by Amy Jarecki
They handed their passes to the stewards who allowed them behind the curtain—a quiet place away from reporters where they could prepare for a few minutes. Matt shook hands with the contestants and wished them well.
“That was nice,” Rebecca whispered, straightening his tie.
“The first rule of good sportsmanship—shake hands before you go out on the field and tear ’em apart.”
A steward stepped up and called for attention. “Handlers, when your breed is called you will enter the ring leading your dog in front of the judge’s table, then you will proceed to your breed box, showcasing in front of it. Once each contestant is in place, the announcer will call for the next dog. Remain behind the curtain until you’re called.”
As the curtain opened a deep booming voice echoed from the loud speaker. “From the Sporting Group, the German Shorthaired Pointer…From the Hound Group, the Afghan Hound…From the Working Group, the Great Pyrenees…From the Terrier Group, the Welsh Terrier.”
Matt watched the famous Riccardo run into the ring, handling the terrier.
“From the Herding Group, the Old English Sheepdog…From the Toy Group, the Long Coat Chihuahua.”
“Good luck,” Matt said, watching Rebecca head through the curtains with Bruno. He sighed, enjoying the view when she walked away, knowing he’d be right behind her. He wished he could just stand there and watch those slender legs escort the saucy little guy around the ring.
“And From the Non-Sporting Group, the Lhasa Apso.” Last out of the starting gate, Matt stretched to his full height, his long strides matching Maurice’s. The little dog’s long fur feathered and skirted the green carpet to the exuberant whistles and cheers of the packed crowd.
Was it my imagination or were the cheers louder for Maurice? Nah, the cheers were muffled by the curtain. I’m way out of my league here.
Judge George Midget, a tall man hunched by the weathering of time, appeared to be close to eighty. He stood in the center of the ring critically eyeing the Lhasa Apso as they made their entrance.
Cameras flashed and TV cameramen lined the ring. Matt’s mouth instantly dry, he glanced around with a fixed smile in place. He located the yellow box with the Lhasa Apso signage only about twenty-five paces away.
I’m glad I don’t have my left shoe on my right foot now.
He couldn’t help but chuckle.
Arriving at the box, he free-stacked the Lhasa, glancing back at Rebecca. Her eyes fixed on Bruno, she gave him a quick nod using her peripherals. Judge Midget paraded down the line of dogs, stopping at each one with a critical eye.
He called out the German Shorthaired Pointer and the announcer launched into a spiel about the breed while the judge examined the dog. “The origin of the German Shorthaired Pointer dates back to the German Bird Dog…”
The end of the oration was the cue for the judge to send them down-and-back. Since it was a sporting dog, the handler ran with wide stretching strides. On the return he free stacked the dog, tossing a squeaky toy in the air to grab his attention while Judge Midget walked around the duo with a critical eye.
Matt gaped as the canine contestants paraded with their fine grooming and excellent conformation. Goosebumps prickled his skin when he watched the Afghan, beautiful, aloof and exotic, his fur billowing gracefully as he executed the pattern.
The Old English Sheepdog looked like a giant cotton ball, and the Great Pyrenees seemed as big as a horse compared to the small dogs he and Rebecca worked with. When Riccardo stepped up with his Welsh Terrier, Matt’s jaw dropped at the intelligence and focus of the dog. The announcer roared. “The Welsh Terrier was originally known as the Old English Terrier. Their native home is Wales where they are extensively used for sport. This breed loves to swim and dig, always looking for action and entertainment.”
Riccardo dashed down and back with the enthusiastic dog, his keen expression following Riccardo’s every cue, his stack statuesque.
Matt’s palms moistened when Rebecca stepped up, putting Bruno on the table, smiling pleasantly at Judge Midget. It looked like he recognized her and said something that made her giggle. As graceful as a prima ballerina in her beautifully tailored satin suit, her red curls pinned up in a French roll, Rebecca could pass for a runway model with the saucy little dog prancing at her feet.
How did I make it here with all these pros?
