by Holly Jacobs
Finn wasn’t sure how to respond to that, because as a doctor, he knew that Mr. Neils was anything but fine and dandy, so he settled for, “Congratulations.”
He started his pre-op checklist.
“Do you have a sweetheart, Doc?” Mr. Neils asked.
“No.” He thought about his talk with Mattie. He’d never had time for a real relationship. But maybe that wasn’t all. There was an intimacy that came with relationships, and Finn always felt more comfortable keeping his distance. Apart from his family, his few childhood friends who were the next thing to family, but otherwise?
Even his nieces and nephew. He’d never felt overly connected to them, though he was trying to change that. Trying to be more accessible. If he won custody, he’d have to do better. And since better wasn’t in his lexicon, he’d strive to be the best.
The kids deserved nothing less than his best.
“You should get yourself a sweetheart, Doc. Having someone you love waiting for you at home every night...that’s what makes life worth living.”
“If I find a woman who can measure up to you, Mrs. Neils, I’ll snap her right up.”
The older woman laughed and waved her hand at both of them. “You two are embarrassing me.”
“Sweetheart, you shouldn’t be embarrassed by the truth...you’re a catch,” Mr. Neils said to his wife. “You know, I’m not hoping I make it so I can go back to work and sell one more car, one more truck. I’m hoping I make it so that I can have another night watching the sunset on the lake with you. I want to make it so we can go see our grandkids together next month. I want to make it so we can celebrate our forty-first anniversary next year.”
He turned to Finn. “When a man looks back at his life, he doesn’t think, I wish I’d done more this and bought more that, he wishes for more time. More time for the woman he loves. More time for his kids—his family. That’s the legacy a man leaves. The time and love he shared.”
Finn finished his exam, and thoughts about last Saturday with Mattie and the kids intertwined with thoughts of sunsets and anniversaries.
He never thought he wanted that. Kids. Grandkids.
He glanced back at Mr. and Mrs. Neils as he moved on to his next patient.
Maybe he was wrong.
He found himself anxious for the coming weekend.
* * *
WHOSE IDEA WAS Saturday-morning pickup parties? Mattie took a basket of laundry down to the washer in the basement. She felt out of sorts, although she couldn’t pinpoint exactly why.
She should be ecstatic. Finn had texted that he was running late, but was on his way, hopefully in time to take part in the pickup party.
She had a whole morning without him. It was a relief to spend the time with only the kids.
Finn’s text made it clear that he felt he was part of the routine. That’s what had set her off. Finn being part of her family. He was like Velcro...sticky and never letting go.
If it came down to it, he was part of the family, she thought morosely, as she sorted through the basket. Separating colored clothing from whites was easier than figuring out Finn Wallace.
He was forcing his way into their weekends. Or at least he was easing his way in.
She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. The kids needed him. She could see that. But she didn’t. Did she?
They didn’t talk about “the elephant in the room,” but they talked about everything else.
He’d started texting during the week, just to check in. He called a couple times, too, to chat with the kids about school and how their days had been. Abbey and Mickey seemed to relish the attention. Zoe mostly sneered and proclaimed herself too busy to talk to him.
Keeping in touch with the kids may have started out as part of his ploy to win custody, but Mattie didn’t think that was Finn’s motivation now. He cared.
He cared about how their lives were going.
He cared that they were in pain and still missing their mother, and he was trying to fill in some of the void.
He cared because the kids were family, but also because he liked the kids in their own right.
He cared period.
She shoved the load of colored clothes into the washer with a bit more force than necessary.
Finn Wallace cared.
That made her legal position more tenuous than ever, even worse, it made her question whether or not fighting for the kids was the right thing. She saw in his eyes how hard he was trying when he was with the kids.
“Aunt Mattie,” Zoe screamed, with a tone that had Mattie dropping the basket and sprinting up the stairs.
The front door was open and Zoe and Abbey were pointing outside.
Mattie found Mickey chasing after the biggest animal she’d ever seen. It might have been a wolfhound...or a bear.
