Page 25 of 12 Days of Mistletoe

So, we play, with Noel sitting at Bonnie’s feet the entire game.

And guess what?

Bill cheats.

THIRTEEN

bonnie

Bill gives me a hug goodbye.“You didn’t talk about Canine Compassion once. No news? Or is it because of him?”

“No, just no time,” I moan. Plenty of news—I’ll have to share about Abby later.

Bill was having so much fun giving Elliot a hard time that my favorite, obsessive topic of conversation never came up. And maybe that’s for the best. I’ve talked Bill’s ear off so much about the nonprofit that now he wants to donate.

He lives on his own still—though he comes to the center for meals. But I know he isn’t rolling in the dough. He’s got doctor bills and grandkids who live out of state. If he’s going to visit them, he can’t be giving money to me. And I never meant for him to feel the need to invest.

Are we looking for investors at my nonprofit? Um, yeah.Duh. Of course we are. But not my elderly friend who scrapes by on his social security checks every month.

“Next time,” I tell him. “I’ll give you all the updates.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Bill waves one hand toward Elliot. “See ya, one-thirty.”

One-thirty—Elliot’s pretty terrible Scrabble score. Which is surprising considering all those books in his house. Bill will call Elliot that until the end of time. Plus every single one of Bill’s Scrabble words held accusations. He spelled outgirl, thenfriend, then added anexto the front. He also hoards letters in his lap, which is why he regularly scores above four hundred.

Elliot’s brows bounce once. “Yeah. Nice to meet you, Bill.” His words aren’t completely believable and I don’t blame him. Bill did not go easy on Elliot. Which, to be honest, I greatly enjoyed.

Back inside my Chevy, with Elliot beside me and my best girl behind me, I sigh. What a surprisingly fun afternoon.

“What’s Canine Compassion?” Elliot asks.

My pulse thrums. I love this organization. It’s why I have three jobs. It’s why I have Noel. I will share it with the world. So, the fact that I feel awkward sharing it with Elliot just now is odd. And probably telling of our doomed fake relationship. Except that mine and Elliot’s relationship is full of odd. So, why not feel odd in this too?

I don’t hate the guy. I don’t even completely dislike him. He put up nicely with all of Bill’s antics. And he’d been defending his grandmother. He’s been doing what he thought he needed to to buy the building. It’s a grand goal—something I understand.

I’ve been rooting for Abby Jones and her service animal for a year now. With so many kiddos ahead of her in line, she’s been put on the back burner. But I know anxiety—unfortunately, we are well acquainted. Something Abby andI have in common. I also have every confidence that this dog will change her life.

Last week Sarah told me that it would most likely be another two years before we could start the process on Abby’s dog. Two years. Two years means she wouldn’t have the dog for three. At the least. It takes a good year, sometimes two, to train a service animal. Which means Abby wouldn’t be fit with her animal for at least three years. Sarah says that’s not bad. We have older teens who are just now getting their service animals. Abby’s only ten. She’ll have it by thirteen, maybe fourteen, and that’s ahead of the game.

Except—I was Abby. And she needs her pup now.Now. Not in three years. But now.

The thought motivates me. If an investor wants to purchase a dog for a specific person, we won’t stop that train from moving. It happened once before. The investor bought a dog for a boy he went to church with, a boy with lupus. We were able to start the training process right away. So if an anonymous donor wants to buy and pay for an animal, as well as the training of a dog for Abby, nobody will argue.

My heart patters with the thought of that little girl with her dog. “Which way to your gran’s house?”

Elliot chuckles. “You’re just going to avoid the question, then? I don’t get to know what Canine Compassion is?”

“I’m just asking which way to turn.” We sit at the exit in the senior center. “Do I go left or right, Eaton?”

“Left. She’s on Larkspur.”

Whoa. May Elliot is living the good life.

“She and my grandpa raised most of their kids on Arcadia Drive, but then they built this place. It’s bigger thanshe needs. She may live alone, but she loves to hold family events. As her family has grown, she wants a place for them to stay or gather when we’re all together.”

“She loves her family, eh?”

“Nothing is more important to Gran than family. My family lives in town, but my uncle and his kids are back East. When they come to visit, Gran always has space for them.”

---