Chasing Stanley

by Martin, Deirdre

  “Absolutely. The Death card means an overturning of the old life, of rebirth. It means regeneration. Change. Transformation. Shuffle one more time and think of Jason.”

  Delilah gasped. “How did you know—?”

  Gemma smiled enigmatically. Shaken, Delilah did as she was told. The card she turned up showed three chalices. Gemma grinned.

  “Three of Cups. It symbolizes emotional growth, love, fulfillment in marriage or a relationship. That sounds good!”

  “It does,” Delilah agreed uneasily.

  Gemma gathered up her cards and returned them to their velvet pouch. “These things aren’t carved in stone, nor will the universe just hand them to you. You have to play an active role in your own destiny.”

  “How do I do that?”

  Gemma’s gaze was unnervingly direct. “Stop being so afraid.”

  “ P lease don’t let her kick my ass, please don’t let her kick my ass, please don’t let her kick my ass . . .”

  Jason knew his chant was in vain as he and Stanley hustled toward Central Park for their next obedience lesson with Delilah. They were supposed to have practiced the “down stay” command, the next logical step after the “sit stay.” But Jason had been so depressed by not dressing for Chicago, everything else had flown out the window. He spent every spare minute he had preparing mentally and physically for the next game so he would be at his peak. It wasn’t until he checked his schedule this morning that he realized he had another lesson with Delilah and had done nothing to prepare for it.

  His trepidation abated somewhat as he caught sight of her waiting at their usual bench. She was oblivious to his approach, oblivious to how sweet she looked sitting there all on her own, watching a ponytailed dog owner play Frisbee with his dappled mutt.

  “Hey.” Jason couldn’t resist breaking into a big smile as he finally came to where Delilah was sitting and told Stanley to sit and stay. He wondered if he should bring up the last time they met, when he’d asked her for coffee and she’d squirmed, despite obviously enjoying their brief kiss. Maybe it was better to let it go for now.

  “Hi.”

  Jason loved the way Delilah’s face lit up when she saw Stanley. She always leaned over to give him a big kiss. How sad was it that he envied his own dog?

  “So, how’s it been going?” Jason asked. He wanted to keep her talking. The less time they spent on an actual lesson, the better for him.

  “Pretty good,” Delilah answered. “You?”

  “Okay.” He sat down on the bench next to her. “How was your tarot card reading?”

  “Oh.” She seemed surprised to be asked. “It was all right.”

  “Learn anything interesting?”

  “A few things,” Delilah answered evasively.

  “Like?”

  Delilah squinted into the middle distance. “I have to stop being afraid of things.”

  “Mmm.” Jason took this as a good sign. Maybe she’d simply smile and say “Yes” the next time he asked her out.

  Delilah stood up, seemingly eager to get things rolling. “Time to show me how you boys have been faring with the ‘down stay.’ ”

  “Of course.” Jason rose. He could will Stanley to do this, even though they hadn’t practiced. He knew he could. He looked deeply into Stanley’s eyes. “Stan, down.” Stanley stretched out on all fours. “Stan, stay.” Stanley didn’t move as Jason detached his leash from his collar.

  “There you go,” Jason said to Delilah. Damn, he and Stan were good.

  “Now walk away with me,” Delilah said.

  Jason’s face fell. “What?”

  “The whole point of the command is that he stays down until you command him otherwise.” Delilah put a hand on her hip. “You did practice this with him, right?”

  “Yeah, of course,” Jason scoffed. Once again he stared deeply into Stanley’s eyes in his new role as canine hypnotist. Don’t move a muscle, pal, please.

  Together with Delilah, he slowly started walking away. Though his back was to him, he could hear Stanley scrambling to his feet. Next thing he knew Stanley was trotting beside him.

  Delilah stopped. “Stan, sit.” Stan sat. “Good boy.” She fed him a treat while regarding Jason with suspicion. “You said you practiced this with him.”

  “I did. He must just be excited to see you or something.”

  “Then let’s try it again.”

  Shit, thought Jason.

  “Stan, down.” Delilah’s voice was firm but loving. Stan obeyed. “Stan, stay.” Taking Jason’s elbow, Delilah began steering him away. They’d only managed a few steps before Stanley joined them, thrusting his head between Jason’s legs.

