by Ciara Shayee
Nineteen
Piper
“Come on, Momma.”
Rolling my eyes and stuffing the essentials into my purse, I hurry outside to join my boys on the driveway. “Watch the attitude, Lo,” I warn gently, ushering them into the car. I picked this beauty up first thing this morning. It’s a Chevy Traverse and belonged to a couple that live right here in Jackson Bay who wanted to downgrade to a smaller car, which worked out perfectly for me.
Flashing his best innocent smile, Arlo clambers into the backseat with his brothers. “Sorry, Momma. I’m just excited.”
Once I’ve dumped my purse on the front seat, I head around to fasten the boys in. They’ve been asking for a dog for so long, I can’t really be mad that they’re all wired up today. They’ve been bouncing off the walls ever since I told them at breakfast what we’re doing today.
“I know you’re excited, kiddo. You’ve got to behave today, though. The shelter is probably going to be busy and loud, so I need you all to promise to be good and listen to me, okay?” The boys all chime their agreement, so I ruffle Arlo’s messy ‘do and close the door on their chatter, climbing into the front. “All right, let’s get going, huh?”
“Yeah!”
My smile widens when I check my phone before tapping the shelter address into the GPS, seeing an unread text from Kellan.
Have fun today. Pick something nice and friendly, please. I don’t want to get attacked when I sneak out in the mornings.
Shooting back a promise to pick something nice and sneak-out friendly, I clip my phone onto the dash and get comfy for the journey, briefly wondering if I’m going to regret this.
*
The animal shelter just outside Jacksonville is full of dogs needing new homes. When we arrive, the lady at reception is so busy fielding calls that we end up waiting fifteen minutes just to say who we are and collect our passes to go back into the rehoming section.
“All right, kiddos. Where shall we start?”
Arlo is beside himself, his lip disappearing between his teeth as he bounces on the balls of his feet and looks between the two doors in front of us. “Left,” he finally decides, Jaxson and Finley happy to follow his lead. Trailing behind them, I cross my fingers and pray they’ll find their new best friend today. The website says they have over six hundred dogs at any one time. There must be one here all three boys will like, right?
Wrong.
It takes a couple of hours for me to realize how wrong I was to assume this would be easy.
We’ve walked around the entire shelter twice and they haven’t shown much attention to a single dog. Not one has caught their attention for more than a passing look. I’m gutted.
Arlo’s pursed-lipped frown makes me feel like the worst parent in the world.
“Why don’t we take another look in here?” I suggest hopefully. “Maybe we missed one. Some were on walks when we went through here before.”
Shrugging, Arlo toes the floor and blows hair out of his eyes. He couldn’t look more disappointed if he tried. Jaxson and Finley are wearing the same expression, which kills me, but this is Arlo’s dream more than theirs. They won’t be heartbroken today if we leave without a dog, but Arlo will.
“Come on, boys, maybe we’ll—”
I’m cut off by a cacophony of raised voices followed by a bang as the door at the end of the corridor flies open and hits the wall. A mound of fur barrels through and charges straight toward the boys, a trio of shelter staff running after him, although not quickly enough to stop him crashing into Arlo.
“Oh my God, Lo!” Heaving the dog off him by its collar, I manage to hang onto its wiggling body while I check Arlo is okay.
The giggles that erupt out of him as he lays there on the floor set the dog off again. It goes even crazier when Jaxson and Finley join in, showering him with attention and laughter. Losing my grip, I give in to a smile as the waggy-tailed beast and my cackling kids roll around together on the floor.
“I’m so sorry, Miss,” one of the shelter staff pants, catching up. He hauls the dog off the boys and clips a leash to its collar. “He’s a bit of a Houdini, but we thought we had him.”
Now I can get a good look at the dog’s head, I can see he’s a Saint Bernard, or something similar. He has big, brown puppy dog eyes in a wrinkly white, black, and russet face. He’s all gangly legs and too-big paws with a fluffy, whip-like tail that slaps my legs over and over. He’s cute.
