Boomer's Bucket List Read online

  “Um, well,” she said. “I guess so.”

  “Here,” he said, motioning for her to bring her chair closer. “Let’s just take a closer look.”

  As Compton scrolled back to the top, Stacy had to admit that Boomer’s Bucket List was a great Web site, easy to navigate and interesting to look at. Once again, she was reminded of how lame her own effort would have been, something the men on either side of her understood as well as she did. As he handed her the mouse, she felt as if a rock had landed in her stomach. She stared at the screen.

  Three new pictures had been added since she’d come in that morning. Stacy pointed.

  “Where did those come from?”

  Jason leaned forward to get a better look.

  “My team must have just posted them. We curate all the submissions before they go up. Those look like they were taken yesterday.”

  “How can you tell?”

  He pointed. “The Blue Whale. It’s in Catoosa. They should be in Tulsa by now.”

  Compton nodded. “I suppose your followers clued you in to that.”

  Jason chuckled. “It’s like having a network of spies.”

  Stacy gritted her teeth. “Right, and you’ve turned them loose on Jennifer and Boomer.”

  “Whose fault is that? If you’d just given me the pictures like I asked, I wouldn’t have had to do it. You told me if I wanted more to get them myself.”

  She looked to Compton, hoping for support, and found him nonplussed.

  “Is that true?” he said.

  “I-I guess so. I’m not sure.”

  Stacy squinted, trying to remember exactly what she’d told Jason. Whatever it was, though, it had been in the heat of the moment. That didn’t really count, did it?

  “Well, if you did, then I’m afraid that changes things. You can hardly cry foul if Jason is just doing what you told him to.”

  She slumped in the chair, defeated. She never should have complained, Stacy told herself. Nothing was going to change.

  “But she’ll find out,” she said weakly. “And then she’ll be mad at me.”

  Compton gave Jason a sharp look. “How certain are you that we can keep Jennifer in the dark about all of this?”

  Jason looked abashed. “It’s hard to say. The contest rules say that they can’t be tipped off, but I guess it depends on how discreet the public is.”

  Stacy snorted. “No chance of that.”

  “Maybe not,” the boss said. “But it hasn’t happened yet. I say we wait and see how things play out. If we get lucky and no one tips her off, great. If not, I’ll tell Jennifer it was my call. That way, Jason and his team get to keep the changes they made and Stacy, you’re off the hook.”

  She nodded, feeling somewhat better if also a bit guilty. Having Compton take the blame wasn’t really fair, but it would ease her conscience, at least a little bit.

  “That’s settled, then,” he said. “Jason, I want you and your team to make sure that everyone knows what the ground rules are for this game of yours. Believe me, I’m no more eager to be on Jennifer’s bad side than Stacy is.”

  “Will do.”

  “And Stacy, let’s keep the lines of communication open. If you still don’t feel good about this in a couple of days, let me know and I’ll see what we can do to make it better.”

  Jason stood up and walked out without a backward glance, but Stacy hung back. There was still one problem nagging at her.

  “What about the stuff that people are leaving on Jennifer’s doorstep?” she said. “Even if I go there every day, things still pile up.”

  Compton frowned thoughtfully.

  “Tell you what,” he said. “Why don’t you go by her place before work and come in, say, an hour later? Or, if you’d rather, you could add an hour to your lunchtime and go pick up whatever’s been left there then?”

  She smiled. The thought of spending more time at Jennifer’s apartment was enticing.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course. And maybe leave a little early at the end of the day, too, so you can swing by Jennifer’s on your way home. I’ll get a temp in here to cover for you until she gets back.”

  Stacy’s eyes widened. With the extra time he was offering her, she could sit out on the balcony and have that glass of wine she’d been dreaming about and a cup of coffee in the morning, too! It would be almost like living there herself.

  “Thank you,” she said. “I’d like that.”

  CHAPTER 18

  “Okay, you win,” Nathan said. “It is hard to find places that accept dogs.”