The ring steward cued Matt to stack Maurice on the table. “The Lhasa Apso guarded the homes of Tibetan nobility hundreds of years ago in the isolated caverns of the Himalayan Mountains. A small, hardy breed with a beautiful cloak of hair, parted down the center of its back. An aloof dog with his own sense of the world, welcome the Lhasa Apso.”
Maurice needed no baiting while the judged examined him. Rebecca trained him to stand obediently with his head forward. “Down-and-back please,” Judge Midget asked for the seventh time. Matt cast his mind back to the lessons at the shed while he easily strode down the ring, blinded by stage lights and camera flashes. Maurice could have executed the pattern by himself and he stopped before the judge, his dark, soulful eyes shrouded with long silky hair. The judge smiled. “Take him around please.”
All dogs moved to the front of their boxes where the handlers showcased them, a tense, nervous hush filling the enormous arena. Matt stacked Maurice, slipping a piece of liver under his nose to entice his interest. Judge Midget slowly walked down the line of dogs, hesitating and looking at the Afghan, followed by a long stare at the Welsh Terrier. He stopped and smiled at Bruno. “Nice.” Judge Midget nodded pleasantly at the Lhasa and headed to the judges table, his decision made.
Heart pounding at his temples, Matt glanced at Rebecca who still worked, showcasing Bruno. He teased Maurice with the liver again, tension building, the audience silent.
Matt sucked in a deep, nervous breath when the judge returned to the ring with an entourage, bearing a huge trophy and a purple-and-gold ribbon. A stream of perspiration ran down his forehead.
Judge Midget stood before the microphone. “This was the most difficult Best in Show competition I have ever had the honor of judging. All of the contestants were outstanding, but tonight, Best in Show of the Westminster Kennel Club goes to the Welsh Terrier!” Riccardo pumped his fist in the air and raced to the center of the ring to claim his prize. Matt glanced at Rebecca as they made their way to congratulate the winner.
Matt shook Riccardo’s hand. “Congratulations. Your dog has the best focus I’ve ever seen.”
“Thank you,” he replied, shaking all of the offered hands as customary.
***
Jack and Alan met them in the benching gallery, now nearly empty. “You guys were fantastic,” Alan said.
Rebecca’s head pounded with the pressure from exhaustion. “Thanks. It was a great experience for both of us, and you guys did well too. Jeez, a group third?”
Matt fastened the crates to the dolly with a bungee cord. “In my mind we all won. Just getting here and being a part of the experience is a win. Placement in a class is a bigger win. Getting to make an appearance in a group class and being on national television is a major win.”
Alan agreed. “I can see you get it, and you’re only a greenie. I’ve been showing my entire life and I’ve never been in the Best in Show class at Westminster. You’ve got to be one of the luckiest men on earth.”
Rebecca led the way to the silver limo that waited outside the circular building. Matt placed his hand on her shoulder as a black town car rolled up with the backseat window down. “Too bad you missed another chance to make out on TV.” Monica’s shrill voice cut through the wind.
Rebecca’s head snapped up. Without thinking, she darted for the car. “Why don’t you go put some ice on those puffy lips of yours? It appears they’ve swollen from all your bullshit!”
“Well I never…” Monica’s rant faded in the distance as the car sped away.
Matt roared with laughter. “Ooo baby, pull in those talons. Where’d that come from?”
Rebecca
whipped around. “Shut up.” She chuckled. “She looked pretty mad, didn’t she?”
“She was livid.”
“I’ve got no idea what you see in her.”
“Saw.” Matt corrected.
Guido hopped out to help load the crates. When Rebecca sat, her feet throbbed and her head swooned. “I can’t believe we have to drive all the way back to Medford.”
“I can’t believe it’s over. It seems surreal, like a fairytale and tomorrow we’ll be back at work. Hardly seems fair.”
Alan groaned. “Don’t remind me. I’m still perfectly happy living in my fantasy.”
“Your entire life is a fantasy.” Jack rolled his eyes and laughed. He turned to Rebecca. “How’re you planning to handle all the new business that’s coming your way?”
Rebecca started to speak but Matt leaned forward. “She’s got Amanda and me.”
Jack shrugged. “Don’t forget to send your overflow of clients to us.”
