility vehicle in the north lane drew his attention; the vehicle was proceeding erratically. He wondered if the driver was in trouble and slowed his rig, keeping an eye on the vehicle and his rear-view mirror.

            The unexpected squawk of the semi’s air horn came from somewhere in the distance. Lottie's head thudded against the steering wheel as the Suburban slid across the divider.

            Jake swore under his breath when he saw it coming. He struggled to keep his rig from smashing into the wayward vehicle. The Suburban screeched past so close he could see the color of the woman’s hair. The SUV came to an abrupt stop in a wooded area on the side of the road.

            Jake locked down his brakes and pulled the big tractor off to the side of the road, his heart pumping so loud it echoed in his ears. The truck shuddered to a stop several hundred feet past the Suburban. He turned off his engine, hit the hazard lights, and raced toward the vehicle, dropping warning cones behind his rig.

            He looked from Lottie's unconscious form slumped against the steering wheel, to the snarling dog and decided to take the risk. He spoke in an authoritative tone,

            “Easy, boy, I just want to help. I’m going to open the door. Down, boy.”

            The dog responded to the command and sat, watching Jake warily as he eased his arm in the open window, unlocked the door and turned off the engine.

            She wore a gold ID bracelet on her wrist, a caduceus on its face. He turned it over and read, “Diabetes.” He felt for her pulse and breathed a sigh of relief. Lottie moaned when he lifted her head from the wheel. He leaned over her inert form and picked up her purse, careful not to antagonize the dog. In it he found a tube labeled “Instant Glucose.” He read the directions and squeezed the contents into Lottie’s mouth.

            She responded in minutes, opening her eyes.

            Jake had his finger on the nine of his cell phone when he felt her hand on his arm.

“No-o-o, don't,” she pleaded.

“Miss, you passed out while you were driving. You could’ve been killed. I’m calling 911.”

“No-o-o, please—th – thur- s-t.”

“I don’t understand.”

She licked her lips and struggled to form the word, “thur-stee.” she repeated.

Jake looked around and spotted a thermos in the drink holder. He unscrewed the cap and poured some of the orange liquid into its cup and held it to her lips.

Lottie pointed to the glove box.

“You want something?”

“Mmm.” She nodded her head.

He opened the compartment and saw several packs of peanut butter crackers.

“I get it, you’re hungry.” He took one out, tore it open and watched as she devoured them, one after another.

“More?”

Lottie shook her head as she wiped the crumbs from her lips with the back of her hand. The reality of what had occurred finally struck her when she saw tree branches scattered across the hood of the Suburban. She looked out the side window and realized her vehicle was on the wrong side of the road. She vaguely remembered the horn, and her stomach lurched.

“How did I—?”

“You were driving all over the road. You came across the divider right in front of me. Didn't miss me by much. Scared the pants off me. You're one lucky young lady.”

“Who are you?”

“Jake McKinnon. I’m a long distance hauler. Lucky for us I’m on my way home and my rig is empty. Otherwise I might not’ve been able to slow down in time. What happened to you?”

“Oh, God. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I was stupid and left this morning without eating.” Lottie struggled to hold back the tears that stung her eyelids.

“Don’t cry. It turned out okay—just a few scratches on your car. You're okay and I’m okay and the dog doesn’t seem any the worse for it. Please don’t cry.” He reached out to comfort her.

“Oh yes, my Teddy. He knew something was wrong.” She stroked the dog’s head. Turning back she asked, “How can I ever thank you?”

“No thanks necessary-- I’d feel better if you’d just let me call your family or—”

“No, no, please. It would only upset them. I’m much better now–really.” Her head was beginning to clear. “Do you have a business card, Jake?”

“Yeah, I sure do.” He reached into his pocket and handed it to her. “Well, if you're sure you'll be all right.”

“I’m sure. I’m only fifteen minutes from my aunt and uncle's home.”

“Tell you what. Just to relieve my mind, call me on my cell when you get there. Number’s on the card, there’s my name.” He pointed to it. “And you’re Lottie Winslow, I saw your I.D.”

“Yes.” She smiled at the burly man who’d saved her life.

“I’ll call. Do you have a family, Jake?”

He beamed at her. “Matter of fact, our first one's due any minute, that's why I’m heading home.”

“I can see you with a little girl.” It was plain as day—a little pink bundle in the arms of a petite brunette.

“Oh, we don’t know what it is. Beth decided she’d rather wait and be surprised.”

“I see. Good luck and God bless you, Jake. Thank you again.”

“Don't thank me, lady, thank your guardian angel. You tested him good today.” He turned and ran toward his truck. 
        Lottie sat for a few seconds with her head bowed,

“Thank you,” she whispered. 
         When he didn't hear the engine start, Jake turned and saw Lottie's head down and started back toward the Suburban.
        Lottie glanced at her reflection in the rear-view mirror. Her face was pale. She pinched her cheeks and smoothed her hair away from her face. How long had she been delayed? Her aunt must be frantic. She turned on the ignition, and backed out of the brush. She waved to Jake as she pulled out. Only then did he run to his truck.

