by Amy Jarecki
Jack gave Rebecca a wink. “But you got a Toy Group First with Bruno? Is there no stopping you, girl?”
The fizz in Rebecca’s beer bubbled all the way down her throat. “I couldn’t be happier with Bruno and I finished my little smooth-coat, Sara, today. I’m ecstatic about that, too. Her belly’s going to start showing soon.”
They polished off her six pack. Oops. There was nothing left for Matt—if he showed up the next day.
Oh well, at least it didn’t go to waste.
***
Matt’s alarm blasted him awake, ensuring an early start for Bloomsburg. Pushing the speed limit, he flew up the Pennsylvania Northeast Extension and headed West at Interstate 80. Becky said that Chihuahuas weren’t on until one o’clock, but he wanted to be there for the whole show to see what it was like. Besides, he looked forward to the chance to watch the woman show her clients’ dogs.
Pulling into the parking lot at nine, he thought he’d made good time, until he realized that the show occupied three buildings of the fairgrounds complex and he had no idea where to find Rebecca. He wandered through the multitude of humanity with their four-footed friends crowded in aisles between the square fenced show rings. With Patches tucked under his arm, he protected the trembling pup from being eaten.
In a daze, he walked in circles, completely lost until a young woman hopped in front of him. “Hi Matt.”
“Amanda?” He did a double take. “I hardly recognized you. You look so grown up.”
She actually smiled and introduced him to her friend. “This is Melissa. We’re lining up for junior showmanship.”
“Hi Melissa,” he said unable to shake hands as they both were holding dogs. “Can I watch your class?”
“Sure.” Amanda turned her attention to her friend and Matt dodged a giant Irish Wolfhound as it bounded past with its anxious handler.
Staying to watch Amanda’s class turned out to be the right move. Rebecca appeared with her client’s Cairn Terrier in tow. She, too, was unbelievably stunning—her long, slender legs stretched down from a skirt that fit her like a glove, accenting her womanly hips. Matt knew she was beautiful but he had no clue that she’d be that stunning out of her jeans and sweatshirt.
He gulped, trying not to stare at her legs. “Becky!”
Her face lit up with an adorable smile. “Hey Matt—you made it.”
“Yeah. Luckily Amanda told me she was about to enter her class.”
“Oh good. I’m glad I didn’t miss it—I’ve been in the ring.”
“Yeah? How’s it going?”
“Fantastic so far.”
He grinned, unable to keep his eyes from traveling down the full length of her unbelievably sexy outfit—business like, but super sexy. “You look beautiful.”
Rebecca gave him a coy smile. “I clean up okay, I guess.”
“Do you always dress up for the shows?”
She nodded, watching Amanda enter the ring. “Absolutely yes, always.”
“I thought showing was about the dog.”
“It is, but you must do everything possible to make the dog look good. If you wear scruffy clothes, what message does it send the judge about your dog?” She eyed him. “Next week I expect to see you in a suit.”
Boy did he love it when she put on her sassy teacher face. Matt couldn’t remember the last time he wore a suit but he had one—maybe he should buy a new one. He looked around and saw a man in a hideous brown and chartreuse plaid jacket with mustard pants topped off by a lime-green bowtie.
I think my navy suit will do just fine.
Amanda placed third in the senior class. Then Matt found a folding chair and watched as Rebecca showed the Cairn Terrier and the Powder Puff Chinese Crested. The Crested took Best of Breed and Rebecca beamed. “He needed a day to get over his nerves. I knew he could do it.”
Matt jumped up with a hug. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks, but that means I’ll have to show him in the Toy Group and I really wanted the recognition for Bruno. He’s ranked in the top ten Chihuahuas and will get an invitation to Westminster if he holds his place.”
“Westminster?”
Rebecca dropped her jaw like Matt had asked her to explain the difference between a Boxer and a Chihuahua. “Only the most important, most revered dog show of the year.”
“Wow.” Matt pointed to the dog crates. “Can Amanda show Bruno?”
“Yes, Amanda will have to show him.”
A bottle-blonde with a snarky smile wandered over for an introduction. “Rebecca, you didn’t tell me you would have a friend here.”