“Sure will.” Rebecca leaned her head back and closed her eyes. This being a Sunday evening, there was little traffic going through the Lincoln Tunnel and Rebecca felt like she’d only started to relax when they had to get up and transfer the dogs to Matt’s Lexus.
“You want to get a cup of coffee before we get on the turnpike? You look bushed,” Matt said.
“No. It’s late and I just want to get home.”
Rebecca reached in her purse and pulled out her vibrating phone. “Hello? Momma?”
“Oh good. I’m glad I didn’t get your voice mail.” Maude’s voice sounded strained.
Rebecca’s gut clenched. “What’s happened?”
“It’s Mandy. She got kicked out and I had to drive to Wildwood to pick her up.”
“What? Why?”
“The little tart was caught having sex with that useless dumb shit she calls a boyfriend.”
“Oh for Christ’s sake.” Rebecca turned her shoulder away from Matt. “Can you handle it until I get there?”
“Of course, she’s upstairs hiding in her room.”
“Tell her I’m mad as a hornet and she’s on restriction for the rest of her life.”
“That’s not long enough if you ask me.”
“I’ll be home in a couple hours—Sorry you had to be saddled with this, Momma.”
Rebecca’s jaw clenched as she clicked her phone off.
“What?” Matt asked.
“Amanda was caught with Sean and Momma had to drive to the Shore to pick her up.”
“Caught?”
“Yes. She was caught.”
Matt gripped the steering wheel with both hands. “How long have she and Sean been going out?”
“A couple of years.”
Matt nodded.
Rebecca threw her phone into her purse. “I knew she was having sex with that boy. Dammit!”
“Does she have protection?”
“Yes, she’s on the pill to control her PMS, thank God.”
“It’s got to be hard for you. Teenaged kids do that stuff, but you never want to think your kid would stoop so low.”
“That’s right. My kids were taught to wait until they’re married.” Rebecca balled her fists. Matt certainly wasn’t helping. “And you don’t have to talk about Amanda like she’s some sort of tramp!”
“I didn’t infer…”
“Yes you did.”
“Fine.” Matt flicked on the radio.
Great. Country Western.
Rebecca fumed. Matt could just keep his mouth shut.
He stared straight ahead until he signaled for the exit. “How do you want to play it when we get to your house?”
“Let’s unpack, then I’ll go up and talk to her.”
“Okay. Anything I can do?”
“No. I’ve got to handle this alone.”
Matt knit his brows. “You okay?”
She shook her head. “Just thinking about Mandy.”
Matt reached across the console and grasped her hand. “It’s got to be bothering you.”
“It is. I’ve tried to set a good example. I haven’t dated. I kept you at bay for months. I’d be absolutely mortified if the kids found out that we shared a room.”
Matt threaded his fingers through hers. “Help me understand. Exactly how does Mandy’s mistake at the Shore have anything to do with us?”
Rebecca’s head spun with a myriad of reasons why she should feel guilty, why she shouldn’t have let her guard down, why she never should have given in and shared a room. “I don’t know. Like I said, the kids are one reason why I haven’t dated.”
“Okay. You haven’t dated, but kids still make mistakes. How old were you when you lost your virginity?”
“Excuse me?”
“You don’t have to answer that. All I’m trying to say is that kids go through puberty and start having sex. That’s why you wanted me to have ‘the’ talk with Ryan. Our relationship has nothing to do with puberty or teenaged mistakes.”
“Yeah, but my kids are a part of me.”
“Sure they are, but they’re your kids, not your life. You’re responsible to give them a good home, love, food, parenting, but they can’t control you.”
Rebecca had enough. “You sit there all self-righteous, talking about how I should be parenting. But what makes you such a goddamned expert?”
“I…”
“No! You have no right to tell me how to raise my kids or whether I should date or not. Look at you, you’re forty years old. You’ve been a playboy all your life. You can’t even commit to a relationship.”
As soon as the words escaped her mouth, Rebecca wished she could take them back. But he’d pushed her too far.