  “I guess he’s not in the mood to be alone,” Jason said lamely, scratching Stan’s back.

  “And I’m not in the mood to have my time wasted.”

  “I’m sorry.” Jason scanned Delilah’s face. She looked more annoyed than flat-out angry. He decided to come clean. “I meant to practice with him this week, but time got away from me. It won’t happen again.”

  “We can work on the ‘down stay’ today,” Delilah said briskly. “I was hoping we could really challenge him by walking completely out of his line of sight, but he’s not—”

  Stanley was off. A scurrying squirrel had made the tactical error of directly crossing Stanley’s path, and now he was running faster than Jason had ever seen him move in his life.

  “Stanley!” Jason yelled after him. “Halt!” Stanley kept running. “Oh, shit. Excuse me a minute.”

  Leash in hand, Jason chased after Stanley, Delilah speeding right after him. He gained on Stanley easily, grabbing him by the collar. The squirrel disappeared up a tree and out of sight. That didn’t stop Stan from straining so hard he was close to breaking Jason’s fingers as he held tight to Stan’s harness. While restraining him, Jason was reminded of what a powerful dog Stanley could be. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Delilah standing by anxiously. No way could she have restrained Stan when he had this kind of adrenaline pumping through him.

  Jason fastened the leash to the collar and jerked it. “Stan, sit.” Stanley continued trying to pull toward the base of the tree. Jason jerked harder. “Sit.” Reluctantly, Stanley listened. Jason heaved a sigh of relief and waited for Delilah to tell him how he was the worst dog owner on the face of the earth.

  Instead he got, “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. A little shaken up.”

  Delilah crouched before Stanley. “You’re the Devil in disguise, mister.” Her expression was serious as she looked up at Jason. “Now do you understand why absolute mastery of the ‘down stay’ is so important?”

  Jason was dubious. “C’mon. Tell me that even the best-trained dog won’t go nuts if a squirrel teases him.”

  “Squirrels don’t tease.”

  “Sure they do. That guy who ran in front of Stan? Total tease.”

  Jason could see that Delilah wanted to smile. She didn’t give in, though. “The better trained the dog is, the less likely it is to happen.”

  “Stan’s doing pretty well in general, though, right? I mean, he’s not retarded in dog terms or anything.”

  “Retarded in dog terms?”

  “Slow learner,” Jason clarified. “That’s what I meant.”

  “No, he’s not slow. You, on the other hand . . .” Delilah shook her head good-naturedly.

  Jason smiled. “That’s why I need you to teach me, Miss Gould.”

  Delilah’s face turned beet red, and she looked away. Shit. Had he pushed it? How could he have? She was the one who started it. Hadn’t she just flirted with him?

  He put his hand on her shoulder. “Did I just embarrass you? Because if I did, I’m sorry.”

  Delilah looked up at him. “Life embarrasses me,” she confessed.

  Jason smiled. “You’re making progress.”

  “Progress to what? From where?”

  “From insanely shy to totally shy. By my reckoning, you should reach ‘not shy at all’
right around the time you’re ready to collect Social Security.”

  “That’s pretty far away.”

  “I was thinking in dog years.”

  Delilah laughed. Jason was thrilled he’d been able to salvage the moment. “About Stan the Man here,” he continued, stroking Stan’s back. “You can still board him tomorrow, right? Even though he’s a total failure at the ‘down stay’?” Tomorrow the Blades left for their first road trip of the season. Jason would be away three nights.

  “No problem,” Delilah assured him. “He’s basically trained. You just need to tell me what time you plan to bring him by.”

  Jason grimaced. “See, here’s the thing. We’re leaving really early in the morning. Is there any chance you could swing by and get him? You’ve already got the keys to my place. I’d pay extra.”

  “As long as you leave me a list of instructions about feeding him as well as enough food for him, that should be fine. And yes, it will cost you extra.”

  Jason leaned in close. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes. You know that.”

  “Yes, I do,” Delilah murmured. She was blushing, but she hadn’t turned away. Jason leaned in closer and gently skimmed his lips over Delilah’s before taking a chance and kissing her more fully. He could feel her trembling as he took her into his arms, anchoring her to him. See? Nothing to be afraid of. Slowly but surely, she was learning to trust. He need only be patient.

