Good Guys Love Dogs

by Inglath Cooper

  She’d been tempted to call him, to apologize for unloading on him last Sunday, but when she’d picked up the phone, cowardice won out. She hadn’t trusted her own declarations of indifference.

  She still didn’t.

  For the next hour, she deliberately put herself as far away from him as possible. At one point, she looked up and found him staring at her. She swallowed, caught up in remembering the heat of their kiss, and almost, almost, lost her resolve to keep her distance.

  Phoebe walked up just then. “Well, aren’t you going to go over and say hi?”

  “No, Phoebe, I’m not,” she said, and inserted herself in a debate between a young husband and wife trying to choose a kitten. Colby convinced them to take two, since the couple had a nice barn in which the cats earned their keep by keeping the mice away.

  At four o’clock, she made her way back to the gate, where Stacey said, “Boy, this was a great day. I think your letter to the paper pricked a few consciences.”

  Colby smiled. “Good. Who took our last little beagle?”

  “Mr. McKinley. You should have seen them leaving. That little fella was as happy as a bee in clover.”

  “That’s great,” Colby said, caught off guard by the news.

  Stacey laughed. “Yeah, I’d be happy if he took me home with him, too.”

  Colby aimed for a laugh herself and failed noticeably. She tried not to think about him, but he wasn’t helping matters any. Sooner or later, he would do something to tarnish his image. Sooner or later, all men did.

  35

  Having a puppy was like having a newborn baby in the house.

  On the way home, Ian stopped by the grocery store and bought several different varieties of puppy food, wanting to make sure he found one the puppy would like.

  Ian felt guilty about not taking every single animal home with him. Seeing those pets, each of whom once had a home to live in, staring up at every person who walked by with hopeful looks on their faces, made him feel sick inside.

  That explained why he’d ended up driving home with a grateful little beagle in the front seat. A beagle, of all things. Beagles weren’t New York City dogs. They liked to run. And chase rabbits. Didn’t they? There weren’t any rabbits on Park Avenue.

  First a calf and now a beagle. What was happening to him?

  He thought about the office he’d left behind in New York and the no-nonsense person he’d been. Would any of those people even recognize him? Would his own fiancée recognize him?

  He didn’t think so.

  He didn’t recognize himself.

  Back at the house, Mabel fussed over the puppy and fixed him a bowl of warm food, clucking and persisting until he’d finished every morsel.

  “Pretty soon we’ll have more animals roaming around here than Colby has at her clinic, won’t we, Mr. McKinley?” she asked with a knowing smile.

  Ian pretended to miss the innuendo behind Mabel’s seemingly innocent remark and went to the sink to rinse out the puppy’s bowl.

  Mabel left just after six, leaving Smidge and him alone with the latest addition to the family. The puppy refused to stay in his bed. He trotted around the house and acquainted himself with his new surroundings while Smidge followed, curious and a little miffed by his presence. Ian suspected the two would soon be devoted buddies.

  That night, Ian left them in the kitchen together. Luke had gone out with friends, and he didn’t expect him back until late. Ian had hoped he would get home in time to meet the new puppy, but it would have to wait until morning.

  He fixed a basket with a towel inside it and a ticking alarm clock beneath it. He’d once heard the noise comforted puppies recently taken from their mothers. He hoped it would work.

  He’d been upstairs no more than five minutes when the howling started. Only it sounded more like crying. Ian gave the puppy a few minutes, thinking he’d adjust. He didn’t.

  Guilt led Ian to the kitchen, where he scooped the puppy up, basket and all and took him to his room. Smidge stayed in the kitchen as if she didn’t want her sleep disturbed again. Ian tucked the puppy back in and kept his hand on the little guy’s head until he fell asleep. As soon as he removed his hand from the basket, the puppy started howling again.

  Ian finally dozed off at some point after eleven, but came abruptly awake to a pitiful, protesting wail sometime later. “Okay, okay.” He bent down to pick up the scrawny little puppy and tuck him beneath the covers. “You win.”