And judging by the way my boys are going gaga over him, I’d say we’re onto a winner.
The guy hanging onto the dog raises his eyebrows at me when I face him, a wry smile on my face. “What can you tell me about him?”
“Why don’t we head down the hall to the family room and you can all get to know each other a bit?”
The floofy beast drags the poor guy down the hall to the family room, then turns his sights on his new fan club. The boys are only too happy to take the heat while I sit down with the shelter guy—or Steven, as his name tag reads.
“So,” he begins, dropping into a chair at the two-seat table in the corner. There’s a computer wedged on one side and an overflowing tray of papers on the other, so I fold my hands in my lap and keep an eye on the boys. So far, so good. “I’ll just load up this guy’s info and then you can have a read, but I think you might have a battle on your hands now the little dudes have fallen in love.”
Shaking my head, I understand why Sebastian said it was a dumb idea to bring the boys to pick out their own dog. If, for whatever reason, this beast can’t come home with us now they’ve fallen in love with him, I’ll never hear the end of it. I distinctly recall my brother warning me about exactly that, not that I’ll be admitting it to him.
“Let’s just hope it’s a good fit, then.”
Steven nods, mumbling “Aha” a few moments later as he turns the monitor so we can both see it. There’s no picture in the box on the side—because the dog only arrived a few days ago, he tells me—and very little information in the ‘about me’ box.
Reading aloud, I listen to my sons giggling across the room and cross my fingers in my lap. “I am a four-month-old, purebred Saint Bernard. I’m a big, bouncy boy who would benefit from a refresher course on my basic training as well as some work on my manners, including jumping up and greeting people nicely. I’ve lived in two homes with young children and would be happy living with confident, well-mannered children.”
Eyeing my sons and their new buddy with skepticism, I wonder, “If he’s so great, why’s he here? And two homes already at only four months?”
Steven scratches his chin with a faint smile. “The first home was his breeder. They planned to breed from him as he has good show lines, but they got pregnant unexpectedly and couldn’t cope with an extra dog on top of a new baby.”
Humming, I warm Arlo to calm down a little. He and the dog are running around at warp speed nine hundred. “And the second home?”
“He, uh…he kept escaping. They kept him in their back yard but with a busy highway right behind their house, they were too worried. Also, they worked a lot and couldn’t give him the time and attention he needed for training.”
I bite my lip to stop myself asking why people get puppies when they work all day. At four months, he’s still a baby. He’ll need supervision to make sure he grows up well, which is why I’m glad Mom has already said she’s happy to watch our new dog when she has the boys. I didn’t anticipate the boys picking a puppy, but it’s convenient that Mom is happy to help out so he won’t be alone a lot. “So, that’s it? No other issues?”
“Other than the usual puppy things, none that we know of. He’s up to date with all his vaccinations so he’s good to go for walks and stuff, you’ll just need to be mindful of his growing joints until he’s fully grown.”
With a grin, Steven pulls up a Google search of ‘adult Saint Bernards’ and opens up the first image so it’s full screen. It’s a full-grown dog complete with a string
of drool hanging from one side of his mouth. “You’re aware that he’ll probably grow to be around one-fifty to one-eighty pounds?”
Holy crap, that’s a big dog.
Gazing at him across the room with the boys, all four of them curled up on a big bean bag, I can’t help but feel like this overgrown puppy is our overgrown puppy, despite the fact that one day soon, he’ll be bigger and heavier than all three boys put together.
“I think we can handle it. What do you need from me so I can take that lump home? And I suppose we’d better know his name, if he has one.”
Smirking, Steven murmurs, “Max, as in, to the max.”
At the sound of his name, the beast—no, Max—looks over at us. His big, brown eyes catch mine.
“Well, Max,” I pause, laughing at the answering thump of his tail against the tiles. “I guess you’re coming home with us. Welcome to the family.”