  Breaking their embrace, Jason smiled. Perhaps Operation Coffee would commence sooner than expected.

  CHAPTER 07

  “He’s quite the Casanova.”

  Delilah could tell Marcus was genuinely impressed as they entered Jason’s apartment, and her favorite big black furry friend rose to cover her with kisses. Normally she would have swung by on her own to pick up Stan, but considering Stanley’s size and the fact she had no idea how much food she might also be lugging, she decided to bring Marcus along. He was coming back to her place anyway, so they could watch The Turning Point together.

  Delilah skimmed the note Jason had left her. Stanley’s food regimen was straightforward: two cups of water-soaked kibble twice a day, followed by five small biscuits after each meal. Ten biscuits a day! Delilah made a mental note to talk to Jason about that.

  “Why can’t I get any of the men I want to do this?” Marcus sighed.

  Delilah glanced up from Jason’s instructions to see Stanley’s head stuck between Marcus’s legs.

  Marcus abruptly held up a hand. “Hold on: message coming through from Stanley.”

  Delilah tried to hide her skepticism as Marcus disentangled himself from Stanley and knelt in front of him. “Okay. He says his dogdruff isn’t being caused by the change in the weather. He’s allergic to the new dog food Jason switched him to.”

  The hair stood up on the back of Delilah’s neck. She hadn’t voiced her thoughts about Stan’s dogdruff aloud. Maybe there was something to this animal telepathy thing after all.

  “What’s that, Stan?” Marcus closed his eyes and put his ear to Stanley’s muzzle. “Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Knew it.” His expression was smug as he opened his eyes and looked Delilah. “He says Jason likes you. A lot.”

  “You’re making that up.”

  “I most certainly am not. And Stanley is offended you would even think that.” Marcus sprang to his feet, rubbing his hands together excitedly. “Let’s go check out his bedroom!”

  “Marcus!”

  “Don’t you want to see how big it is? His bed, I mean.”

  “No!” Marcus looked crestfallen. “It’s an invasion of privacy.” Delilah peered at her friend worriedly. “Please don’t tell me you go poking around people’s apartments when you’re working for me.”

  “Of course not!” Marcus bit his lip. “Well, maybe a few.”

  Delilah’s mouth fell open. “Marcus!”

  “You know that button-down guy on Seventy-eighth with the springer spaniel named Kingsley?” Delilah nodded fearfully. “Well, one time I brought Kingsley back to the apartment, and while I was there someone left a message on the machine saying, ‘Hello, Leather Daddy, this is Dungeon Monkey. I’m looking forward to playing Twister at six.’ So naturally I had to poke around.”

  “No, you didn’t, but continue.” Now that Marcus had started his story, Delilah felt she had an obligation to hear it through. It was only polite.

  “I sniffed around the living room—not the bedroom”— he added pointedly—“and you will not believe what I found in the broom closet.”

  “A broom?”

  “A black leather mask, a cat-o’-nine tails, and a Twister board bearing no resemblance to any I’d ever seen.”

  “That’s nice.” Delilah pushed back the hair from her forehead. “Marcus? Please don’t ever do that again! I could lose my business if someone ever found out!”

  Marcus looked disappointed. “I guess that means I can’t go into Halti Boy’s bedroom and report any unusual findings back to you.”

  “You better not,” Delilah warned.

  “You’re no fun anymore. Can I at least go into his kitchen for a drink of water?”

  “Of course. Can you grab the dog food while you’re in there?”

  “No problem.” Marcus disappeared into the kitchen. “Oh, Lilah,” he sang out. “I think you better get in here. Now.”

  Bracing herself for the sight of poop-christened Pergo, she joined Marcus. Sitting on Jason’s kitchen table was a small coffee press, a bag of hazelnut coffee, and two New York Blades mugs. Propped up against one of the mugs was an envelope addressed to her. But before Delilah even had a chance to reach for it, Marcus snatched it up.

  “Let’s see what he has to say.”

  “Excuse me!” Delilah snatched the envelope back. “That’s addressed to me.”