Aside from the tick above Matt’s eye, he gave no hint of anger until he drove into the driveway as if he were about to plough through the house. Screeching to a jarring stop he turned and faced her. “It’s over. Go in there and sort out your life. I’m offloading the dogs and then I’ll be out of your hair for good.”
Rebecca stared at him, a hole the size of her fist tearing through her heart. Shaking, she yanked on the latch and fled into the house.
***
Rebecca hesitated outside Amanda’s door, wringing her hands, trying to choke back her own raw emotions. She jumped when Ryan burst out of his room. “Mom? When’d you get home?” He gave her a bear hug.
“Just arrived.”
“Where’s Matt?”
“Unloading the car. You should go help him.”
So he can get the hell out of here.
Rebecca tapped on the door as she turned the knob. “Amanda Ruth?”
“Yeah?” Amanda crouched on her bed, her thick brown hair snarled, no makeup, wearing a pair of grey sweats that looked like she’d lived in them for days.
Amanda obviously felt more than a little bad about her expulsion from the senior trip. Pulling her thoughts together, Rebecca sat at the opposite end of the bed. “So. Tell me what happened.”
Amanda gasped. “I know Grandma told you.”
“Yes, she told me what the principal said, which probably isn’t the whole story.”
“Just give me my punishment and get it over with.”
Rebecca looked at the floor and pulled the comb out of her French roll. “First, I didn’t come up here to simply dish out punishment. Second, we need to talk and I’m not going anywhere until we do.”
Amanda folded her arms and stared across the room.
Rebecca inhaled deeply, willing herself to continue. “Tell me how you feel right now.”
“How do I feel? I’m as mad as hell.”
“I can understand that. Who are you mad at?”
“I’m mad at Mrs. Smith, the principal, Grandma, you, everyone who thinks it’s so wrong to love someone. I’m eighteen, Momma. I’m a damn adult!”
Rebecca nodded.
She’s proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt.
Looking into her daughter’s fiery eyes helped her maintain control and she continued with her reasoning. �
��I understand that you’re angry at older adults who are in a position of authority, but how do you feel about yourself?”
“It’s not fair.”
“Is that how you really feel, that you have been treated unfairly?”
Amanda threw a pillow across the room and shouted, “I’m damned humiliated, okay? I can never show my face at school again. I won’t graduate. You’re going to kick me out and I’ll be living in the gutter the rest of my life.”
Rebecca felt a muscle in her shoulder knot into a ball, refusing to let up. Her hand reached back and tugged at her neck. “I guarantee you none of that will happen but you just gave me an idea for your punishment.”
Amanda glared at her, thin lipped, cheeks flushed.
“Tomorrow I’ll walk into school with you and see you to your first class. You will attend school and you will graduate.”
“No! Why can’t I just finish online?” Amanda rolled on her stomach and hugged a pillow.
“The most important lesson in life is that you cannot run away from your problems. You must stand up and face them—show others what you’re made of. I’ll bet more than half the kids in your school are having sex. Am I right?”
Amanda looked down. “Yeah.”
“So you got caught and you feel embarrassed. I’m not telling you that I approve of your behavior, but now you have to live with it.”
Tears spilled down Amanda’s nose and Rebecca reached out and rubbed her back. “What have Sean’s parents said?”
“They took away his keys and he’s never allowed to see me outside of school again.”
“That’s punishment for you too, isn’t it?”
Amanda wailed and pushed her away. “You don’t understand. You think we’re just two irresponsible teenagers.”
“No, that’s not what I said.”
“But it’s what you meant.”
“Of course not. We have to get through this thing.”
“I have to get through it. Me. You can fool around with Matt with no consequences, but I’m stuck facing all the bastards at school.”
The accusation hit her like a punch to the gut.
Have I betrayed my children? Have I set a bad example? Oh my God. Have I betrayed Henry?
Too many damning thoughts pounded against her skull. Matt was gone. Nothing made sense. Rebecca cast her gaze to the carpet. She had to maintain control. No one could compare a teenager to a widow in her forties. But still, she couldn’t shake the guilt that made her heart sink. Rebecca gathered all her strength to look at Amanda and put her back in her place.
