by Amy Jarecki
A familiar hollow chasm spread through Rebecca’s chest. The past two years hadn’t been easy for any of them. “I know, baby. So do I. But other guys have bought dogs and have taken classes and you haven’t had this kind of response.”
“Yeah, well the other guys don’t have shiny eyes and a cute smile like he does. God, Momma, what if he likes you?”
“Hmm.” Rebecca rocked back on her haunches. Nothing like having a kid jump to conclusions. “Well, I can assure you like has not even been discussed. You know my first priority is you and your brother.”
Amanda continued to stare at the floor. Another tear spilled from her eye. “Momma?”
“Yes.”
“I can’t handle the thought of you having a boyfriend. It would be like stomping on Dad’s memory.”
Rebecca’s gut knotted. She sat quietly with her hands folded, trying to think of a rational response.
A boyfriend? Yeah right.
This was one of those moments when she wished Amanda had come with an owner’s manual. With a sigh, she recalled the advice her own father had given her a long time ago, “less is more”. She leaned her head toward Amanda’s ear and whispered, “We will never stomp on the memory of your father. Not ever.”
Rebecca closed the door when she left Amanda’s room. Teenagers had the most irrational rationale. She could do nothing but shake her head.
How long has Mandy been seeing Sean? It’s got to be at least eighteen months. Why can she run around with a boyfriend but freaks out if a man simply stays for dinner after working out with Ryan?
Unbelievable.
***
The conformation class went much like the last one, but Matt had obviously practiced. And it didn’t take a discerning eye to tell that he was a natural athlete simply by the way he moved. He had a certain swagger that said I’m a tough guy, and I don’t need to tell anyone.
Amanda stayed in her room, so Rebecca had no choice but to keep the big dogs with the little ones. Luckily, there was a seasoned handler with a chocolate long coat Chihuahua who volunteered to be at the end of the line with all dogs stacked according to height. When the Great Dane and its handler finished his pattern and went around to the end, he wouldn’t try to eat Patches. No the Great Dane would only want to play with chocolate long coat. But at least the handler knew to not allow the dogs to get too close.
Rebecca started the class. “Everyone around. Little dogs make a smaller circle in the middle. Run the big dogs on the outside.” Watching with a discerning eye, she barked orders. “Don’t let that Border Collie get ahead of you. Stop dragging the Dachshund. Matt, watch your dog, adjust your stride to meet his. Patches should never break into a run.”
She had them stop and stack their dogs. Walking down the line like a judge, she eyed the puppies, taking in both the good and bad handling on display. She didn’t say a word while the handlers showcased their breeds just as if they were in a real show—that is if they all practiced.
Rebecca cast her gaze to the ceiling when she got to the end of the line where no one could see. She expected perfection, and she expected her students to practice. She snapped around and caught a Rhodesian Ridgeback jumping up on his handler. “Get that Ridgeback under control. The judge just saw that.”
Next she stopped at each dog. “Fix the front. Look at the Border Collie’s paws, are they even? You must ensure the judge is looking at a perfect stack. You’re going to be up against professional handlers and a perfect stack is second nature to them. Don’t let the dog gnaw on the bait, it’s a pet peeve of all judges, in fact, don’t let the judge see you give the dog a treat.”
Rebecca walked back down the line, this time clucking to get each dog’s attention to observe their inquisitive expressions. She stopped at Matt. “Nice.” Matt beamed and looked at the woman next to him who nodded with approval.
For a moment, she thought to run her hand over the top of his head. Definitely not a professional thought.
Get a grip.
Sucking in a deep breath, she headed to the center of the ring and set up the table. “Time to showcase your dogs, people.”
Onward the class proceeded while she tried to ignore Matt—which was completely impossible when he put Patches on the table. Dear Lord, the man even smelled like new leather, wearing his white t-shirt. Maybe she should suggest he buy the next size up so he wouldn’t be quite so distracting.
At the end of class, Rebecca addressed the class. “If anyone is going to the Bloomsburg dog show next weekend, I’ll be set up by the toy dog rings. And don’t forget, the entries are now closed for the Philadelphia show.”