  “What’s going on?”

  Luke stood in the doorway, dressed in jeans and a leather jacket. He glanced at Ian and then at the puppy.

  “We’ve got a new member of the family,” Ian said. “Come meet him.”

  Luke hung back for a few moments, struggling not to appear too interested. But curiosity apparently got the better of him. He stepped inside the room and said, “Where did he come from?”

  “The adoption event today.”

  “Why?”

  Ian heard the surprise in his son’s voice and realized that it was justified. He wouldn’t have done that a few months ago. “He needed a home.”

  “Is he one of the puppies Dr. Williams wrote to the paper about?”

  Ian nodded. “You read the letter?”

  “Yeah.” Luke rubbed the sleepy puppy’s ears. The puppy got up and wagged his tail, then playfully swatted Luke’s hand with his paw.

  “We need to come up with a name for him,” Ian said.

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. What’s he look like?”

  “A shrimp.”

  Ian smiled. “You think he’d answer to that?”

  Luke shrugged and rubbed the puppy’s ears again, surprising Ian with his half smile.

  “Too bad we can’t think of something that means ‘doesn’t sleep at night.’”

  Luke laughed, startling Ian into speechlessness. He stared at his son for a moment, completely taken aback. How long had it been since he’d made his son laugh? Too long. Way too long.

  Rubbing the puppy’s back, Luke said, “What do you think about Rebel?”

  The puppy licked his hand and wagged his tail like a windshield wiper on high speed.

  “He does have a bit of a James Dean look to him, doesn’t he?”

  “Yeah, he does.” Luke picked the puppy up and cradled him against his chest.

  Pleasure rose inside Ian and spread outward, love for his son a pain in his heart. “He doesn’t like sleeping by himself. You want to take him with you?”

  Luke looked up at him, obviously pleased. “Sure.”

  “Smidge didn’t know what to think of him at first.”

  “She’ll like him. She’ll have somebody to play with other than Matilda.”

  Ian smiled. “Matilda’s not much on chasing rabbits.”

  Luke chuckled again. The sound filled Ian with gratitude, and he knew that anything he’d sacrificed in coming here had been worth it. This was the boy he’d missed. “You can have the basket,” he said, hearing the waver in his own voice.

  Luke scooped the basket up with one hand and headed out of the room. ‘“Night, Dad,” he said.

  “Hey, Luke?”

  “Yeah?” he said, turning around.

  Ian searched for words and prayed that his timing was right. “Remember what you said that night at the police station? About me blaming you for your mother’s death?”

  Luke held the puppy a little closer and nodded.

  “I want you to know that was never true. You were what kept me going then. I don’t know what I would have done without you. I’m the one who’s made some mistakes. It’s kind of hard to explain why people do the things they do, but I guess I used my work as a way to get through the grief. After a while, working became a way of life. I wanted to give you all the things my father never gave me when I was growing up. I didn’t realize that I wasn’t there for you in the ways that count, either. I hope you can forgive me for that, because I really want to make it up to you.”

  Luke lo
oked down at the puppy. When he glanced back up, his eyes held the sheen of tears. “I haven’t exactly been the world’s greatest son.”

  “With both of us trying, we’re bound to get things right sooner or later,” Ian said.

  Luke nodded, not quite meeting his gaze. “See you in the morning.”

  “’Night, son.”

  Luke turned in the doorway. “Maybe we could make a house for Rebel outside next to Smidge’s tomorrow.”

  Ian’s felt such love for the boy. “That’d be great, Luke. Really great.”

  And for the first time since they’d moved to Keeling Creek, Ian went to sleep feeling as if he’d made some small headway in the healing process between him and his son.

  Life was good.

  36

  Curling iron in hand, Lena put the finishing touches on her hair, deciding that maybe her own color - somewhere between blond and brown – wasn’t so bad. She’d stopped putting the purple streaks in it when Luke had said he thought her color much prettier.

