Dragonfly Summer (A Smith Mountain Lake Novel Book 2)

by Inglath Cooper

  “It’s true.”

  “I don’t think I always was. In the beginning.”

  “Of your career?”

  She nods. “I had a lot of anger. I’m afraid I misdirected it for a while.”

  “We’re all a work in progress,” I say. “Seems like you figured it out.”

  “Thanks,” she says, and I can tell she really means it. “Carson misses you terribly by the way.”

  “I’ve missed him.”

  “He’s really good company,” she says. “Evan has been seeing Analise a lot, so it’s just been the two of us hanging out at the house.”

  “I hope it wasn’t too much of an imposition.”

  “I’ve actually loved having him around. In fact, I was wondering if you might be willing to go with me to pick out a dog at the local shelter. When you’re feeling better, I mean. Evan has wanted one forever, and I—”

  “I’d be really happy to do that,” I say. “Any time you want to.”

  “Thanks,” she says, glancing over to meet eyes with me. “Would you be up for it tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow, it is.”

  We can do no great things, only small things with great love.

  – Mother Teresa

  Keegan

  I DECIDE NOT TO tell Evan that we’re going. If for some reason, it doesn’t work out, I don’t want him to be disappointed.

  Bowie insists on driving, even though I know his leg must be sore. “There’s a county shelter about forty minutes away where the dogs don’t always get out,” he says. “Is that the kind of place you want to go to?”

  “What do you mean?” I ask. “Don’t always get out?”

  “They have a limited time to be adopted.”

  “Or they’re put to sleep?”

  He nods, his expression regretful. “It’s not easy to go there, but you’ll definitely be saving a life.”

  I consider this, nodding, not sure how I feel about going into such a place. “Yes. Okay.”

  Bowie brings Carson along, and he rides in the seat between us, curling up immediately for a nap.

  Bowie and I make small talk all the way to the shelter. We both seem reluctant to touch on anything too significant, and I find myself feeling nervous about what I’m about to do. What if I can’t choose?

  By the time Bowie pulls the truck into the gravel parking lot in front of a small brick building, I actually feel sick with nerves. He gets out, telling Carson to stay. I open my door and slide out.

  “You’re sure you want to do this?” Bowie asks, looking at me with concern in his eyes. “We can go somewhere else if you’d rather. There’s an adoption center—”

  “No,” I say. “This is good. Let’s go in.”

  He leads the way, and I follow him up the short stairs and through the main door. A woman with curly hair and round glasses looks up from the front desk.

  “Can I help you?” she asks.

  “I’m interested in adopting a dog,” I say.

  “What kind?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “If you can give me an idea what you’re looking for,” she says, looking irritated, “I can tell you if we have anything like that. You want an urgent status dog, or does that matter?”

  “Urgent status?” I repeat.

  “Meaning their time is up,” she says, as if speaking to someone incapable of understanding her words. “And today will be their last day. Before they’re euthanized.”

  “I—how many are urgent status?”

  “Two.”

  “Keegan,” Bowie says, sympathy in his voice. “We can go if—”

  “May I see them?” I ask.

  “I’ll have to bring them out here. Visitors aren’t allowed in the kennels.”

  “Okay,” I say, wondering suddenly if I should have just asked her to bring out one of them. How can I possibly choose between them?

  Bowie and I wait in silence until she disappears through a heavy metal door.

  “Are you sure this is what you want—” Bowie begins.

  “Yes,” I say, even though I’m not sure at all. I just know I can’t leave.

  She’s back in a couple of minutes, pushing through the door as if she has far more pressing things to do than bring out dogs for me to look at. My gaze snags on the puppy under her left arm. A tiny black and tan face stares back at me, eyes wide with concern.

  My heart takes an instant nose dive. “Ohhh,” I say.

  “This one,” she says, tipping her head at the puppy in her arms. “And this one.”

  I follow her gaze then to the dog following behind her on a nylon leash.

  “Although I’m sure you’ll be taking the puppy,” the woman says.

  The dog now standing beside her looks as if he knows she’s right. His posture is dejected and tired. His black coat is matted in places, and he’s clearly in need of a bath. His ears are gray at the tips, and his muzzle has started to whiten. His tail is tucked between his legs, and I’m fairly certain he doesn’t expect another good thing to ever happen for him.

  I know that feeling. Early in my life, those were my own expectations.

  I glance at the puppy and then back at the dog. “I’ll take them,” I say.

  “Both?” the woman asks, surprise in her voice, and then a grudging respect, when she adds, “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. I want them both.”

  I am only one, but I am one. I cannot do everything, but I can do something. And I will not let what I cannot do interfere with what I can do.

  – Edward Everett Hale

  Bowie

  CARSON GIVES BOTH dogs a thorough inspection outside the truck before giving the tail-wag okay for me to let them in. He rides up front with me, and Keegan gets in the back seat with the puppy and the old guy, insisting that’s where she wants to be.

  We’re pulling out of the parking lot when Keegan finds my gaze in the rearview mirror. “You think I’m nuts, don’t you?”