“When is it?” a student asked.
“Two weeks out.”
Matt again hung back. “Can I help with chores?”
She stiffened against the fluttering in the pit of her stomach.
What would the kids think? He stayed for dinner—I can’t encourage him too much.
“It’s awful nice of you to offer but you’ve already done so much, working with Ryan.”
His lips twisted. “You sure? I don’t mind.”
Rebecca couldn’t meet his gaze, her nerves jumping across her skin. “Probably best if I don’t get into the habit of your staying. It would spoil me too much.”
“Okay, but I want to go to Ryan’s game tomorrow. Can I pick you up?” Smiling, he bent down and forced her to look at his hopeful eyes.
Rebecca sighed. God, it was near impossible to resist those baby blues. After all, it was just a high school football game. “How about we meet there? It starts at seven—Shawnee High School.”
“I’ll be there.” He waggled his head and smiled even wider. “And what did you say about the Bloomsburg dog show? Can I take Patches?”
“Patches will be one week too young for Bloomsburg. That’s why I entered him into the Philly shows a week later. It might be good for you to watch, though, and bring Patches too.” She went over to the desk, picked up a brochure and handed it to him. “I keep a few show brochures on the desk when I can get them. This one’s for Back Mountain Kennel Club in Bloomsburg, Pennsylvania.”
***
Driving home, Matt drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Had he done something wrong? Rebecca seemed more uptight after dinner…and Amanda’s incessant eye-rolls. Heck, she didn’t even want him to stay and help.
That’s probably for the best.
But damn, he enjoyed watching the supple curves of her bottom as she walked away in class and tonight he’d discovered she could cook—boy, could she. He imagined her in an apron—only an apron—and felt a strong pull of desire.
Oh no, we’re not going there, remember? Focus on the road, you bum.
He forced his thoughts back to Amanda, a surefire way to block any and all amorous feelings. He’d never dated anyone with teenaged kids, and that girl was a quandary.
Why the hell is she so hostile? Cripes, girls love me. Maybe I’m losing my charm? But seriously, is she overly protective of her mom?
After flipping the blinker on, he turned into his condo complex.
Crap, am I the reason she didn’t to come to class? Do I need to give her some time? Yep. I definitely need to give the whole thing time. I’ve got a business to run, not a family to fix.
Once home, Matt fed Patches and opened the Back Mountain Kennel Club brochure. The show was Friday to Sunday. Sitting on the lone stool at the kitchen counter, he flipped on his laptop, checked his calendar and saw that he had an important meeting on Friday, but blocked out the weekend for the show. Opening Google Maps, the shortest route would take a good three hours, which meant he’d need to book a room as well.
He lifted Patches into his lap and gave him a scratch behind the ears. “We’re going on a road trip, buddy. It’s time to check out a real dog show. You up for it?” Patches wagged his tail and licked Matt’s hand. “That dried liver is pretty tasty, isn’t it? But you already had enough treats in class. Rebecca warned me not to overfeed you, otherwise your show caree
r will be over before it starts.”
Matt carried Patches to the couch and clicked on the TV. The little dog circled in his lap and curled up, instantly asleep.
I wish I could fall asleep that fast.
***
One thing Rebecca liked about her evening chores was it gave her time to think. As she put the dogs outside, she leaned on the doorjamb. Matt’s easy-going approach with Ryan was exactly what the boy had been missing. The pair of them laughed and hit it off like they had been friends for a decade.
Ryan had a ton of natural talent, but in a couple of hours she watched him go from good to outstanding. What a help Matt could be to Ryan’s football dreams. A former Rose Bowl star? All Ryan could talk about was football. It would be a dream-come-true if Matt could help him get a scholarship to a big university.
Pushing the mop around the studio, she mulled over the situation with Amanda. A hot rush of embarrassment burned her cheeks. If Mandy kept up with her less-than-subtle remarks, Matt wouldn’t be around for long. That was a certainty.
Of course losing Matt’s friendship would hurt Ryan far more than it would hurt me.
