William was already backing away as she ended the call. “I’m heading for a hot shower,” he said. “Tell Sunny we’ll set up some dog training soon.” He gave Bisky a quick glance and then strode down the road.
Bisky turned back to her ordinary life and her responsibilities, wondering what had just happened.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ON MONDAY AFTERNOON, home from a planning meeting with Drew at the museum, William knelt beside the dog’s crate and tried to lure him out with a piece of jerky. “You know by now I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, keeping his voice low and quiet, keeping himself small.
The dog inched forward, sniffing. She wanted the food.
William stayed perfectly still, and the dog advanced closer. Today, William’s hand was just six inches outside the crate.
A loud car drove by outside and the dog shrank back inside. She’d come out of the crate occasionally, if lured by food, enough that William could snap a leash on her and take her outside to do her business. But progress was slow. And that was why Sunny was coming over soon, right after she got out of school.
He wasn’t thinking about Sunny, though; he was thinking about Bisky. He couldn’t get her out of his head, and unfortunately, he had to have a lot of interaction with her in coming days as they started the teen program.
He’d come so close to kissing her. His mind had left the building and his body had taken over, after the excitement of the boat-docking contest. The way she’d looked in her shorts and man’s shirt with the rolled-up sleeves, the way she’d looked at him...because she had looked at him with something like desire, he was sure of it...all of it had lit a fire that hadn’t gone out since.
The dog crept forward again, and this time, got close enough to grab the jerky out of William’s hand and immediately withdraw into the crate to eat it. The sight of those big teeth in close proximity to his own flesh made William’s heart pound, made him sweat. It was a visceral reaction. The dog had ears that half pointed up like a shepherd, and half bent over, which gave her a rumpled look. Her dark eyes were alert. She was a beautiful dog, if only he could get past his fears.
He backed away from the crate, grabbed his jacket and the dog’s leash, and opened the door. She loved to go outside, and sometimes came to look out, which she did now, and he snapped the leash on her and took her outside.
He couldn’t allow his newly awakened and totally misplaced desire for Bisky to hide the realities: she was a friend. Relationshipwise, he was a failure; he’d failed at marriage, failed to take care of his wife, failed terribly at taking care of his daughter. He wouldn’t inflict himself on his worst enemy, let alone a friend.
The dog lay down to chew on a stick, and William grabbed a lawn chair and set it close by her. He’d chill here until Sunny came, let the dog enjoy some time out of her crate.
“How’s it going?” Sunny asked a few minutes later, from the side yard. She held their dog, Muffin, on a leash.
His dog let out a bay that sounded like fear and then strained toward Muffin, barking and snarling. Sunny’s dog abandoned her calm demeanor and began snarling, too, dragging Sunny closer.
The loud barking and growling and sharp white teeth reminded him of Diablo, brought back an image: his father, wading into a fight between Diablo and a neighborhood dog that was even bigger. Dad had kicked both dogs repeatedly until the other one had slunk off. He’d given Diablo a few more kicks before stomping inside.
It had worked, sort of, but William couldn’t bring himself to take the same approach.
“Okay! Leave it!” Sunny’s voice rose above the doggy rumble. She tugged at her dog, pulling it over to the other side of the yard. “Sit!” she ordered, and repeated it, and amazingly, the dog did sit for a few seconds before lunging at William’s dog again.
“Take her away and give her treats for being quiet.” Sunny tossed William a baggie of small treats.
William did as she told him, walking his dog to the other side of the yard, and indeed, the dog calmed down some. He looked over and watched how Sunny lured her dog into a sit, holding a treat at her nose and then moving it up and back until the dog had no choice but to sink down on its haunches.
He tried the same to his dog, and sure enough, she slowly lowered herself into a sitting position. He felt a surge of satisfaction. And relief, because both dogs had quieted down.
“Keep doing that,” Sunny said, and brought her dog closer, holding a treat to its nose. William kept rewarding his dog for sitting, and aside from one little growl, she continued to do it.
“I can’t believe this is working,” he said once Sunny was within earshot.
“She’s food motivated, and that’s good. What did you name her?”
“I didn’t. Not yet.”
Sunny’s jaw dropped and her eyebrows shot up. “Loser!” she singsonged. “Four days and you haven’t named that poor girl yet.”
The way she said it was exactly like Jenna had used to tease him, and the mix of joy and sorrow almost knocked him flat. He put out a hand toward the lawn chair and sank down into it.
The two dogs pulled toward each other, but Sunny’s dog’s tail wagged and then William’s did, too. They sniffed each other cautiously, end to end, and then William’s dog jumped back.
“You did good with her,” Sunny said. “You should be proud of yourself. What’s wrong? Did I hurt your feelings, calling you a loser?”
He shook his head and forced a smile. “No. You’re right, I need to find her a name.”
She didn’t seem to buy his cheerful tone. Instead, she frowned and sat down in the lawn chair across the firepit, studying him. “Mom says sometimes when you see me, you think of your daughter.”
“Yeah.” He leaned back, letting his hand dangle over the dog, petting its side a little. The dog glanced up at him and then lay down beside his chair.