“Hi Barbara.” Rebecca bit her bottom lip. “This is Matt, he attends my conformation classes.”
Matt shook the woman’s hand and Barbara made a show of looking him up-and-down. “You’re quite a catch. Rebecca, you got any more like him hanging around your studio? I think I’m going to have to sign up.”
Matt’s lips thinned. “Sorry, I’m a one-of-a-kind.” Rebecca gave Barbara a warning glare, which made him feel great. He welcomed that subtle flash of jealousy, and felt ever so happy there was no need to admit it.
They set up folding chairs along the ring where the Chihuahuas and other toy dogs were being shown. Rebecca pointed out nuances of showing to Matt who hung on every word.
“See the handler in the yellow blazer with the Maltese?”
“Yeah.”
“She’s leaning so far over the dog that she’s blocking the judge’s view. What do you want to bet he doesn’t place?”
Matt watched the handler. She fawned all over the dog, giving it constant attention, moving paws, combing its hair. She paid no attention to the judge and her cute little dog didn’t place, just as Rebecca predicted.
He looked across the ring at two men holding Papillons who waved enthusiastically. Rebecca fluttered her hand back at them. “Those are my friends Jack and Alan.”
Matt held up a hand acknowledging them, careful not to send the wrong message.
After Alan and Jack showed their Papillons, the ring steward announced Smooth Coat Chihuahuas were up and Matt watched Rebecca win the Bred By class with Sara. When she entered the ring for Winners Bitch, Barbara sauntered in beside Matt’s chair. “So you’re taking Rebecca’s conformation classes?”
“Yeah, she sold me Patches.”
“Oh? I know she was looking forward to showing him. You must be special.”
“Naw, I just drive a hard bargain—and so does she for that matter.”
“Are you here for the weekend?”
“I was thinking of getting a room so I could watch tomorrow. I’m going to show Patches for the first time next week.”
Barbara leaned in so that no one else could hear. “You know you’re the most scandalous news at the show today. Rebecca hasn’t so much as looked at a man since the accident and all of a sudden, Mr. Gorgeous shows up?” She pressed a finger on his shoulder. “Ssssss. You’re a hot number and you better treat that sweetheart right.”
With a thoughtful grin he patted the woman on the shoulder. “It’s good to see Becky’s pals are looking after her, but we’re just friends.”
Matt swiped his hand across his chin. After two more of Rebecca’s friends stopped by with a similar message, he began to feel like a piece of meat. At least they had her back. Every single one made it clear the death of Rebecca’s husband had been devastating and they all wanted nothing more than their friend to be happy.
When it came time for the long coats, Rebecca won Winners Bitch with Fifi, and again had two dogs to show in the Best of Variety class. Rebecca circled in place and threw up her hands. “Where’s Mandy?” She whipped around and focused on Matt. “Put Patches in Fifi’s crate. I need you.”
Matt’s heart leaped to his throat. “What?”
Rebecca shook her finger at her cart of assorted dog crates. “You’re going to show Fifi in the B.O.V. class.”
“Huh?” His mouth turned dry as the Mojave. Fifi? He couldn’t show her. He hadn’t practiced.
&
nbsp; Rebecca pulled her no-bullshit teacher face and stuck her hands on her hips. “What do you think you’ve been taking classes for? Now’s the time to tango, buddy.”
His feet shuffled toward the crates. “But I just came to watch.”
“I’ll put this sweetie where he belongs.” Beaming with a plastic smile, Barbara took Patches and placed him in the crate. “You can do it no problem, she’s a lovely bitch. She can practically show herself.”
Rebecca slipped Fifi’s number on Matt’s arm and handed him the lead. “You follow the Winners Dog. Last in. Got it?”
Matt had no time to respond as Rebecca turned with Bruno and paraded into the ring with all the confidence of a movie star. Barbara nodded her head with encouragement, reminding Matt of a bobbing clown after it springs out of a jack-in-the-box. Leading a dog—no, a bitch—he had never handled before, he tripped into the ring as the steward called his number.
