Chapter
Mercy walked nervously to the Two Hearts Rescue mailbox. It was still early to expect results, but the fundraising envelopes she had distributed might just start coming back today. In two weeks working with Poppy, Mercy had been given more hours, better pay, and much more responsibility. Not much in the pay department, but a little bump didn’t hurt. Poppy’s husband Slade had mentioned the possibility of hiring her on a freelance basis to review some grants he was writing. It hadn’t happened yet, but any lead was good.
So much good had come from her too-brief relationship with her own personal Tarzan. Her Iron Chef. No, relationship wasn’t the right word. Friendship? That was better, but it had felt like more than that. She’d texted him a few days after he broke it off, and received an unsatisfying brief reply. A couple days later she asked if he wanted to go out with her Saturday night or if he was feeling really brave and wanted to go back to church the next day. He simply told her that he had to work. That was it.
Yeah, meeting him had made her life better in so many ways, but she wanted more. It looked like she wasn’t going to get it.
At least she still had her sobriety. And there was some hope in the mailbox.
Mercy drew in a cold breath. Steam filled the air as she let it out and clouded her view as she pulled the door of the mailbox open.
A stack of white envelopes waited for her. The one on top had the Two Hearts return logo that she had used in the fundraiser distribution materials. Quickly she thumbed through the stack but the rest of it was mail for Poppy. It was barely 48 hours since the fundraiser had started. They’d asked for small donations—between two and twenty dollars—and this one could be anywhere in that range. They needed to top $250 to cover the cost of putting it together. No, closer to $270 including what Mercy had been paid for those hours. Anything over that would be gravy and would be put to excellent use with the rabbits, dogs, cats, pot bellied pig, and yak that currently made up the Two Hearts roster, but Mercy was beginning to worry that she might have to send in anonymous donations to get them over that hump.
Mercy slunk back into the warm, animal-scented air.
“Well?” asked Poppy. Daria popped her head out from behind the computer.
Mercy held the stack of mail up. “We got one.” Even this early that was a little embarrassing.
“How much?” asked Poppy.
“I don’t know,” said Mercy.
“It’s a start,” said Poppy. Mercy could read the concern on Poppy’s face. She’d been reluctant to spend the money on an unproven fundraising method.
“Keep your head up, kiddo,” said Daria. “Check this out.” She turned the screen so Mercy could see it. “The Amazon Smile donations are starting to come in already.”
That had been the first fundraising idea of Mercy’s and had been going for about a week. The account balance showed a total of $52.41. It wasn’t going to pay for the addition to the shelter, but for an hour’s worth of work to sign up for the Smile program and another hour to send out an email to the Two Hearts mailing list, the return on investment had the potential to be phenomenal.
Who was she kidding? Phenomenal was the wrong word. Two hundred bucks a month was piddly for an operation this size. It didn’t even cover Mercy’s salary once you factored in payroll taxes.
“You’re a genius,” said Poppy. “Who knew signing up and spreading the word could bring in free money like that?”
Daria said, “The girl knows the game. Time for a raise.”
“I’ve already given her two raises,” said Poppy. “She’ll be making more than either of us if I keep throwing more money at her every week.”
“I wouldn’t mind,” said Mercy. It was nice of them to gush, but fifty bucks and one micro-donation would never get her near what she needed to be making. “I mean, you’re a great vet, but non-profit work is what I’ve been living, eating, and sleeping since I got sober.” She wouldn’t complain about eleven bucks an hour, but she’d gotten serious about casting her net wider and results had started to come in at more than twice the pay and double the hours with great benefits on top of that. The offer from Water for the World was the most promising. That was in Seattle. It appeared her chosen field of employment was too narrow to expect to stay close to home.
“No raise today,” said Poppy, trying to suppress a grin, “but I do have a reward for you.”
“Let me guess,” said Mercy. “I still get to clean the dog cages.”
“You got it! The volunteers will be here any minute to exercise the pooches so you can get in there.”
“I’ll get my shovel and hose ready,” said Mercy. She handed over the mail. As anxious as she was to find out the donation amount in the envelope, she also didn’t want to seem too important to do the main job she’d been hired for.
“Hey,” said Poppy before Mercy reached the door. “Daria might be nervous about you taking her job and her raises, but I’m glad you’re here.”
Daria chuckled and said, “Daria’s ready for you to add accounting and payroll to your fundraising duties. Heaven forbid I actually spend my time care-taking animals like I was trained for.”
Mercy laughed along and backed through the swinging door. Shadow, a black lab mix, barked at her, but when Mercy came up to the cage, he changed his tune and ran up to the gate to lick her finger.
“Why can’t I get the guy I like to be half as interested as you?” she muttered to Shadow. A hundred times a day thoughts of her Iron Chef intruded in her life, and he still baffled her.
It wasn’t that she had delusions of being the most desirable woman in the world or anything like that. But there had been a connection. And he’d done so much on her car and transformed into a gentleman overnight and made comments that Mercy was sure meant he was interested. Then he’d proceeded to make one brief romantic move and let her push him away. The chance to explain it all to him had never come up, and now that they were estranged, she couldn’t do it.
After the incident at church, Mercy had bared her soul, and it had made him even more of a stay-away guy. It was hard to be rejected like that. Back when she’d been deep in her addiction, pretty much any hot-blooded human she offered herself to would accept her. Sure, they’d used her and discarded her, but everyone got what they wanted at the time. Through all that she couldn’t remember ever being so thoroughly rejected by a guy who seemed interested in the slightest.
I have plenty of friends. What a stupid thing to say.
Maybe it was a good thing that they hadn’t gotten serious. More and more it was looking like Mercy would end up far away, and a guy back home would just make the transition to the next phase of her life harder. Going through recovery herself and seeing dozens of others fail or succeed at it had shown her that the last thing any of them needed was a harder life.
The family get-together was a couple days away. By then Mercy would know for sure if Seattle was her future. More and more it felt like the gathering would be her chance to say farewell to everyone. Mercy had plenty of friends in the Jewell family. Who needed a guy?
Justice wasn’t back on that list of friends yet. They’d seen each other from across the nave once, but Mercy had moved past allowing someone else to permit her to worship, and so she barely made eye contact.
Yet another thing her Iron Chef had taught her. She was starting to figure out that he would forever be the one who got away.