*
Much to my relief, Max manages to make it all the way home without throwing up, peeing, or pooping in my car. He behaves impeccably at the pet store where we stop to get supplies, then runs straight out into the back yard with the boys to pee on the grass.
Sending everyone a picture of him asleep in the trunk when we pulled up outside the house, I remind the boys not to jump on the trampoline while he’s up there with them and read the replies pouring in.
Squeee! He’s so adorable! When can we come over and snuggle his royal cuteness? – Carlie
Her text is followed by about ten heart-eyed emojis and a GIF of Agnes from Despicable Me with the caption ‘It’s so fluffy, I’m gonna die!’
He’s precious! Drop by once he’s all settled in so we can meet our new grandbaby xx – Mom
Are you sure that’s a puppy? He looks huge already! Cute, though. Let me know when I can bring Danny by to meet the new fella – Sebastian
It’s Kellan’s response that makes me smile the widest, though.
He looks ferocious! Remind me to bring padding when I come over.
Glancing up to make sure the boys aren’t terrorizing him, I quickly tap out a response.
Oh, he’s terrifying all right. He licked Finley right on the nose when we brought him inside, can you believe it?!
“Mom, I think Max needs to go potty!”
Spying Max doing circles with his nose to the trampoline, I think Finley might be right, so I jog across the yard and let him down onto the grass. He does a few laps of the trampoline, looking up at the boys watching him through the net, before squatting to do his business. The treats come out and the boys leap down to fuss over him until he’s running around with his tail wagging and his tongue lolling.
The buzz of my phone ten minutes later distracts me from the boys’ attempts to teach Max to sit. So far, he’s got the nose in the air following the treat part down, it’s following through and putting his fluffy butt on the ground he’s not mastered yet.
That does sound scary! I’ll be sure to be careful when I meet him.
Another text follows it before I have time to reply.
When will that be, out of interest? I’m guessing you won’t be coming over for dinner like you mentioned before.
Eyeing Max and the boys, I chew my lip and ponder my options. I did tell Kellan we’d be by for dinner today. I also told the boys that, and although they’re distracted right now, I bet they’ll remember as soon as they get hungry.
That said, I can’t leave Max alone in his new home so soon after bringing him home, so that leaves two options—skip dinner out tonight and face the boys’ wrath, or bring Max with us and sit out in the dog-friendly Burger Co. yard.
In the end, I opt for the path of least resistance and cross my fingers we’ll all come out of it unscathed.
“All right, kiddos. Who wants to have their baths first? We can’t go to Burger Co. for dinner all stinky and dirty.”
Twenty
Kellan
As afternoon sails into evening, the clouds part outside after an overcast day, making it warm enough to open up the back yard. There’s a deck out back with a few picnic tables and a large, extendable awning which juts out from the back of the building. A family of four comes in and requests an outdoor table, their little dog happily curling up on the deck at their feet.
One of my best decisions to date was making the yard dog friendly. When it’s nice out, we get a lot of customers stopping by with their pooches for a drink and a burger, the beach just yards away.
It’s fast-approaching six and most of the tables inside are full when Oliver cracks up.
“What?”
Following his gaze to the front of the store, I join him laughing at the view. Piper and the boys managed to snag a prime parking spot right out front, which gives me a great view of them as they climb out of her new car—but they’re not alone.
“I thought you said it was a puppy? Shit, that thing is huge already!” New Kid laughs.
Oliver snorts. “That is a puppy. Saint Bernards start off big and grow quick.”
I can’t help but chuckle, unable to take my eyes off Piper as the large puppy tows her toward a fire hydrant to cock his leg, then the boys run full-speed at the restaurant leaving their mom being pulled along in their wake.
I’m already at the podium with four of my freshly printed, recently updated menus in hand when Arlo stretches up onto his tiptoes to peer over the top. His toothy grin widens, Jaxson and Finley skidding to a stop behind him.