  They were standing in the parking lot outside the Tulsa State Fair, their backs to the wind as they tried to decide what to do. Out on the main road, the line of cars waiting to park had backed up traffic for half a mile, and the crowd of expectant fairgoers heading for the front gate flowed around the three of them like water around a rock in a stream. If they weren’t going to be allowed inside, Jennifer thought, they should just get back in the truck and go.

  “Don’t feel bad. I knew they wouldn’t let us in.”

  Nathan shook his head, reluctant to admit defeat.

  “There has to be someplace,” he said. “I’m not giving up yet.”

  Having assured Jennifer that he could easily rescue her from the “boring” places she’d been taking Boomer, Nathan was discovering that most of the “fun” things out there didn’t allow dogs on the premises. It was all well and good to know that there were things both memorable and exciting to be found along Route 66, but if they couldn’t take her dog, she thought, what was the point? The urge to say, I told you so, was almost irresistible.

  Jennifer looked down at Boomer and smiled. He was leaning against Nathan’s leg again, panting happily as he looked from one of them to the other, apparently unfazed by this setback. While the two of them were knocking themselves out, trying to find things that he’d enjoy doing, he seemed perfectly happy just being there.

  “We don’t really have to ‘do’ a lot,” she said. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Oh, no.” Nathan shook his head. “I promised I’d come up with something and I will. You’ll see.”

  A young couple and their son walked by, the boy lingering when he caught sight of Boomer. After a brief consultation with his mother, he sidled closer.

  “Is your dog friendly?” he said.

  Jennifer nodded. “He’s very friendly. Would you like to pet him?”

  The boy looked anxiously back at his parents, who nodded their approval.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “All right.” She bent down and motioned him closer. “He likes to be petted on his back. Just put your hand here, by his collar…. Yes, like that. Then you can stroke his fur.”

  The child grinned as his hand passed over the silky coat.

  “He’s real soft,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

  Jennifer nodded proudly. “Yes, he is.”

  The boy gave another backward glance and nodded.

  “What’s his name?” he said.

  “Boomer.”

  His eyes lit up, and he turned toward his parents.

  “It’s Boomer!”

  Jennifer chuckled. Boomer might not be a common name for a dog, but it had never elicited a reaction quite like that one before. She looked over and saw the boy’s father putting his phone away. He and his wife shared a brief, anxious glance, then the man stepped forward and took his son’s hand.

  “Come on, Zach. It’s time to go.”

  As he tugged the boy away, the child was still marveling at the dog’s name. Jennifer stood up and looked at Nathan.

  “That was weird.”

  They started back toward the truck, Nathan staring straight ahead, his forehead creased in concentration. Jennifer could tell he was upset. He’d made a big deal about finding something fun for Boomer to do, and now they were right back at square one. She gave him a nudge with her shoulder.

  “Hey, don’t worry about it. We’re still o
nly halfway to the coast. We’re bound to find something sooner or later.”

  He nodded reluctantly.

  “Look, I know how you feel,” she said, “but it’s okay. It might even be a good thing that there isn’t a lot of exciting stuff to do out here. The vet said Boomer needed his rest.”

  Nathan smirked. “You just want me to admit you were right.”

  “Of course.”

  The sound of footsteps approaching caught her attention. Jennifer turned and saw a heavy-set woman hurrying toward them, her boots kicking up a cloud of dust. A plaid shirt of red, white, and blue restrained the woman’s ample bosom, and she had one hand firmly planted on her Stetson to keep it from flying away. The ribbon flapping on her chest said: Fair Official.

  “Hold on!” she gasped. “Don’t go!”

  Jennifer and Nathan exchanged a look. What was this all about?

  The woman came to a halt in front of them and put her hands on her knees, signaling for them to wait a moment while she caught her breath. When she straightened up a few seconds later, she was beaming.

  “You’re here for the dog show,” she panted. “I’m Darlene. The gate’s over yonder.”

  Jennifer was shaking her head, prepared to correct the woman’s mistake, when Nathan cut her off.

  “Thank you,” he said. “We weren’t sure which way to go.”

