Debbie Macomber - Blossom Street Bundle

When she’d assembled their lunch, several of the children had gathered around Ellen, asking questions about Baxter.

“I have to go now,” the child told the others, and Anne Marie grinned at the importance in her voice. Ellen dutifully followed her down the hall toward the classroom, carrying Baxter as though he was the most precious burden imaginable.

The door was open and Ellen led the way to her desk. Anne Marie set the tray down and pulled up a chair next to Ellen’s.

“What about Baxter?” Ellen asked, carefully putting him down. “We can’t eat in front of him, can we? That would be impolite.”

“Yes, it would,” Anne Marie agreed. She’d brought along a small can of gourmet dog food, which was a rare treat for him. As she retrieved it from her purse, Baxter practically did flips of joy.

Ellen giggled, covered her mouth with her hand, then giggled again. “He’s so funny.”

“Yes, he is,” Anne Marie said, smiling, too.

Ellen seemed far more interested in Baxter than in eating her own lunch. She watched Baxter wolf down his food before she turned to her own plate. “One time my mama said she’d buy me a dog.”

Knowing the girl lived with her grandmother, Anne Marie wasn’t sure how to comment.

“What kind of dog do you want?”

Ellen looked up from her chili. “Any kind. But Mama made lots of promises she never kept. I live with my Grandma Dolores now.”

“Does she have a dog?”

Ellen shook her head. “She said she’s too old to take care of a dog.”

“How old is she?” Anne Marie asked.

Ellen contemplated the question. “Really, really old. I think she’s over fifty.”

Anne Marie managed to suppress a smile. “ That old ,” she said, exaggerating the two words. Her guess was that the woman was actually quite a bit older.

“She sleeps a lot.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t mind. She lets me watch TV as long as I do my homework.”

“She loves you very much, doesn’t she?”

Ellen swallowed a bite of her corn bread. “And I love her,” she mumbled.

“I’m sure you do.”

“Only…only Grandma’s too old to get me a dog.”

“I’ll be happy to share Baxter if you’d like,” Anne Marie offered.

Ellen’s eyes lit with pure joy. “You promise?”

“We’re Lunch Buddies, aren’t we?”

Ellen nodded enthusiastically. She took another spoonful of her chili and paused long enough to pet Baxter.

“We should probably take him for a walk once you finish your lunch.” Anne Marie had brought a plastic bag in case nature called while Baxter was outside.

“I’m full,” Ellen said decisively, planting both hands on her stomach.

“Positive?”

“Yup. Can we go now?”

They brought their trays back to the cafeteria and Anne Marie carried them inside, remembering how Ellen had instructed her the week before. When she’d put them away, the two of them walked outside.

Typical for early March in the Pacific Northwest, a fine mist was falling. Most of the children ignored the rain, as did Ellen and Anne Marie. They strolled through the yard, making for a small grassy area nearby, and Anne Marie let Ellen take the leash. A dozen kids trailed behind as if she were the Pied Piper. They would’ve followed Ellen and Baxter out of the yard if the recess monitor hadn’t intervened.

As usual, Baxter sniffed every inch of territory as he trotted toward the gate. “How’s school?” Anne Marie asked, walking side-by-side with the eight-year-old. She hoped to become better acquainted with Ellen, although it seemed she had to drag every morsel of information from the child. Thus far, all she knew was that Ellen liked dogs and lived with her grandmother, who was over fifty and therefore “really old.”

“Good.”

That wasn’t a lot of help. “Do you have any problems with math?”

“Nope. Grandma Dolores says I’m smart.”

“I’ll bet you are.”

Ellen seemed to have nothing else to say. She concentrated on the dog, praising him and periodically bending down to stroke his silky ears.

Anne Marie had hoped for more progress today. She’d seen some, thanks solely to Baxter, but now that she’d made a commitment to the program and to Ellen, she was eager for the next breakthrough.

“Does he know any tricks?” Ellen asked.

“Baxter? He can sit on command.”

Ellen seemed pleased. She stopped walking. “Sit,” she said sternly.

Her Yorkie immediately complied, and Ellen beamed. “He’s smart, too.”

“Yes, he is. He doesn’t know how to roll over, though. I’ve tried, but I can’t make him understand what I want him to do.”

“I’ll get a book from the library and teach him,” Ellen instantly volunteered. “Can you bring him next Wednesday?”

Anne Marie had discussed the situation with Ms. Mayer. The point of the Lunch Buddy program was for Ellen and Anne Marie to become friends. Helen Mayer’s concern was that Ellen would bond with Baxter and not Anne Marie. She’d suggested the dog only visit once a month.

“I’m afraid Baxter won’t be able to come next week,” Anne Marie explained. “But I’ll bring him again soon.”

The light seemed to go out of Ellen’s eyes and she docilely accepted the news. “I like Baxter,” she said a few minutes later.

“I can tell, and he certainly likes you.”

Her returning smile was fragile, as if she’d long ago learned to accept disappointments.

What little conversation they exchanged after that was focused on Baxter. When the lunch bell rang, Ellen lingered on the playground.

“I’ll see you next week,” Anne Marie promised.

Ellen lowered her eyes and nodded.

Ellen was obviously accustomed to adults making promises they didn’t or couldn’t keep. Anne Marie wanted to reassure the youngster that if she said she’d be at the school, she would be, but actions spoke much louder than words. She hoped that over time Ellen would come to trust her.

“Can I hug Baxter goodbye?” she asked.

“Of course.”

Crouching, Ellen petted the dog, then picked him up and gently gave him a hug. “Thank you for bringing him.”

“You’re welcome, Ellen.”

With that, the girl raced toward the school building. She was the last one to enter and Anne Marie hoped she wouldn’t be late for class.

“Well, Baxter,” she murmured to her pet, “you were a real hit.” As she hurried toward the parking lot, Helen Mayer stepped out of the school, walking purposefully in Anne Marie’s direction.

“How’d it go with Ellen this week?” she asked, quickly catching up. She wore only a sweater and shivered as she wrapped her arms around her waist.

“Okay, I think,” Anne Marie said. “Thanks mostly to Baxter.”

“I thought that might be the case.”

“She wanted me to bring him next week, but I told her he couldn’t come and it would only be me.”

“That little girl’s been through a great deal,” Ms. Mayer said, lowering her voice. “As I explained earlier, the privacy laws prohibit me from saying any more, but rest assured that Ellen badly needs a friend.”

Anne Marie immediately felt guilty for wishing she’d found another volunteer effort. But she’d made a four-month commitment and she planned to see it through. She had no intention of being another adult in Ellen’s life who broke her promises.

The school counselor walked her to the parking lot. “Next Tuesday afternoon, the school’s putting on a play.”

Anne Marie nodded.

“Ellen has a small role in it.”

“Ellen?”

“She’s in the chorus.”

“How nice. She didn’t mention it.”

Ms. Mayer didn’t seem surprised. “She wouldn’t. She’s such a shy child. She’s gifted vocally, you know.”