  “I don’t think that at all. I just hope you didn’t feel pressured to take them both. I’ll feel bad if you regret it.”

  “I won’t,” she says, and I can hear in her voice that it’s true. “I never knew it was like that.”

  “The limited time to be adopted?”

  “Yes,” she says. “It’s so horrible.”

  I glance at the puppy curled up in her lap. And the old dog with his head resting on her thigh. “It is horrible.”

  “What about tomorrow and the ones who are ‘urgent status’ then? What if no one comes for them?” she asks, tears in her voice.

  “You have to think about the ones you’ve helped,” I say. “You can’t let yourself think beyond that.”

  But she’s quiet the rest of the drive home. And I know she’s clearly thinking about it.

  Love begins at home, and it is not how much we do… but how much love we put in that action.

  – Mother Teresa

  Keegan

  AS SOON WE get back to the house, I decide to give them each a bath. There’s a shower in the bathroom next to the pool, and that seems like a good place to do it.

  Bowie waits outside with them while I run in and change into shorts and a T-shirt, grabbing a big bottle of shampoo and conditioner from my bathroom.

  Carson is playing with the puppy when I get back, so I decide to start with the older guy. He looks unsure, but I think he’s already decided I’m trustworthy because he follows me into the bathroom and walks into the shower stall as if he’s done it a hundred times.

  I let the water get warm and use the shower spray to soak his coat. Reddish dirt streams from it, and I wonder when he last had a bath. He closes his eyes and stands quietly, as if it feels like heaven to him. I lather him up with my good shampoo, scrubbing his skin until there’s no sign of dirt at all.

  I then rinse him thoroughly, standing back to give him an admiring appraisal. “You look amazing,” I say.

  He wags his tail, swishing water.

  Bowie comes in the bathro
om, holding the puppy. “You ready for this little girl?”

  “Trade you,” I say.

  “Thought of names yet?” he asks.

  “Maybe Noah for this fellow,” I say. “And Molly for this sweetie.”

  “Noah and Molly it is,” he says.

  I take the puppy from him and Noah walks out of the shower. Bowie calls him, and they head back to the pool.

  Molly takes no time at all to get clean. She wags her little tail and tries to entice me to play as I rub the shampoo into her coat, smiling at her puppy growls.

  Both dogs seem as if they have come to life in the past two hours. Somehow, they had known they weren’t in a good place. I think they feel safe again. And for the first time in a really long time, I feel like I’ve done something that actually matters.

  THE LOOK ON Evan’s face when he arrives home later in the afternoon to find Noah and Molly playing on our kitchen floor is pretty much priceless.

  “Are they ours?” he asks, looking at me as if he’s not sure he recognizes me.

  “They are,” I say. “Meet Noah, the big guy. And Molly is the puppy.”

  He walks over and drops down on his knees next to Noah, reaching out to rub under his chin. “How did you—”

  “Bowie took me to the shelter this afternoon.”

  “And you actually decided to adopt two?” he asks, incredulous.

  “They both needed us,” I say, deciding not to elaborate beyond that.

  “Mom. That’s amazing.”

  Molly crawls onto his lap, planting her tiny paws on his chest and trying to lick his face. Evan laughs and lifts her up.

  “What made you decide to do this?” he asks.

  “We need some more love in this house, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah,” he says, looking at me with a smile. ” I guess you can never have too much of that.”

  SEEING THE WAY Evan interacts with Noah and Molly makes me realize how good their company will be for him.

  He spends hours on the living room floor with them, playing with Molly and just hanging out with Noah. He takes them both outside numerous times to get them used to going potty in a certain area.

  Bowie calls after dinner to see how we’re doing.

  “They’re amazing,” I say. “I wish I’d done this sooner. I wish I had known—”

  “I think you did it right when you needed to. And right when they needed you. Doesn’t get much better than that.”

  “Thanks,” I say. “For taking me there today. And for being such a good friend.”

  “You’re welcome,” he says. “I was glad to be a part of it.”

  We’re quiet for several moments. I think about the fact that I’ve thanked him for being a good friend. And I know as surely as I’ve ever known anything that I want him to be more than that. I want us to be more than that.

  But I don’t know how to say it. Or maybe I’m just scared to.

  “All right then,” he says. “Have a good night, Keegan.”

  “You too, Bowie.”

  And we hang up without me saying anything at all.

  Why not go out on a limb? That’s where the fruit is.

  – Mark Twain

  Bowie

  TWO WEEKS PASS, and I barely see Keegan or Evan. She calls to check on my leg a few times, but we don’t make any plans to see each other. It’s like we’ve both realized the feelings getting a foothold between us would have shallow roots at best, with no real chance of becoming anything permanent.

  I bury myself in the book I’m working on, starting early and finishing late. I set personal records for daily word count. Losing myself in the story keeps me from picking up the phone and dialing Keegan’s number against my better instincts.

  That doesn’t mean I don’t think about her.

  I do.

  I run into Evan one afternoon at the marina when I stop in for gas. I’m driving the new boat I bought after mine was declared not worth fixing.