  Darlene turned and started toward the gate, motioning for them to follow. Jennifer grabbed Nathan’s arm and held him back, shaking her head.

  “This is a mistake,” she hissed. “If we go in there, we’ll all be thrown out.”

  “Why are you always worried about being thrown out? She invited us, didn’t she?”

  Boomer tugged at his leash, urging Jennifer forward; she was outnumbered, two to one. Nathan was right, she thought. Darlene had invited them. Still, that would be cold comfort when security showed up.

  “All right,” she said. “But just remember, I told you so.”

  The dog-show area was a hive of activity. Backstage, the day’s contestants were up on tables, tethered to grooming arms, while their owners readied them for the ring. Hair dryers hummed, scissors snipped, and trimmers buzzed coats into perfection. Behind the tables, a double row of cages held the dogs that were waiting their turn. A sad-looking beagle was howling a complaint, but the rest were either sleeping or waiting in silence. As the three of them walked past, Jennifer kept a firm grip on Boomer’s leash. No one had said anything, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched.

  Meanwhile, Darlene was in her element: giving directions, admiring dogs, and greeting owners as she led the way toward the show ring. Jennifer’s stomach churned; she could feel her armpits growing damp. It was like being in one of those dreams where you suddenly realize you’ve forgotten to put on your pants. How long would it be before someone noticed and started pointing?

  At the end of the row hung a pair of curtains that separated the backstage area from the arena. The sign overhead said: Show Dogs Only. Darlene pushed the curtains aside and stepped through, motioning for them to follow. Jennifer stopped and looked at Nathan.

  “Why does she want us to go out there? It says show dogs only.”

  “Beats me,” he said. “Maybe she’s got some VIP seats for us.”

  “Or maybe we’ll be publicly humiliated when Darlene finds out we’re not who she thinks we are.”

  “Will you cut it out?” he said, pushing her forward. “This wasn’t our idea. Let’s just keep going and see what happens.”

  She shook her head.

  “Come on,” Nathan whispered. “Do it for Boomer. Look how excited he is.”

  Jennifer grimaced. She had to admit it: Boomer did look like he was having a good time. If the point of this trip was to do things that he enjoyed, then maybe she should just go for it and forget about being embarrassed. Nathan was right; this hadn’t been their idea. If anyone was going to be in trouble, it was Darlene.

  She took a deep breath, loosened her grip on the leash, and let Boomer lead her through the curtains. As they stepped out into the spotlight, Jennifer saw Darlene waiting for them next to the judges’ table. A man approached them from the left and touched Nathan’s elbow.

  “You can come on over this way, sir. We have a front-row seat picked out just for you.”

  A strangled protest escaped Jennifer’s lips.

  “Wait a minute. Isn’t he coming with us?”

  “It’s okay,” Nathan said. “Go!”

  He gave her a thumbs-up sign and followed the man to his seat.

  As Jennifer and Boomer approached the judges’ table, Darlene picked up an official-looking name tag and pinned it on Jennifer’s shirt, then took a judge’s rosette and attached it to Boomer’s collar. The dog’s shoulder quivered under the red, white, and blue ribbons. Jennifer reached down and adjusted them so they didn’t tickle.

  “You two will be serving as alternate judges today,” Darlene said. “In case of a tie, you’ll cast the deciding votes.”

  Jennifer took a seat at the table and smiled bravely at the other judges. She had no idea what to look for in a show dog, and it was a relief when she noticed the clipboard in front of her. On it were several pages listing the dogs’ names, the qualities they’d be judged on, and a box next to each in which to write her score. She unclipped the pen at the top, feeling like an impostor, and consoled herself that at least they weren’t the only ones doing the judging.

  The first dog was led out. Jennifer glanced back, searching for Nathan, but with the house lights dimmed and the show ring spotlighted, it was impossible to pick out one individual face in the crowd. It was his fault they were in this mess, she thought. They should have made him do the judging.