“Once around,” the judge said in a tone that was difficult to discern. Luckily, Matt lined up last and followed the class as they led their dogs around the ring. Relieved that he chose a collared shirt that morning to wear with his jeans, he looked down at Fifi. She walked slower than Patches and he found it too easy to drag her. He shortened his stride, feeling like a waddling duck. Regardless, he tried not to show his discomfort by smiling and looking at the judge. Rebecca’s voice shouted in his head; “keep one eye on the dog and one eye on the judge”.
Using a piece of dried liver as bait, Matt’s palms perspired as he frantically struggled to showcase Fifi and get her to stack. She refused to pay attention and tugged on the lead, distracted by Rebecca and Bruno. Patches barked in the crate and Fifi let out a high pitched yip. Trying to gain some control, he led Fifi around in a circle.
Fortunately, the judge didn’t notice all the antics, as she was occupied examining the three champions.
Matt continued to turn in circles with the bitch when the judge ordered him and the Winners Dog to line up behind the champions who were now showcasing on the opposite side of the ring. Matt threw a panicked expression toward Rebecca and with a little too much force, pulled Fifi into place. He half expected her to belt out commands like she did in the classroom but she just glared as if she were trying to send him instructions via ESP.
Under the discerning eye of the judge, the group made one more lap around the ring. The judge pointed at Bruno. “Best of Breed.” Next she pointed at a fawn colored champion and said, “Best of Opposite.” And finally she pointed at Matt and boomed, “Best of Winners.”
“What?” Matt asked.
“Line up there,” Rebecca said, nodding toward the blue sign posted on the white fence of the ring that read “Best of Winners.”
Matt studied the placards. Rebecca stood in front of one that read “Best of Breed” followed by the woman who stood in front of “Best of Opposite.”
Ah, the three placements Rebecca told me about. This isn’t all that confusing.
The Judge gave Matt a blue-and-white ribbon and shook his hand. Matt grinned like a Madd Comic. “That’s the first time I’ve ever been in the ring.”
The judge patted him on the shoulder. “The bitch had the best conformation but you could use a little work.”
Rebecca pulled him out of the ring and gave him a sisterly squeeze. “You were great. It’s hard to go in there with a dog you don’t know.”
“The judge said I need work.”
“Don’t worry about that. Judge Parker thinks everyone needs work.”
Rebecca had a break in the program to find Amanda and prepare for the Group classes. Matt breathed a sigh of relief that Rebecca didn’t ask him to take Bruno into the big class. He figured the judge would have kicked him out because of his jeans or worse.
Later, he enjoyed watching the Group classes and admired Rebecca’s gazelle-like movement as she worked with her dogs in effortless harmony. He wondered how long it would be before showing would come as naturally to him.
And how much longer before I do something unbelievably stupid like pouring my heart out to that remarkable woman?
Chapter Six
Gaining a reprieve from cooking in the motorhome, Rebecca jumped at the opportunity when Matt suggested going out for dinner. However, fine dining in the small farming community of Bloomsburg was in short supply. They drove past a plethora of fast food restaurants and settled for Balzano’s Italian Kitchen after a quick five-minute jaunt through the not-so-vast metropolis on Main Street. Though invited, Amanda opted to stay behind with her friends.
Once they ordered and Matt chose a bottle of Chianti, Rebecca sat back in her chair and let out a long breath. “Amanda got second place in obedience with Gordo and I was really happy with her third in the senior class. There are so many kids in the class and any one of them could have won.” She took a sip of water. “You know, by the time the kids get into seniors, they’re all ready to be professional handlers. I really don’t know how the judges can place the class.”
“I sure couldn’t have picked one. I guess maybe I would have chosen Amanda because I knew her.”
“That happens more than you think. Junior Show is very political. Anyway, next month is her last as a junior handler.”
“Oh? Why?”
“She’ll be eighteen on December ninth and once you hit eighteen you’re too old to be a junior. She’s looking forward to it though. She says she’ll be able to start charging for handling other people’s dogs, including mine.”
“So why did she stay in juniors rather than turn pro?”
“Scholarships.”
“Ah, I see.”