  Evan is driving a new Mastercraft with big speakers on the tower. Noah is sitting on the seat beside him, looking as if he’s been a lake dog his whole life.

  Carson jumps out of my boat and trots over to greet them, wagging his tail.

  “Hey, Evan,” I say, following Carson.

  “Hey, Bowie,” Evan says. “It’s good to see you. How’s your leg?”

  “Pretty much healed,” I say.

  “That’s great to hear,” he says.

  “Like the new ride.”

  “Yeah, Mom got cool points for this one.”

  “I’m sure you’re doing some good skiing behind that.”

  “I’m still not very good, but it makes me look better than I am.”

  I smile at that. “How’re the pups?” I ask, reaching over to rub Noah’s head.

  “Awesome. Molly’s with Mom. She’s not as crazy about the boat as Noah is.”

  “How is your mom?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant.

  “Good,” he says, and then, hesitating, adds, “Why’d you two stop hanging out?”

  The question surprises me, and I’m not sure how to answer honestly without sounding like a loser. “Ah, you know, I’m sure a woman like your mom has hotter irons in the fire.”

  “If she does, she’s not interested in any of them,” Evan says, looking at me directly. “Can I be honest with you?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “Sure.”

  “She likes you. A lot. And I can tell she wondered why you quit calling.”

  “It wasn’t really like that, Evan.”

  “Hey, I get it. Because she’s a celebrity, you think you’d be a temporary thing. I wouldn’t want to be that either. But I know my mom. And she likes you. She hasn’t really liked a guy for a long time. It’d be nice if you called her. I’m pretty sure she’s kind of lonely.”

  It’s clear that Evan has gone out on a limb here. And I’m sure Keegan wouldn’t want him disclosing all of this to me. But I can tell that he loves his mom. And wants to see her happy. “I’d like to see her, Evan. I’ll call her.”

  “Cool,” he says, nodding. “Just don’t tell her—”

  “I won’t,” I say.

  Footsteps sound on the dock behind us. I glance over my shoulder to see Analise jogging toward us in shorts and a bathing-suit top. “Hey,” she says to both of us.

  “Hey, yourself,” Evan says, making an obviously deliberate effort to keep his gaze on her face. “Ready to ski?”

  “Ready to show you how,” she teases.

  “I’d like to deny it,” Evan says, looking at me. “But she smokes me.”

  “You two have fun out there. Be careful.”

  THE FOURTH OF JULY is only two days away, so I decide to ask Keegan if she would like to come over for dinner and watch the fireworks from my dock.

  I’m actually nervous dialing her number.

  She answers on the first ring. “Hey, Bowie.”

  “Hey,” I say. “How are you?”

  “Good. How’s your leg?”

  “Great. I saw Evan at the marina a couple days ago.”

  “He mentioned that,” she says, sounding as if she’s not sure where to go from there.

  “I’d like to see you, Keegan.”

  “You would?”

  Her surprise is clear, and that surprises me. “Yeah. I would. Would you like to come over for dinner on the fourth? There’s always a big fireworks display on the lake after dark. I have a really good view from the dock here.”

  “I would love that,” she says. “Can I bring something?”

  “The dogs if you’d like, although I usually leave Carson in the house when the fireworks start going off. He gets pretty scared.”

  “I didn’t think about that,” she says. “Thanks for mentioning it.”

  “Seven o’clock sound good?”

  “It does.”

  “I’ll see you then.”

  “Hey, Bowie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s good to hear from you.”

 
Secrets are things we give to others to keep for us.

  – Elbert Hubbard

  Keegan

  I SIT WITH THE phone in my hand for a long while after Bowie and I hang up. Noah hops down from the couch, walks over and puts his head on my leg, as if he knows I’m thinking about something that needs his sympathy. Molly is stretched out on the floor, fast asleep with puppy exhaustion.

  I rub Noah’s head and say, “Well, that was a surprise.”

  He sits, his tail swishing across the floor.

  “A good surprise. Do you think Evan had anything to do with that?”

  Noah looks off, no longer wagging his tail.

  “Oh, he told you to keep it a secret, did he?” I scratch under his chin. “I respect that. What do you think I should wear?”

  He looks back at me, and I laugh because the look on his face is exactly what Evan’s would be. Seriously, Mom?

  Faith consists in believing when it is beyond the power of reason to believe. It is not enough that a thing be possible for it to be believed.

  – Voltaire

  Keegan

  I FEEL AS IF I’m going on a first date.

  It’s ridiculous how nervous I am. I ask for Evan’s approval on my outfit, and he gives me the same look Noah had given me, but does manage to add, “Yeah, that looks great, Mom.”

  I give the sleeveless summery dress a last look in the full-length mirror inside the downstairs half-bath. And then tell myself it is what it is.

  In the living room, Evan is playing a video game.

  “So Analise is coming over here?” I ask.

  “Yeah. She’s bringing pizza and a couple of friends with her.”

  “And you’re planning to behave, right?”

  “Mom.”

  “Evan.”

  “Yes, I’m planning to behave. Are you?” he asks, giving me a pointed look.