“Would she want you to be all sad?”
The question hung in the air while he thought about it. Pictured Jenna and imagined what she’d say to him. “No,” he said finally. “She’d probably call me a loser for it.”
Sunny grinned. “If the shoe fits...”
He laughed a little, and then they just sat there in the sun. They were both wearing winter jackets but the sun was warm and there wasn’t much of a breeze. The crisp air carried along the scent of some spring flowers that were blooming, lined up against the back of the cottage.
“Hello?” A voice came from the same side of the house where Sunny had appeared, and the dogs went into a frenzy of barking again. At least they were doing it at someone else and not at each other. The woman who’d called out was about William’s age and wore jeans and a green jacket, her hair tucked under a hat. “William Gross?”
“Can you hold them both?” he asked Sunny, and she held out her hand for his leash.
He walked over to the woman. “I’m William Gross,” he said, holding out a hand.
She shook it, quick and businesslike. “Suzanne Brady. I’ve been hired as the new trainer for the therapy dog program, and Mary Rhoades said you have a dog over here that might be a candidate, if it’s not too fearful.”
He looked back doubtfully at his unnamed dog. Sunny was walking toward them now, holding both dogs’ leashes.
“Which one?” Suzanne asked.
William shrugged. “Both of them, I guess.”
She frowned, and Sunny’s whole body tensed beside William.
“Let’s see what they can do,” Suzanne said, and walked toward the dogs.
William’s dog yelped and jumped back. Sunny’s didn’t jump, but reared away a little.
“We’re just getting started with them,” Sunny said. “They were abused.”
“Not sure they’re going to be good candidates then,” Suzanne said.
William’s dog still cowered, as far away from Suzanne as she could get. William d
idn’t like the woman’s attitude. He stepped between the dog and the trainer, feeling protective.
Sunny looked crushed.
“Show her what Muffin can do,” he urged. “I’m no expert with dogs,” he added to Suzanne, “but Sunny is. She’s made a ton of progress with Muffin in just over a week.”
Sunny led her dog a few steps away and gave commands: sit, down, give paw. The dog obeyed each one.
Sunny’s smile got increasingly broad, and William’s heart lifted. He was proud of Sunny, and he knew her mom would be even prouder. Bisky was a good mother, allowing Sunny to have her own space and activities and be independent. The result was a strong, competent teenager.
Suzanne was studying Sunny and Muffin. “Uh-huh,” she said, not sounding impressed. She walked over to Muffin, knelt and snapped her fingers.
Muffin cringed away from her.
Suzanne frowned. “See, she’s going to have a hard time. She needs to be able to meet new people with enthusiasm. I just don’t want you to have false expectations.”
She turned toward William’s dog and repeated the finger-snapping.
The dog bared her teeth.
“Oh, no, no, no,” Suzanne said, standing, backing up and shaking her head. “We can’t have that. She’s not going to work out.”
William felt like baring his teeth, too. “How can you make that judgment?”
“Yeah, after less than five minutes?” Sunny chimed in.
The woman raised her eyebrows, her mouth twisting to one side as she looked from Sunny to William and back again. “I do have years of experience,” she said. “I assume you don’t.”
Sunny bent down and started petting her dog, not talking back.
“Thanks for stopping by,” William said, and took a step forward. It wasn’t much by way of intimidation, except that given he was double Suzanne’s size, it probably felt threatening.
Which he normally avoided, but this time, it was intentional. It was no more than Suzanne had done to both dogs, and the size differential was bigger there.
At least he hadn’t snapped his fingers in her face.
It worked; she backed away. “Right,” she said. “Nice to meet you.” She turned and walked rapidly toward the street.
Sunny muttered a word under her breath, one William was pretty sure she wasn’t allowed to use, but he didn’t correct her. “I didn’t like her, either.”
“I could tell,” Sunny snickered. “I think you scared her.”
He shrugged. “What do you think we should do?”
“Mom says you’ll always have naysayers,” Sunny said. “And that you can’t let them run your life.”
“Your mom’s wise,” he said. “Always had been. So do you think we can prove Suzanne the trainer wrong?”
Sunny grinned. “I’m ready to try. You?”
He nodded. “If you’ll help, because I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“I do,” she said confidently, reminding him so much of Bisky as a girl that it hurt his heart. “But you definitely have to choose a name for your pup.”
“Something tough,” he said. “She kind of needs a boost.”
“Raven?” Sunny suggested. “Xena? Athena?”
“Xena,” he decided. “Short and sweet.”
“Not so sweet,” Sunny said. “She’s a warrior princess. Mom and I streamed the series last Christmas.”
That made him happy, the idea of Bisky and Sunny watching a TV series about a strong, powerful woman, together. “Xena it is,” he said.
* * *
ON TUESDAY AFTER SCHOOL, Bisky looked at the six teens lounging around her heated sunroom in various stages of sullenness or boredom. Had she made a mistake?
It didn’t help that Sunny had begged off participating. “It’s fine if you do it, Mom,” she had said, “but it’s not my thing. I’m not an at-risk student. I have direction. I’m already planning to go to college.”