At Kinnelon Road she turned left; the Suburban negotiating the upgrade easily. Lottie turned in at the country mailbox and rolled to a stop in the circular drive in front of the gambrel-roofed colonial. She noticed Jake's business card on the seat and dialed his number.

“McKinnon.”

“It's me, Jake, Lottie. I’m here, safe and sound, thanks to you.”

“Thanks for calling. You take care now. Don’t skip any more meals.”

“I’ll take care. Good luck with the baby.” She clicked off making a mental note to send a baby gift—a little outfit maybe, but definitely pink.

Ã

The front of the house was brownstone, punctuated with twelve over eight-paned windows. A portico shaded the double door entry. Betty Le Breton hurried through the open door to greet her, arms outstretched. A small white Lhasa trotted behind her, its fluff of tail fanning the breeze.

“Lottie, honey, I’m so relieved to see you. I was worried, it’s over an hour since your call.”

Still slim at sixty-five, Betty looked younger than her years. She wore blue denim jeans and a white cotton shirt. A navy sweater hung around her shoulders, the sleeves tied together on her chest. Her blonde hair had faded and was streaked with grey. She wore it short and casual. It rippled in the morning breeze.

Betty put her arms around Lottie and held her close. “Are you all right, honey? You look a little peaked.” A worried frown creased her brow.

“I’m fine.” Lottie returned the embrace. “It’s good to be here. I am getting a little headache though.”

“What happened?” Betty pointed to the pink bruise on Lottie's forehead

Lottie reached up and felt a slight lump with her finger. “Oh, that—nothing to worry about. I bumped it this morning.”

The Lhasa greeted Teddy with aloofness, an act she usually put on for the big dog’s benefit. She turned and bounced along the path around to the back of the house. Teddy followed at a respectful distance.

Betty looked inside the Suburban. “Where’s Sassy?”

“Our neighbor offered to keep her until I get back. It was just easier. No fussing with carriers and a litter box.” She lifted her head and inhaled the heady fragrance of the budding spring flowers. “Gorgeous day,” she said as the two women walked arm in arm into the foyer. “It’s good to be alive.” Glancing into the empty study she asked,

“Where’s Uncle Alec?”

“In his greenhouse, where else? Sit down and tell me what you’ve been doing while I get the coffee.”

“Oh, you know—the usual.”

“You’ve lost a little weight,” Betty said as she poured the coffee into their cups. “Your face is thinner—it accentuates your high cheekbones. Very attractive.” Betty smiled. “Those beautiful green eyes. We always wondered where you got your coloring. Your father was dark, your mother blonde like me. Like I used to be, I should say.”

“Women pay big bucks to have a frosting like yours. I think you’re beautiful.” Lottie leaned her cheek against her aunt’s and squeezed her shoulder.

“Your daddy used to tease Connie about your red hair. Must have been the milkman, he’d say.”

“Did you like him?” she asked as she pulled out a chair and sat at the table.

“Who, your daddy?”

“Yes.”

“Of course—we both did. You couldn’t help but like him. He was smart, good-looking. Had a determined chin, like yours. A family trait, he said. He was very good to your mother—lord knows she wasn’t always easy. And he doted on you.” Betty poured the coffee in Lottie’s cup.

“It’s hard for me to remember—” Lottie grew pensive. “Were they happy? Together, I mean.”

“I suppose they were in their own way. She was the strong one and he just went along.”

“Not like you and Uncle Alec, huh?”

Betty laughed. “Your mother was younger than I, but she had definite ideas about things. Your father was very patient with her.” Betty looked into Lottie’s eyes. “You never mention them. Why now?”

“I just wondered. I think about them often. Especially lately.” Her voice gradually dropped to a whisper. Lottie’s mood had turned somber and she grew silent.

“Well— Are you still working in the clinic?”

“Not that often. They don’t need me that much now, but I manage to keep busy.” Lottie opened a packet of sweetener, dropped it into her cup and lifted the cup to her lips.

“It's not too much for you now, with all your other responsibilities?”

“Why would it be, Aunt Betty? I’m not an invalid.”

Betty overlooked the retort. “How’s Paul?”

“Fine. I don’t see him as much as I’d like, but that’s the lot of a doctor’s wife, I guess.”

She eyed the platter of Betty’s cinnamon walnut scones.

“Are you hungry?”

“Actually, I’m starved. I left in such a hurry, I skipped breakfast.”

“Oh, Lottie. You know better.”

I do. I forget sometimes I’m not the same as I used to be.” And that’s a fact.