  As out-of-place as Jennifer felt, though, Boomer seemed to be having a great time. Sitting by her side, watching the dog in the ring being put through its paces, he looked like a hunting dog waiting for a bird to fall. He might not know what was happening, she thought, but he knew it was important and he was giving it his full attention. The head judge—a thin-lipped man in a navy-blue blazer—leaned closer and gave her a condescending smile.

  “This is just the amateur round. Household pets, pretty low quality contestants,” he sniffed. “Awards are insignificant, but we do what we must. The real show is tonight.”

  Jennifer felt her jaw tighten. What a pompous ass. Those people backstage were working their hearts out, and if Boomer could take this job seriously, so could she. She snatched up her pen, clicked it firmly, and started marking boxes.

  There were three classes being judged that day: Sporting, Non-Sporting, and Award of Merit. The judges’ decisions for the first two were unanimous, and Jennifer was pleased to see that for the most part her own tally had agreed with theirs. Boomer, too, seemed to be in accord with the favorites; as the winners were announced, he thumped his tail in approval. When the time came to present the Award of Merit, however, the professional judges were deadlocked, their tallies a three-way tie. As all eyes turned toward her, Jennifer glanced at her tally sheet and squirmed. She, too, had scored all three dogs the same. How was she supposed to decide?

  Darlene walked over and asked the judges for their decision. When the other four shook their heads, she turned toward Jennifer.

  “All right, tiebreaker,” she said. “What’s the verdict?”

  Jennifer showed the woman her tally sheet.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I gave the same score they did.”

  The woman nodded.

  “Well,” she said. “In that case, I guess it’s up to Boomer.”

  Before Jennifer could stop her, Darlene had untied her dog’s leash from the table leg and was walking him out into the ring. Applause rose up from the crowd as Boomer stepped out into the spotlight.

  “Ladies and gentlemen.” Darlene’s voice reverberated in the open arena. “We have a three-way tie for the Award of Merit, and as you may know, the rules state that in case of a tie, an alternate judge
will be asked to cast the final vote. I’ve asked Boomer here to be the tie breaker.”

  The crowd oohed and aahed their approval as Boomer was led around the ring. Jennifer was in shock, a smile frozen on her face. This could not be happening. Who asked a dog to judge a dog show? Nevertheless, there was Boomer, trotting around the ring like he’d been judging contests all his life. As unnerving as it was, she couldn’t help feeling proud.

  The three finalists and their owners stood at attention as Boomer approached. He and Darlene paused briefly in front of each one, then turned and repeated their inspection before returning to the starting point. Titters of expectation rose up from the crowd as Boomer looked carefully from each of the dogs to its handler and back.

  “Take your time,” Darlene said, winking at the audience. “This is an important decision.”

  Boomer took a step and tugged Darlene forward.

  “Oops,” she said, grinning. “Looks like he’s gonna make another—Oh, hey boy. Where’re you going?”

  As Boomer led Darlene around behind the contestants, the head judge gasped and Jennifer smothered an embarrassed giggle. It was the ritual greeting, a dog’s version of an exchange of business cards, but under the circumstances it seemed wildly inappropriate. As Boomer approached the first dog from behind, the audience realized what was happening and their titters of expectation turned to peals of laughter. Darlene, too, had figured out what was going on and was miming embarrassment even as her snorts of laughter were broadcast over the PA system.

  Boomer, however, was taking his “inspection” very seriously. After giving each contestant’s backside a thorough sniff, he led Darlene around and sat down in front of the winner. Cheers went up from the stands, and the camera flashes looked like the Fourth of July. The head judge glared and Jennifer turned away, sinking lower in her seat, hoping to become invisible.

  Look on the bright side, she told herself. At least no one here knows who I am.

  CHAPTER 19

  They found a Mexican restaurant that night with a patio outside where Boomer could doze at their feet while they ate dinner. Jennifer sipped a margarita as Nathan described the dog show from his point of view, making what had felt like a minor disaster seem like something almost intentionally comical. She was grateful to him for helping her find the humor in the situation, especially since Boomer had had such a good time. By the time their food arrived, the pain of humiliation had faded to a dull ache.