  Because of Luke, Lena actually looked forward to school these days. She lived for the breaks in between classes when the two of them would meet at her locker.

  Since the campout, they had spent more and more time with each other. Sometimes, she still wanted to pinch herself to make sure it was true.

  Lena had never known anyone like Luke. He was exciting and fun. He made her feel things she didn’t understand but wanted to more than anything. When they were together, she didn’t think about the fact that her mom hadn’t brought up the subject of her father since the night she’d confronted her with the letter.

  She and Luke had been hanging out after school every day. Lena even told her mom she was going to the movies and met Luke instead. Even though her mom’s rule was that she couldn’t date until she turned sixteen, Lena justified whatever guilt she felt by reminding herself of how her mother deceived her all these years. This hardly compared.

  Luke felt easy to talk to in a way she very much needed since she and her mom were on the outs. She’d found herself telling him about it one day after school when they’d been sitting outside on the school steps. She’d somehow known he would understand. She told him about how she’d gone through her whole life thinking her father was dead. When she’d reached the part about finding the letter in her mother’s closet, she’d broken off, her voice cracking.

  “Did you ask her about it?” Luke had asked.

  Lena nodded. “Yeah, she was pretty freaked out. She’s supposedly trying to track him down.”

  “So, do you want to see him or something?”

  Lena stayed quiet. “I don’t know,” she said finally. “Yes, I want to. But I’m scared.”

  “Why?”

  “What if he doesn’t want to see me?”

  “Why wouldn’t he? He’d be crazy not to.”

  They’d sat on the grass while a fall breeze hinted at cooler weather. With Luke, Lena felt as if she could conquer all the demons inside her, her anger at her mother, her need to know about her father. He did that to her, made her feel like more than she was. She liked that most about him. That, and the fact that she’d never met a better-looking guy. She felt proud to walk down the hall beside him with all the other girls, even the cheerleaders, looking at her with envy.

  Lena unplugged the curling iron now and stood looking at herself in the mirror. She’d never thought of herself as pretty like her mom, but maybe she wasn’t so bad.

  She put away her things and headed downstairs, hoping that today would be the day Luke asked her to the homecoming dance.

  37

  Today was the day.

  Luke was going to ask her. He’d been thinking about it for days but hadn’t worked up the courage yet. When he and his dad first moved here, he couldn’t have imagined ever wanting to go to the homecoming dance. All he’d wanted was to move back to the city as fast as possible.

  But things were different now. He and his dad were actually talking. About everything. His schoolwork. The books he read for English class. Luke had started helping him work on the house a few afternoons a week. He’d surprised himself by thinking it was kind of fun. They’d even gone out the afternoon before and bought an old truck for the farm together. His dad needed something to haul stuff around on, and he’d said Luke could drive it when he wanted. They’d named it Pokey because it had about as much power as a twenty-year-old lawn mower.

  Things were different. At home and at school. Luke liked Lena. She had to be the coolest girl he’d ever known. And he identified with her. She’d had problems with her mom the same as he’d had with his dad. Whatever the reason, he just liked being with her. He felt as if he could tell her anything, that he could be himself with her.

  He opened his locker and threw his books inside. He was supposed to have met Lena in the cafeteria five minutes ago. He slammed the door and swung around, almost bumping into the two guys standing behind him.

  “Hey,” the tall one said. Luke thought his name was Larry. He had long, stringy hair, and from what Luke knew of him, he spent most of his time in detention hall. The shorter one was Jimmy, or something like that. Like his buddy, he wasn’t one of Jefferson County High’s finest students.

  “Hey,” he said, and moved to step around them.

  Larry caught his arm and stopped him, glancing over his shoulder before saying, “Hey man, we heard you were connected.”

  Luke frowned. “Who told you that?”

  The short guy shrugged. “Grapevine. What difference does it make?”