“Here, puppy,” Mickey called.
“Mickey, leave that dog alone!” Mattie shouted. “You don’t know—”
“He almost got hit by a car, Aunt Mattie. I gotta get him.” He dived for the dog’s neck and wrapped his arms around it. “Come on, puppy.”
Puppy my butt, Mattie muttered, but the dog seemed harmless. He let himself be caught, then led by Mickey onto the front lawn.
“We can’t leave him out here to get run over.” Mickey pleaded with eyes as round as saucers. As if he believed she’d ever turn a dog loose to meet a tragic end.
And truth be told, she wouldn’t. She held out a hand and the dog sniffed her and decided she smelled good enough to lick, and he proceeded to do that with a great deal of enthusiasm.
“He likes you and he likes me,” Mickey said. “Can we keep him? I wanted a dog, now here’s one.”
“If he gets a dog, I getta fish,” Abbey cried.
“No,” Mattie said to both the fish and the dog. Mickey’s face fell, and she knelt down next to him and the dog. “Honey, he’s a great dog. I’m sure someone’s out there looking for him right now.”
“But look how dirty he is.”
And hungry, Mattie thought.
If the yard was totally fenced in, she’d put the dog in the back while she called the Humane Society, but it wasn’t. Not knowing what else to do, she said, “Okay, we’ll bring him inside and get him something to eat—”
“And a bath,” Zoe said from the porch. “He stinks.”
Mattie might have questioned how Zoe could know what the dog smelled like from that distance, but having knelt close to the dog herself, she knew.
“And a bath. Then we’ll make some calls and see if we can find his owners.” She looked Mickey in the eye and said clearly and distinctly, “Because we’re not keeping him.”
“Okay, Aunt Mattie.” The boy led the dog up the porch.
“He’s really big,” said Abbey, with awe in her voice.
“Yeah, but he’s nice,” Mickey pointed out. As if he understood, the dog leaned down and gave Abbey a delicate kiss on the arm.
“He likes me, too,” she exclaimed.
“Yeah, ’course he does. He likes everyone. He just wants a family.” Mickey looked at Mattie with a mixture of hope and belief. “Everyone wants a family, even dogs.”
No, Mattie told herself. No, she could not let the kids have a dog...especially not a dog that was big and would probably get even bigger.
“Let’s get him fed,” she suggested, herding them all into the kitchen, “before he decides we look tempting.”
“We ain’t got no dog food,” Mickey informed her.
“No, but I’m pretty sure there’s some roast beef and gravy from last night. And I bet he’d rather eat roast than dog food.” Her proclamation turned out to be accurate as the dog wolfed down the dinner.
He looked like he was going to curl up and rest after his meal, but there was nowhere in the house she was letting that dirty mess rest until he was cleaned up. She’d learned a long time ago that bathing Abbey could be a wet ordeal, and that eight-year-old boys were messy affairs, too,
but she suspected that it was going to be worse with a hundred-plus-pound puppy.
She was right.
It seemed that their guest was a bit waterphobic. Mickey, fully clothed, ended up climbing into the tub to wrap his arms around the dog’s neck, while Mattie used the shower hose to rinse the animal down. That basically turned all the dirt that was clumped in his coarse fur into mud, and once the transformation was complete, that’s when the dog made his escape. He bolted from the tub, flinging mud balls left and right, while Mickey fell backward into the dirty water. He stood up dripping, yet grinning, and called, “Hey, puppy, come ’ere, puppy!”
“Puppy my a—” Mattie said under her breath as she chased down the stairs after the beast.
It ran into the living room, through the kitchen, into the dining room, through the foyer and back into the living room. The house was a giant circle and she remembered the kids when they were little, gleefully pushing toys, careening around the corners and laughing maniacally. There was no laughing today as the dog, having decided that the people chasing him were playing some wonderful new game, ran full speed, knocking into tables and sending their contents falling to the ground as he spewed mud in his wake.