She brushed a curl out of her eye, then pushed the mop harder
Right. He’s good for Ryan.
Wiping down the dog crates, she puzzled over how to bring Amanda around—for Ryan’s sake of course. The direct approach would be met with obstinate, uncooperative ire. However, Amanda had protective feelings for her brother, though they fought like Tasmanian devils. If Amanda realized how much Matt could help Ryan, she might back off a little.
Dumping the mop water down the dog bath, Rebecca let out a long sigh. Managing a family had been much easier when Henry was there to parent with her. When they took a stance on something, they could discuss it and support each other—most of the time. Being a single mom was a hell-of-a-lot more work. Nearly every day, Rebecca wondered if she was doing the right things. Henry left them at such a bad time. Solving problems of a pre-teen seemed like nothing compared to teenagers.
Rebecca raked her fingers through her mop of hair.
Sometimes I feel like I’m losing my mind.
She opened the door to let the dogs to run around the studio for a few minutes. A picture of nine-year-old Amanda winning her first junior showmanship class caught her eye. Rebecca’s heart squeezed—those carefree days were gone. Amanda would graduate in the spring.
Would Matt still be hanging around then?
Probably not.
Dammit, none of this would be a problem if Henry were still here. Besides, I just can’t set myself up to get hurt again.
Could I?
Oh, for heaven’s sake. Absolutely not.
She plopped down on the floor calling to her pups. They all excitedly volleyed for real estate on Momma’s lap. Rebecca chuckled, giving each one a scratch. As always, Bruno wanted to be singled out and pushed Fifi aside while Sara nipped him on the hock.
Rebecca reached for an octopus squeaky toy that had eight legs to grab onto. She squeaked the ends and the dogs chomped down, joining in a playful tug-o-war of fur. Sara, who was usually the feistiest, climbed into Rebecca’s lap wanting to cuddle.
What a darling, and Rebecca had just received confirmation that Sara was pregnant. She rubbed the Chihuahua’s belly. “You doing okay, sweetie?” Sara’s huge eyes focused on Rebecca adoringly, pulling at her heart.
She chuckled. “Well, no matter what happens, I have you lot to keep me busy.”
Chapter Four
Sean arrived to pick up Amanda for the football game, honking his horn out in the driveway. Amanda hollered from her room. “Tell him I’m almost ready.”
“Take your time.” Rebecca snatched her coat from the hall closet.
I’ll give that little snot a piece of my mind.
She stomped to his growling red Mustang and rapped on the window.
Rolling it down, Sean’s blond head peered up at her with a thin-lipped smirk. “S-up Ms. Lee?”
Rebecca pulled her coat tighter, clenching her fist. “If you want to see Amanda, you’ll shut off your engine and come up to the house. Didn’t your parents teach you anything about manners?”
As he rolled up the window, she caught his remark. “Screw that.”
Rebecca whipped around and shook her finger. “I heard you.” But as she strode back into the house, Sean cut the engine and got his lazy butt out of the car.
Once he reached the porch, she opened the door. “That’s better.”
“Uh. Yeah. Where’s Mandy?”
“Here I am.” Amanda skipped down the stairs, giving the undeserving boyfriend a peck on the lips.
Rebecca folded her arms. “I’ll see you at the game.”
The two dashed away, Sean revving his Mustang, peeling out of the driveway, leaving Rebecca alone.
Zipping up her coat, she breathed a sigh of relief that she didn’t have a dog show this weekend. She tried to make as many of Ryan’s games as possible but he understood that, in order for her to put food on the table, Rebecca often had a show Friday through Sunday. When they were younger, the kids accompanied her in the motor home and they both showed their Chihuahuas in junior showmanship. Amanda still came along most of the time, but Ryan lost interest a few years back and stayed with friends or Rebecca’s mother.
After driving to the high school, Rebecca stepped out of the car and shivered at the early November chill. With her Shawnee number twenty-six jersey pulled over her coat, she’d arrived early enough to get a choice seat in the parents’ section and plopped on her Chihuahua cushion. She had another pad from Penn State that she brought in case Matt showed up, but she put it on the ground and placed her purse on the seat beside her, afraid she might look obviously desperate sitting next to an empty cushion.