Rebecca smiled while she watched the waitress pour the wine. Matt placed his hand over hers and she let it rest there, ignoring the quick flutter of her heart. She liked the secure warmth of his large hand covering hers. Oddly, she felt no jitters, no nerves. Matt opened his mouth to speak when her phone rang. With an apologetic glance, Rebecca slipped her hand away to dig in her purse. “Hello?”
“Rebecca? This is Marlene.” Jason’s mom. The mom in charge of her son for the weekend.
The hairs on her nape stood on end.
“Ryan was out on his bike and was hit by a car.”
A sickly knot gripped Rebecca’s gut. “Oh my God.”
“Don’t worry, he’s okay, but we called an ambulance just to be safe.”
Her heart nearly pounded out of her chest. “What do you mean he’s okay?”
“Ryan said he was fine, but I’m worried about his ankle. We’re driving behind the ambulance now—nearly to Virtua.”
Rebecca clutched her purse and shoved the chair back. “I’m three hours away. Tell him I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
Matt stood. “What?”
Rebecca tossed the phone in her purse. “Ryan was riding his bike and was hit by a car. They called an ambulance and he’s on the way to the hospital.”
“Ah, hell.” Matt shoved his keys across the table. “Take my car. I’ll go back and pack up the motor home and find Amanda.”
“You sure?”
“Absolutely.” He flicked his hand at her. “Take the keys. Go. I got this.”
“Thanks.”
He grasped her shoulders and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Call me as soon as you know something. And drive safely. Don’t take any chances.”
Rebecca snatched up the keys and raced out the door. She never should have allowed Ryan to stay with his friend Jason. With any friend, really. Jason’s mother had said Ryan was okay. What did that mean?
Oh God. Please take care of my baby until I can get there.
Speeding down the freeway, horrific images tormented her mind. What if he had a brain hemorrhage? What if something was broken? What would she do if he died?
“Dammit, Henry, I need you here. Why did you leave me? Why, why, why?”
Tears streamed down her cheeks, her nose dribbling. She sobbed as she drove the three hours, weaving in and out of traffic on the turnpike, flooring the accelerator at eve
ry straight stretch of road. She couldn’t get there fast enough. Ryan needed her. If he had come to the dog show, this wouldn’t have happened.
Dammit.
***
Matt paid for the uneaten meal and called a taxi to take him back to the fairgrounds. He found Amanda at the motor home. She folded her arms when she saw him, the friendly girl who greeted him at the show ring had disappeared. “Where’s Mom?”
He wasn’t about to take her sass. Not this time. “Ryan was hit by a car. Your mom took my SUV and is headed for the hospital.”
“God, Ryan? We need to leave now.”
“Yes we do. Help me pack up. I don’t know where half this stuff goes.”
“Why didn’t Momma come back for me? Why’d she leave me here with you?” Amanda stood with her hands on her hips, not moving a muscle to help.
Matt struggled to fold up an ex-pen, while his gut wrenched with a burning fire.
How can that little snot stand there and be argumentative at a time like this?
He shoved the half folded cage into the ground and faced her. “Right now your brother needs your mom more than you do. It’s time to put your self-centered, opinionated bull-crap behind you and step it up. The only thing you can do to help your mother at the moment is to get this brick-on-wheels packed up so I can drive you to the hospital to see your brother. Are you going to help me or not?”
Amanda’s bottom lip trembled. Holy shit, she started to cry. “You don’t have to be such an asshole about it.” She sniffled while she worked but it was three times as fast with her helping.
Crying? Great, Amanda would hate him even more now. Matt was so much more comfortable around Ryan. The antics of a teenage girl twisted his head in knots. Jeez, she was worse than Monica. But still, he’d done the right thing. He wasn’t about to let her stand there and tap her foot. She’d left him no choice but to bark at her—a boy he could cuff on the shoulder and tell him to pull his head out of his ass—a girl? Only God knew what to do.
In ten minutes, they had the motor home disconnected from the power, loaded and ready to roll. Once on the road, an hour passed without a word, then Amanda blew her nose. “Is Ryan going to be okay?”