“Puppy, here puppy,” Mickey, and soon Abbey called.
Zoe came down the stairs to investigate and stood watching the show.
“Don’t let him back up the stairs,” Mattie hollered.
For once, Zoe didn’t argue. She nodded and widened her stance.
“Ab and Mick, you go that way. I’ll go this way, and maybe we can trap him—”
The doorbell interrupted her.
The dog paused long enough to start barking at the door.
Mattie turned around and opened the door the merest of cracks. It was Finn. “We have a bit of a problem.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked, squeezing through the door and shutting it behind him.
“An escaped, half-washed dog.”
The dog now suddenly decided the newcomer wasn’t a threat, and might be another player of the wonderful new game, so he bolted back into the living room. Zoe maintained her station on the stairs. “Hi, Uncle Finn,” she called, sounding friendlier than she ever had.
Abbey and Mickey screamed as they gave chase.
“The kids got a dog?” Finn asked.
“Aunt Mattie,” Abbey called from what sounded like the kitchen.
“I’ll explain later. I’ve got a dog to catch.”
“I’ll help,” Finn promised stoically.
“Brave man.”
The dog ran past them, Abbey and Mickey on his tail...literally. “Puppy, puppy,” they both chanted.
“Hi, Uncle Finn,” Abbey shouted as the dog tore around the corner, and the kid whipped along behind him.
“That’s not a dog it’s a...” Finn hesitated, clearly trying to think of something to compare it to.
Mattie filled in the blank. “I thought it might be a bear.”
“That’s close,” he said.
“So are you still in?” Mattie asked, a challenge in her voice.
He heard it, squared his shoulders and nodded. “Sure.”
“You head toward the kitchen, I’ll head around this way. We’ll try to corral him between us.”
Finn nodded and shot her a salute. “Aye, aye, Captain.”
“Zoe, don’t let him up the stairs,” she called.
“I won’t.” Zoe had on a red sweatshirt, and she spread her arms like some human stop sign.
There was another loud crash and Mattie tried not to imagine what sort of damage the dog was doing.
She met up with Finn in the kitchen, the dog and the kids were cornered by the back door.
“Aunt Mattie, don’t be mad. He’s just scared.”
She reached in the junk drawer and pulled out an old extension cord. She tied a slipknot on one end and walked, with her makeshift leash, toward the dog. “Come on, mud ball. Let’s finish cleaning you up, and then we’ll get you sorted out.”
“If no one wants him can I keep him?” Mickey asked, his arms once again wrapped around the dog’s soaking-wet neck.
“We’ll talk later, Mick.”
The little boy gave the dog a harder squeeze. “But I think he loves me.”
“Yeah, he loves me, too,” Abbey said, also hugging the dog. “He ain’t got no one to love him but me and Mickey. Maybe his daddy left him and his mommy went up to live with the angels and he’s all alone. He ain’t got no Aunt Mattie to come take care of him.”
Mattie slipped the cord around the dog’s neck and tightened it enough that he couldn’t slip out of it. “We’ll talk about what we’re going to do with the dog—”
“Bear,” Finn muttered.
“Oh, Uncle Finn, you gave him his name,” Abbey said gleefully. “Come on, Bear. Let’s get you washed off. Aunt Mattie will like you better if you smell good.”
“Then we’ll help you clean up,” Mickey promised Mattie. “Today will be a real pickup party.”
Mattie stared at what had once been a neat kitchen and now looked as if a bomb had gone off in it. Stools were overturned, somehow the dog had pulled at the kitchen tablecloth and taken down the remains of this morning’s meal.
“This couldn’t get any worse,” Mattie said, and on cue, the doorbell rang. “Come on, Bear.”
The dog heeled at her side as if he’d aced his obedience classes.
“You caught him,” Zoe said, laughter in her voice. “I wasn’t sure you were gonna be able to.”
“Bear’s fast,” Mickey said with pride in his voice.
“Bear?” Zoe asked.
