Twenty Wishes

“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 silk years.



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.”



“It’ll help her self-esteem if she excels in singing.” Anne Marie didn’t say that she used to sing, too. Or that she hadn’t sung in months…



“Oh, I agree, this opportunity is wonderful for Ellen,” Ms. Mayer said. “She’s the only second-grader in the chorus.”



“That’s terrific.” There was no personal reason for Anne Marie to feel proud of Ellen, but she did.



“Her grandmother won’t be able to attend.”



Despite herself, Anne Marie grinned. “Her Grandma Dolores is really old, you know. She’s at least fifty.”



The school counselor smiled, too. “It would mean the world to Ellen if you could come for the program.”



“Me?” She thought about her Tuesday schedule. She had meetings with a publisher’s rep, plus an appointment with her bookkeeper. As much as possible, Anne Marie tried to handle all her paperwork on Tuesdays.



“Ellen won’t have anyone there if you don’t come,” the counselor continued. “If there’s any chance at all…”



Anne Marie swallowed a sigh. “What time is the program?” she asked.



“Tuesday afternoon at two.”



She’d been afraid of that. “I have an important meeting then. I’m sorry, but I can’t make it.”



Ms. Mayer didn’t hide her disappointment. “Are you sure you can’t? It would mean so much to Ellen.”



Anne Marie hesitated as she tried to work out how to rearrange her schedule. Perhaps she could ask Theresa to meet with the sales rep, who was coming in at two.



“I know you’re busy….”



“Everyone’s busy,” Anne Marie said. Her life was no different from anyone else’s. She wondered if Ms. Mayer championed the other children as diligently as she did Ellen. “I’ll see if I can get one of my employees to cover for me. Exactly how long will this take?”



Ms. Mayer smiled broadly. “An hour at the most. And after the program, the children will be serving cookies and juice.”



“I’ll see what I can do,” Anne Marie promised.



“That would be wonderful.” She clasped her hands together. “Thank you so much.” Glancing over her shoulder, she said, “I have to get back to the school now, but thank you again.”



Anne Marie opened her car door and placed Baxter inside. This volunteering was demanding more time and commitment than she’d originally assumed. The problem was, she couldn’t say no.



When she returned to Blossom Street, she brought Baxter up to the apartment, then hurried into the bookstore to see Theresa. The part-time position suited Theresa well, since she had three children, one in high school and the youngest two attending junior high.



“How’s it going?” Anne Marie asked.



“Fine.” Theresa smiled. “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”



Anne Marie tried to stay as far away from the business as she could on Wednesdays. The moment she made herself available, she invariably ended up spending half her day in the store. “I’m only here for a few minutes,” she said, vowing that would be the truth.



“Ms. Higgins was looking for you,” Theresa told her. “She forgot this was your day off.”



“Were you able to help her?”



“Oh, she wasn’t interested in buying anything. She wanted to talk to you.”



Anne Marie would give Lillie a call later on. She hoped the situation with her car had been settled.



“There was a phone call for you, too. A man at one of the distributors. He asked if you’d call him back at your convenience. I wrote down all the information.”



“I’ll take care of that in the morning,” Anne Marie said. She lingered, procrastinating because she hated to ask her employees to fill in for her. “Theresa, I was wondering if you could work next Tuesday afternoon.”



“Next Tuesday?” Looking pensive, Theresa bit her bottom lip. “I think so. Can I get back to you to confirm?”



“Of course. The thing is, I’m a Lunch Buddy for this little girl named Ellen and…well, she’s going to be in a school production and the counselor seemed to think it would help if I could be there.” She didn’t know why she was rattling on about this when it really wasn’t Theresa’s problem.



“I’m sure it’ll be fine but I’ll need to check with Jeff first.”



“Thanks, and if it doesn’t work out, don’t worry. I’ll try Cathy or Steve.”