Also, if Amanda were to stop by, Rebecca wanted to avoid any assumptions that might make it appear she was looking forward to seeing Matt. Silly, she knew, the mother covering up so that the daughter didn’t know she was looking forward to sitting with a friend for a change. Regardless the parents’ section was a raucous group and Rebecca never felt alone when she attended one of Ryan’s games.
People passed with friendly nods as they filled the stands. She’d seen most of them before. They all greeted her more or less, but no one ever asked her to join them. Typical in a highly populated area of the country—nobody pays much thought to the grieving widow sitting alone. The band marched onto the field for a pre-game performance and Rebecca tried not to think about Matt, turning her attention to the show. She’d always wondered how the kids could march with their knees lifting so high and still have breath to play their instruments.
When they finished their performance, Rebecca applauded, nonchalantly glancing around the growing crowd. She frowned as her shoulders sagged. She should have guessed. Matt was nowhere to be seen.
When the Lenape Indians ran onto the field, cheers in the visitors’ stands were met by fierce boos from the Shawnee student section. Though Rebecca jumped up and cheered when her team appeared, sporting white jerseys with navy numbers and the Shawnee name. “Go Renegades!”
“There you are,” a familiar voice chimed seemingly from nowhere.
Rebecca’s knees nearly gave way when she looked up to see Matt’s friendly grin. He put his arm around her, giving a quick sideways hug. “Glad I finally found you.”
The squeeze caught Rebecca a little off guard, but if Matt were her brother, she would have received a similar greeting. “I thought you might not come.” She bent down and put the Penn State cushion on the aluminum bench, looking at him a little longer than necessary. “I brought you something to sit on.”
Matt plopped down beside her. “Thanks. I would’ve been here sooner but I got caught in the student section. Your daughter kindly suggested that I head over here.”
“Oh dear.” Rebecca cringed. “I hope she was civil.”
He snorted. “At least she didn’t point me toward the parking lot.”
Seeing her son,
Rebecca sprang to her feet. “Look, there’s Ryan, number twenty-six.” Grinning she turned and pointed to her jersey so Matt could see she was wearing the same number.
He gave her a high five. “You rock!”
The Renegades lined up to return the kickoff. Good—they’d have the ball first. After watching a nice run back to Lenape’s forty yard line, Rebecca and Matt jumped to their feet. She pointed at the huddle. “Hey, look, Ryan’s starting. He didn’t tell me that.”
Matt smiled down at her and gave her another “brotherly” squeeze. “He’s ready.”
Her skin tingled. God, it was great to have someone to cheer with. “Woo hoo! Go Ryan!”
The first play, a run gaining three yards, was followed by another run with a gain of one. Now third down, they needed six yards to make first-and-ten. Matt leaned toward her ear. “They’re gonna have to pass.”
Rebecca looked at him and gritted her teeth with a nervous smile. “Come on Renegades, first down!”
They watched as the quarterback faked the handoff. Ryan ran straight up the seam, his defender all over him. Just like Matt had coached, when the defender’s hips turned left, Ryan pivoted and cut right, leaving the red-and-white defender several paces behind. The quarterback released the ball. It went wide right. Ryan stretched his body out, diving for it, stretching his hands out for the catch. The ball looked too far to reach, but Ryan’s gloved hands plucked it right before it hit the ground. He pulled the ball into his chest as he pounded into the turf and rolled.
The crowd erupted as if they’d scored. Jumping with excitement, Rebecca spun to Matt. “Did you see that.”
“That was freaking awesome.” He wrapped her in a smothering bear hug, followed by a high-five. “He did it, my play and that was a lousy throw he caught. I’ve seen pros who could have missed that catch.”
“Yeah?” Rebecca asked, breathless in her excitement, ready for another hug.
“The boy’s got talent, Becky, that’s for sure.”
Rebecca’s smile waned. Becky? That’s what Henry used to call her, but so had everyone else until that night. She hesitated and decided to let it pass.