“Uncle Finn named him.” Abbey hugged the dog again. “He likes him, don’t you, Uncle Finn.”
Mattie glanced at Finn, who shot her an apologetic look and nodded. “Of course I do.”
“We’re gonna keep ’im, Zoe,” Mickey said, then glanced at Mattie and added, “if there’s no one looking for him.”
“I don’t need no fish, if Mickey will share Bear with me,” Abbey said.
“Yeah, I’ll share him. He’s big enough to share real good,” Mickey vowed.
Mattie knew she should argue that she hadn’t said that, but they’d have a talk about it later. As the kids discussed Bear and the possibility of owners claiming him, the doorbell rang again.
Mattie opened the door and an older woman juggling a clipboard and a travel mug said, “Are you Mathilda Keith?”
“Yes.” The last time she’d opened the door to a stranger, she found out she was being sued. The woman had her gray hair pulled back into a severe bun, and wore a bright pink suit, which seemed cheerily at odds with the severe expression on her face. And there was something in her voice...an almost accent. As if the woman had once had an accent and had worked to rid herself of it, but couldn’t eradicate it entirely.
Mattie had a sinking feeling that this stranger was going to bring her even more bad news.
The woman pulled a business card from under the clip on the board. “I’m Mrs. Callais, from social services. I’m here to make an inspection of the house and the children.”
The more she spoke, the more Mattie picked up on the almost accent. Southernish, but not completely.
Thinking about the social worker’s accent was easier than thinking about why this tiny, well-dressed woman was here.
“This isn’t the best time,” Mattie said, which was obviously not the right thing to say to a social worker who was making a surprise inspection.
“Chérie, the point of this kind of visit is to ascertain what is really going on in the home. Not the best time for you is definitely the best time for me to be here.”
Mattie gestured toward the open door and Bear lunged at the new visitor. “Bear, no.” Mattie planted her heels and held the dog back. “Come in.”
Mrs. Callais stepped inside, and Mattie closed the door with her foot, trying to keep Bear from examining their guest. “We’re ha
ving a bit of an exciting morning.”
“I got a new dog,” Mickey said. “But he don’t like baths none, so we had to chase him down. Aunt Mattie she made him a leash.”
“Just call me MacGyver,” she said.
The reference was lost on the kids, but Finn shot her a smile. “I’m Finn Wallace,” he said to the woman.
“Oh, you’re the uncle who’s filed the suit, aren’t you?” the woman asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “I wouldn’t have expected to find you here.”
“What suit?” Zoe asked before Finn could respond.
“That’s not anything you all need to worry about,” Mattie said. “Right now, we’re going to let your uncle show Mrs. Callais around the house while Mickey and I finish rinsing the mud off Bear. You girls, if you could start the pickup party without us, we’ll come help as soon as Bear is clean.” She turned to the social worker. “Mrs. Callais, make yourself at home. Look around all you like, and accept my apology over the chaos. Bear does not enjoy baths. As soon as I have him relatively presentable, I’ll be down to answer any of your questions.”
She took the dog and climbed the stairs with Mickey and Bear in tow.
She refused to think about the fact that she’d probably lost custody of the children. There was no way the social worker would leave her in charge of them when she got a look at the rest of the house.
“Aunt Mattie, what’s that lady want?” Mickey asked as they went up to the bathroom, which was completely splattered with mud and water from Bear’s escape.
“She’s here to make sure you kids are okay. That’s her job. Protecting kids. That’s a great job to have, don’t you think?”
“That’s your job, too, right?” he asked. “I mean, you take care of us and protect us. When Mom was sick, she said she wasn’t scared to leave us ’cause she knew you’d take care of us and love us. She said that’s a special thing and not everyone can do it, but you were special and could. You do a great job.”
Mattie never cried. It fact, she was quite proud of it. But when Mickey reached up and hugged her, she felt a suspicious moisture welling up in her eyes—a moisture that had nothing to do with the muddy dog bathwater that now stank throughout the house.
“Thanks, Mick. That’s nice to hear.”