“Hey, Kellan! Guess what we got today!” Before I can even open my mouth, he tells me the answer—not that it isn’t pretty obvious anyway. The panting, furry beast of a puppy is right behind him with a frazzled Piper hanging onto his leash. “A dog! We got a dog!”
“I see that,” I laugh, opening the little gate that leads to the back. “Come on through. I saved your favorite table, but you’ve got the yard all to yourself for now, anyway.”
Rather than run behind him, Piper drops the leash and shakes her head as she follows me out into the sun, her new dog chasing her sons. “So, you decided to brave it, then?”
“Oh yeah, and we Fitzgeralds don’t do anything by halves, as you can see,” she says, gesturing at the puppy. His face is already not far off from being level with Arlo’s. “He literally bowled Arlo over at the shelter and it was insta-love.”
Sitting sideways on one of the picnic benches out back, it’s easy to see the relief on Piper’s face. Although there’s something else, too.
“You’re not as taken with him as the boys?” I guess.
“Max is just…not what I expected. A puppy is like a full-time job, and he’s a big puppy.”
Snorting, my gaze flicks back over to Max and the boys. Arlo is showing him the big water dish and the patch of grass at the end of the yard while Jaxson and Finley hunt for the dog toys I keep out here for visitors.
“…and this is where you gotta go potty, ‘kay?”
Piper and I laugh at the sloppy-tongued smooch Max gives Arlo in response.
“I think he’ll settle in just fine. You’ll forget he’s new to the family in no time.”
“Probably,” Piper admits with a small smile. “Anyway, what’s on the specials board today? I forgot to look on the way through, but I’m starving.”
An unexpected sliver of nerves slides through me as I reach for the menus. “I think you might be more interested in the new addition to the burger list, but I could be wrong.”
Brayden wasn’t that impressed when I insisted he learn a new recipe on the fly, and honestly, I’m not even sure what made me do it.
But then a beautiful, breath-stealing smile lights Piper’s face and that’s why. That look right there. I’d do anything to keep that right there.
“You added my burger to the menu! You…Kellan, that’s so cool!”
It took me a while to decide what to put as the description on the menu, but I know it by heart now.
The Piper Italia
Succulent beef pat
ty cooked in rosemary oil and seasoned with oregano, parsley, and optional chilies. Our delicious homemade tomato, red pepper, and basil ketchup comes standard, and a generous dose of mozzarella and a toasted ciabatta roll pulls it all together to give you the perfect taste of Italy.
“You did all the hard work the other day, I just had to make it sound as great as it tastes in as few words as possible.”
The sheer delight and surprise on Piper’s face is reward enough for how much of a pain in the ass it was to redesign the menu so soon after the last time, but it’s even more worthwhile when she throws her arms around my shoulders and presses a hot, discreet kiss against my collarbone.
“This is awesome, Kellan. Thank you.”
“It was no problem,” I croak, clearing my throat and reminding myself that the boys are still here, keeping my hands at the small of her back even though I’d love to run them lower.
My smile widens when she waves the boys over to brag about her burger being on the menu.
“That’s so cool, Kellan! Can I be on the menu?”
Snorting and running her fingers through Finley’s wavy ‘do, Piper shakes her head. “I’m not on the menu, kiddo. The burger I designed is. There’s a difference. You wouldn’t want to eat Momma, would you?”
No, but I would, I think, my eyes telling Piper exactly that. She shakes her head infinitesimally but I can see the smirk playing on her lips.
“I don’t know, Piper. He could be tasty, but I’d need to test him out before I can cook and sell him.” I don’t know what comes over me, but Finley is off the bench and in my arms before I can blink.
I’ve tipped him up and playfully nibbled his belly before I can consider what I’m doing and who I used to do this with. His peals of surprised laughter and the shocked look on Piper’s face when I glance up at her is a reality check.
My smile slips from my face as a chill runs through my veins.
“Gah, Daddy, don’t eat my belly! Gosh, your beard tickles!”