Which was true, but without Sunny’s fun presence, Bisky wasn’t sure how to attract this group’s interest. She’d explained that the school was offering credits for it, which meant they could get out of a class next year. It was too late to get anything going with college credits for the two seniors in the group, but the school counselors had told the seniors it would look good on their resume.
The parents had all been enthused, or at least accepting, of having the kids participate. The kids themselves, though, would need to be convinced to give the program more than halfhearted energy.
When in doubt, go with food...but William was bringing it and he was AWOL, too. Fortunately, Bisky had been on a baking spree. She grabbed a plate of cut-up brownies and another of sugar cookies and started passing them around.
Within minutes, the mood in the room lifted. The kids started talking and joking.
Thank heavens for the fact that food was the way to a teenager’s heart. There were four boys and two girls, which was another reason Bisky had hoped Sunny would participate, but oh, well. She watched as the kids joked with each other. They were good kids, and she’d known them all their lives, knew their families. None of them were close friends with her and Sunny, but around the docks, you knew everyone. Olivia was one of seven kids, and Bisky knew her parents struggled to put food on the table. Elijah had gotten in some minor trouble with the law; he was the type of kid that always got caught, most recently for smoking pot.
Aiden and Avery, the twins, spent a lot of time helping their mom with her cleaning business, mainly working in the big houses on the other side of Pleasant Shores. They were quiet, and Avery in particular was known for being really smart.
Rounding out the group were Connor, a football player almost as big as William who was sometimes stereotyped as being the not-so-bright athlete, and Syd, pierced and angry. Syd was going to be the biggest challenge, Bisky suspected.
William banged through the door from outside, holding a stack of pizza boxes. “Sorry to be late. Xena got out.”
The teens got quiet, as was their way when an outsider breached their fortress.
Bisky, on the other hand, felt strangely warmed by the sight of him, thrust back to that day last weekend on the water, when he’d seemed like he was going to kiss her.
Which would have been a huge mistake, she reminded herself. She brushed her hands together and stood. “Pizza time,” she said. “So we had dessert first, that’s not a sin. Everyone get some and then we’ll talk.”
Quickly, the teens flocked around the boxes William was opening, and they were soon settled on chairs or the floor with paper plates of pizza and soft drinks.
Bisky needed to avoid thinking too much about William, so she jumped into talking about their plans for the coming weeks. “We were thinking you could choose what you want to do in this program,” she started. “Have some input, at least. It’s prevocational, so think about what you might want to try for work. Or part-time work, if you’re going into a family business.”
“Mom says we can’t make a living on the water much longer,” Olivia said.
“My dad is making me stay,” Connor said. “Says I can haul twice as much as anyone he could hire.”
Bisky didn’t doubt that. “You could also learn more about some angle of the business,” she said. “Accounting, or PR, online marketing. That way, you can stay, but also grow professionally.”
The twins were quiet, so she nodded toward them. “What about you? Any future plans?”
The twins looked at each other. “We can’t wait to get out of here,” Aiden said. “Some way or other, we’re going to college.”
“That’s a great option, and I know you can make it happen,” Bisky said.
“Nah,” Syd said. “You’re never going to get out.”
Bisky gestured at William. “He did.”
“He’s not from a water family.”
“Yes,
he is,” Elijah said, “but...” He trailed off, his face darkening with a blush.
“Shut up.” Olivia elbowed him. “It’s rude to...” She realized everyone was listening and cut off whatever she’d been going to say, looking embarrassed.
William smiled ruefully and spoke up. “I come from a water family, but not the best. Whatever you heard, or whatever you were going to say about them, was probably right, or too mild. Things were pretty bad.”
Elijah put down his pizza and leaned forward like he wanted to hear what William said next. Elijah’s family was one of the rougher ones on the waterfront, though nowhere near what William had come from.
“Your family still around?” Connor asked.
Aiden and Avery glanced at each other, causing Bisky to wonder what they’d heard.
William shook his head. “My mom’s passed on, and my father is long gone. We’re out of touch.” He frowned, looked out the window for a beat. “Anyway. I left before I graduated high school, which isn’t the best way. I ended up getting my GED, and then I got a scholarship for college.”
“Full ride?” Avery asked. “Because that’s what we’d need.”
“Full ride on tuition,” William said. “I worked, and lived pretty cheaply, so I could pay room and board and books.” He looked around at the teens, most of whom were listening closely. “That’s one thing you learn, growing up as a dock kid: how to work hard.”
There were grunts and groans of agreement.
Bisky leaned in. “That’s a good thing. Not all young people know how to work hard, but you do. It’s a strength you’ll be able to capitalize on whatever you do.”
“Right.” William smiled at her.
Bisky sucked in a breath. He had no idea how handsome he was. Stay focused, she scolded herself. “You got support to get your PhD, too, right?”
“What’s that?” Elijah interrupted.
“It’s an advanced degree that allows you to teach in a college,” William said, “and yes. I got my tuition paid and living expenses, too, in exchange for teaching some introductory classes.”
Home to the Harbor--A Novel Page 12