“The scones are sugar-free and I made an omelet for you. I just hope it isn’t all dried out,” Betty said as she rose and went to the stove. “It’s been in the warming oven since just after you called.” Betty removed the small platter and placed it in front of Lottie watching as her niece wolfed it down.

Lottie took a scone from the platter, bit into it and began to relax.

“Now, tell me what you've been up to,” Betty said as she sat down.

“A little of this, a little of that. Our plans for the annual Sweetheart Ball are well underway. You and Uncle Alec came last year, remember?”

“I do. I imagine it holds a little more importance for you now.”

“It’s always been important to me—”She was interrupted by the dogs’ barking.

“Sounds like they want to come in.” The door opened as Betty walked toward it and the dogs burst in with Alec close behind them. Teddy went immediately to the water dish and guzzled it down.

“Hi, young lady, long time no see.” Alec’s face crinkled in a wide smile and Lottie rose to give him a hug.

“Putting on a little weight, are we?” She patted his stomach.

“It’s all muscle,” he said laughing, as he returned the hug.

Since she’d seen him last his thinning brown hair had turned decidedly more grey. He’d always seemed so tall to her, but now— She looked into his eyes and said, “I seem to have grown, I’m almost as tall as you are.”

“I think it’s more likely I’m being cut down to your size.” His smile couldn’t disguise the pain in his eyes. A stab of fear nagged at her unexpectedly. She held him a moment longer.

“How long are you staying?” He washed and dried his hands at the sink and accepted the mug of coffee Betty handed him, his gnarled hands spilling a little. Betty quickly wiped it away.

“Till Friday, if it's okay. Paul’s teaching at Columbia the rest of this week. He’s staying at the hospital rather than cope with the traffic.”

“So you decided to come out to Jersey to visit your aunt and uncle.” Alec patted her cheek with his free hand and smiled. “It’s very okay, “ he said as he took a scone from the platter and sat across from Lottie. He bit into it and murmured his approval to his wife. Looking over the mug of coffee, he appraised Lottie.

“There’s something different about you, honey.”

“I cut my hair—like it?”

“Not much you can do wrong with that beautiful hair, but that’s not it. Are you feeling okay—anything troubling you?”

She laughed. “You always could see through me.” This wasn’t the time to tell him about the dreams that tormented her—she didn’t want to upset him. “I’m fine, just busy, stuff on my mind—you know. Not to worry.”

“Lottie, you’ve always been my girl. You know that—you can tell me anything.”

“I know.”

“So—how many antique shops do you plan to hit this trip?”

“Oh, I don't know. What are your plans, Aunt Betty? Care to go exploring with me?”

“No, dear, not this time. My bridge club is meeting here tomorrow. Why don’t you put your things up in your room, then come and join me? I have some baking to do. You can help.” She rose from the table, removed the sweater from her shoulders and placed it on the back of the chair and tied a flowered apron around her waist.

“Okay.” Lottie carried her bag to the powder room. It was time to test her blood sugar. A necessary nuisance if she wanted to live a normal life. When she’d finished, she went upstairs, Teddy close on her heels.

The room was bright and cheery with the morning sun shining through the pristine ruffled curtains. It looked much the same as when she’d lived there. The bookcase still held her childhood books and high school yearbook. The ribbons she'd won for 4-H were pinned to a velvet-backed shadow box that hung on the wall. Several of her favorite dolls reclined affably among the pillows on the four-poster bed. Lottie smiled to herself.

She opened the dresser drawer, placed her nightie and personals inside and hung a fresh pair of jeans and a blouse in the closet. In her growing up years Betty had always stressed, “a place for everything and everything in its place.” For Lottie, doing it that way seemed natural. She started to leave.

It was no more than a whisper –

“Lottie”—She whirled around. No one had entered the room. Teddy whined softly, his hackles rising. Was it Teddy she’d heard? She placed her hand on the knob. There it was again.

“Lottie—” She heard Betty and Alec talking downstairs—there was no one else in the house. Was she imagining things? Teddy’s low growl made her skin crawl. She looked around the room and then she saw it—the hazy form of a woman in the mirror. It beckoned to her and whispered,

“Come home.” Lottie stumbled backward, shuddered and stifled a scream. Her heart fluttered against her chest like a caged wild bird—her skin erupting in goose bumps.

She covered her eyes with her hands.

“Go away!” Silence. She spread her fingers and peeked through, then snapped them closed again. Forcing herself to face her fear she dropped her hands and took another look into the mirror and saw only her frightened reflection.

“Judas Priest! That was weird. Must be the aftereffect of the low blood sugar. What else could it be?” She wound her fingers in Teddy’s collar. With him at her side, she started out, hesitated and stopped to take one more cautious look into the mirror. Satisfied that everything seemed normal, she put it out of her mind and closed the door.