  “Are you or aren’t you?” Larry prodded.

  Luke stepped back, feeling sick inside. Nobody knew about his past except the principal. Mr. Walters had promised Luke’s dad that the knowledge wouldn’t leave his office. He’d agreed to give Luke a second chance here. That meant there was only one person who had told them. Lena.

  “I don’t know where you got your info, but you’ve got it all wrong,” he said, and then took off down the hall and out of the school.

  38

  Homecoming at Jefferson High always fell on the last weekend in October. Colby had been asked to act as a chaperon at the dance on Saturday night. She felt every bit the fifth wheel as she walked alone into the high school gymnasium at just after seven.

  She would probably be the only adult without a date. Being single had never bothered her the way it seemed to lately. Especially during the past two weeks, when she’d done her best to avoid crossing paths with Ian and yet heard about him at every turn. A stop at Cutter’s Grocery led Maude Cutter to extol the virtues of her cinnamon rolls based on Mr. McKinley’s rave reviews. And a call to Harry Pasley’s farm to help out with another problem delivery meant listening to how he couldn’t get over somebody like that McKinley fella buying that calf as a pet. Needless to say, it had been impossible to erase him from her own thoughts when everyone else insisted on bringing him up.

  She’d planned to drive Lena and Millie to the dance tonight, but that afternoon, Lena announced she was going over to Millie’s to get ready and that Mrs. Mitchell would be taking them.

  If possible, Lena had become even more withdrawn and upset in the past couple of weeks. Colby still hadn’t heard from Doug. She’d told herself she would hold out for a while longer, mainly because she wanted him to contact Lena on his own terms, but also because she didn’t know how to explain it to her daughter if he refused to see her.

  When Colby suggested picking her up after school one afternoon to look for a dress, Lena refused. And when Colby came home a few nights later to find a new one on Lena’s bed, Lena had said she’d gone with Grandma Williams to pick it out.

  Lena’s deliberate attempts to hurt her were clear. She told herself not to dwell on them. Lena herself was hurting, and someone had to be the target of that pain.

  One afternoon when she needed to get away for a while, she drove to Charlottesville by herself, hitting a total of eight stores before she found something suitable for the dance. The dress didn’t sparkle,
and it wasn’t weighed down with frills. Its simplicity caught her eye, black with cap sleeves and a V-neck that hinted at cleavage but didn’t actually reveal any. The skirt fit close against her hips, and even though it was totally different from her normal wardrobe, when she’d glanced in the mirror, she’d realized it flattered her.

  She caught herself wondering if Ian would like it. But she hadn’t bought it with him in mind. He probably wouldn’t even be here.

  She hung her coat on one of the racks in the cloakroom, making her way into the gym. Ian stood by the bleachers, talking with Randall Walters, the high school principal. Since he couldn’t see her watching him, she took advantage of the moment. While most of the men here were far more at home in jeans and work shirts than a suit, Ian looked as if his had been made for him. Dark blue with a tastefully muted tie knotted at his throat. His face was tan from the work he’d been doing outdoors. He definitely stood out among the other men there, but then, he would have stood out most anywhere.

  Memories of the last time she’d seen him alone assaulted her. Her mouth tingled with the recollection of his kiss. Warmth spread through her and set butterflies astir in her midsection.

  He glanced up and caught her staring. She looked away too hastily to be anything but guilty. She headed toward a table set up with punch bowls and poured herself a glass.

  Lena had helped decorate the gym earlier in the day. Balloons hung in clusters from the ceiling. Banners announcing the names of this year’s homecoming queen and king were draped across the front and back of the gymnasium. The one thing conspicuously absent? The band.

  Colby wandered over to a group of parents, most of whom she knew. They all greeted her with smiles. She’d been chatting with them for a couple of minutes when the principal approached them, Ian right behind him.

  “Evening, folks,” Mr. Walters said. “Have most of you met Ian McKinley? His son, Luke, is a senior here this year.”