  Marcus’s nostrils flared. “Yes, but I came upon the booty first, so you’re obligated to share with me whatever the note says.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since I’m the one helping you schlep all this dog food back to your place.”

  “Fine,” Delilah muttered. She steadied herself as she opened the envelope. Inside was a note written on a piece of loose-leaf paper that said, “Sorry about yesterday’s lesson, but I did enjoy the kissing part. Just try getting out of coffee with me now! Thanks for taking such good care of Stan. Jason.” Delilah folded the letter back into the envelope and held it to her chest, smiling.

  “Well?” Marcus asked impatiently.

  “He wants to have coffee with me when he gets back,” Delilah whispered. She was amazed he’d gone through the effort to buy the mugs, the coffee, the press. Obviously he’d meant it when he’d said he was willing to do “whatever it takes.”

  “If you tell me you need to think about this, I’m going to slap you senseless,” Marcus threatened.

  “No, I’ll have coffee with him. I guess. I mean how could I not? I want to. Plus, I’d look like a total bitch if I turned him down because he went through all this effort to buy this stuff. It’s just coffee, right? I mean—”

  Marcus’s hand flew to cover her mouth. “He likes you. You like him. You’re having coffee with him. The end.” He removed his hand. “Dogs don’t lie, girl.”

  For once, Delilah couldn’t argue.

  All right, big boy. Time to show the old man you’ve got the goods. The minute Jason hit the ice for his first shift against San Diego, the angry voice in his head took over. But rather than let his rage fester, he decided to use it out on the ice. Did Eric really think he could fuck him up? Did Ty really think the Blades could win without him? Then watch this.

  The buzzer sounded, and Thad Meyers won the face-off, dumping the puck deep into San Diego’s zone. Jason flew in after it. Dig, you stupid bastard, dig! he exhorted himself as he scrambled to free the puck from the corner. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Marty Cuff, one of San Diego’s chippiest defensemen, barreling toward him. Crush the fucker, but keep your elbows down! Teeth gritted, Jason smashed into Marty. The homet
own crowd booed, prompting Jason to grin. How ’bout that, Gallagher? That a good enough hit for you, you hard-assed bastard?

  Pumped, Jason threw the loosened puck behind the net, then skated out into the crease. “Fuck you,” San Diego’s goalie Wingo Charleston jeered through his mask as he whacked Jason on the legs.

  “I know you’d love to,” Jason shot back as he subtly slapped Wingo’s glove with his stick. The puck slid into the opposite corner. Again Jason hustled after it, but not before putting a hit on another San Diego player, Tommy Park. Again the crowd booed loudly, which only spurred Jason on. You hear that, Ty? That’s the sound of me kicking ass. The puck came loose, but this time, instead of throwing it behind the net, Jason passed it to Thad Meyers in the slot, who snapped it right through Wingo’s five hole. New York was on the board.

  Jason skated back to the bench. Ty patted his shoulder, but no words of praise crossed his lips. They weren’t necessary: Jason sat only one shift before Ty sent him back out on the ice with another line.

  Jason suppressed a cocky smile. Glad it’s finally dawning on you what I can do, old man. There was a scramble at center ice as the puck was once again dumped deep into San Diego’s offensive zone. Dominate, Jason thought, flying in after it. Marty Cuff chased it down and looked to skate it out. Didn’t learn your lesson last time, huh, asshole? Jason checked him against the boards, satisfaction surging through him as he watched Marty crumple to the ice. His delight was short-lived as Marty’s teammate Wynton Brawdy smashed Jason into the boards from behind. Jason whipped around, dropping his gloves.

  “Fucking cheap shot, Brawdy!” Jason yelled.

  Brawdy shook free of his gloves. “Bite me, you fucking yokel.”

  Grab his sweater, Jason urged himself as the two went at it. Lock the bastard up. Watch his left. Adrenaline pounding, Jason swung his right arm, connecting with Brawdy’s jaw. Brawdy hit the ice just as the linesmen arrived to break them apart. The sound of the crowd booing was like music to Jason’s ears as he skated back to the Blades bench, where his teammates stood banging their sticks against the boards to show their support. Jason was double-shifted for the rest of the game. In the end, New York won, 2-0, both goals assisted by Jason.