Nick opened another carton and removed layers of Bubble Wrap. When he looked inside, he caught his breath. He grasped a crystal plate as memories flooded back. He drew out a faceted crystal bowl, and beside it, he recognized other pieces from his youth. “These were Mother’s.” Sadness washed over him, picturing his mom since the stroke.
Martin glanced up and nodded. “You took some of her dishes, didn’t you?”
“A few things.”
Tension grew on his brother’s face.
“I’m not challenging the pieces you have, Martin. You use them more than I would.”
His brother gave a shrug and lifted another box from the floor.
The door had been opened to his true purpose for dropping by. Feeling the weight of his question, Nick managed to form the words. “Have you talked with her?”
“By her, you mean Mom?”
The question was moot. Nick didn’t answer.
“I’ve talked to her. She can’t utter a thing that makes sense.” He turned from the carton and leaned against the counter, his eyes piercing Nick’s. “You’re avoiding her.”
The words lashed Nick like a whip. “I’m not avoiding her. It kills me to see her so helpless.”
“You don’t think it kills me? Ignoring her doesn’t help. Do you think I don’t have to force myself to visit her in that condition and fill the time with one-sided conversation? You can’t shun her. She’s still your mother.”
“I know. I know.” Nick blocked his ears from Martin’s accusations. “I visit.”
“When was the last time?”
Like a punch in the stomach, Martin’s question knocked the wind out of Nick. “I’ll go. I just wondered if there’s any improvement.”
“Not much. She tries to talk, but it’s nearly impossible to understand her. The nurses do a better job than I do.”
Knots twisted in Nick’s chest. His mother was a good woman, and the horrible stroke had taken away her identity. She couldn’t do much for herself. She lay there being fed and diapered like a baby. The image tore at him.
“I’ll go this week. I promise.”
Martin focused sad eyes on him. “It’s not easy, Nick. At least make an effort.”
Nick nodded but couldn’t control a rebuttal. “And will you make an effort to be genial to Steph and Fred?”
Martin frowned. “Fred? Is that her husband?” He flashed an accusing look. “I thought you had your eye on the woman.”
Heat boiled in Nick’s chest. “Fred’s the dog, and since when do I get involved with married women?”
“That doesn’t stop some people. It didn’t slow down Denise.”
Nick’s anger softened. “I’m sorry, Martin. Denise did something terribly wrong, and I don’t condone it, either.”
Martin shook his head and reached for another dish. “I’m sorry for snapping.”
Surprised at his brother’s apology, Nick let it drop. But he couldn’t forget Martin’s comment about his interest in Steph. Sure, she’d gotten his attention, and he’d had fun doing a little flirting himself, but that’s all it was. They’d just met. Those things happened in movies not real life.
Still his defense rose. Martin often came off badly to strangers. “Is there something wrong with being neighborly?”
Martin lowered another carton onto the counter. “I don’t care what you do, but I don’t have time to be hanging over the fence, making small talk. I have a business to run.”
Nick took a lengthy breath and closed his mouth. The Bible said turn the other cheek, and that’s what he’d learned to do with Martin. If he knew what made his brother so one-sided, he might be able to help him.
As he delved into the next box, Nick kept silent. He’d always tried to get along with people. He’d go out of his way to be kind. Making friends only took a smile and a few kind words. Why couldn’t Martin do that?
Nick closed his eyes picturing the dogs bounding back and forth along the fence and brushing their noses together, bonding a new friendship, but the dogs faded. In their place, Steph’s image filled his mind, and he tried to block it. Why think about a hopeless situation? Relationships took time. That’s why Martin’s business was over the top while his was creeping on all fours.
Nick drew in a deep breath. He didn’t have time for a woman in his life now. Maybe never.
His heart skipped a beat. Who was he trying to convince?
“Heel.” Steph tightened the leash. Teaching Fred to stay at her side seemed her biggest challenge. And Fred’s. In the yard he followed her well, but when he had free rein outside the fence, the dog’s spirit grew, and he wanted to run. Once he calmed down, he’d be a winner and her friend Molly would be proud.
Steph couldn’t believe Molly’s wedding was so soon. Her bridesmaid dress fitting was scheduled the following week, and three weeks later, Molly would enjoy her big day.
The big day. Her own wedding sank into her thoughts. People married with great hopes and plans. She and Doug had. But something went wrong. He’d always been a little moody. She’d learned to stay out of his way at those times, but after the wedding, she had no home to run to. They shared a life, which meant she shared his emotional nosedives.
She’d urged him to see a doctor, to get help, but he was too proud, too positive that everyone else had the problem and not him. He’d almost convinced her. Maybe he had.
When she’d talked with Molly about this a couple years later, Molly told her to lean on the Lord. She didn’t know the Lord, and if she had, Steph wasn’t sure that even God could have helped. And if a God existed—Molly insisted He did—then why hadn’t He helped her when she needed Him the most?
That’s one thing she admired in Molly. She stuck to her faith, and she had an answer for everything. She’d asked Molly why God let bad things happen. Molly’s answer? She told Steph two things. First God gave His children free will, and Eve used it. She ate the fruit from the tree of knowledge that brought sin and evil into the world. Steph had to agree. People often caused their own problems—their own doubts and sinful ways. Steph still couldn’t decide about Molly’s explanation. Why didn’t the Lord stop Eve from eating the fruit if He knew everything?
Molly’s explanation: God didn’t want to be a puppeteer. Steph chuckled. Molly said He wanted His children to behave and love Him like a Father for who He was and not because they had no choice. After Steph thought about it, that made sense. If she ever had children, she would want them to choose to love her and not love her because they were forced.
Molly’s second explanation: through difficulties people learn. They grow and strengthen. They lean on God for help, and that binds them together. That made sense, too.
Steph rubbed her head. Sometimes she’d almost wanted to read the Bible and see if Molly knew what she was talking about. Steph questioned a lot of things. Even now she questioned what she could have done to make her marriage better. She wondered if she were at fault as Doug had accused her. Maybe she should have gone for help. A counselor might have taught her how to handle Doug’s moods, his anger, his—
“Fred, heel.” She gave the leash a quick tug and brought him to her side, grateful he’d pulled her away from her wallowing.
Steph looked up at the summer sky, hoping Molly’s wedding day would be as warm and cheerful. Weddings and funerals in the rain were terrible.
Funerals? Why did she let that slip into her mind?
Fred tugged again and jerked her forward. When Steph looked ahead, she understood Fred’s motivation. Suzette. She gained momentum, pleased to see Nick at the opposite end of the leash.
Nick waved, a smile growing on his face.
Fred’s enthusiasm quickened her steps even more. She waved back, and along with the leash, Steph felt her chest tighten.
“I stopped by your house to see if you wanted to walk Fred, but you weren’t there.”
She chuckled, watching Suzette wrap around his legs while he tried to untangle her. “That’s because I was here.”
/> He looked as good today as he did when she’d met him a few days earlier. Today he wore earth-toned colors, the collar of his sport shirt peaking above a rust-colored pullover.
“So once again, you’re the dog walker.”
“Always.” He stood in front of her while Suzette and Fred pressed their noses together, then tugged at their restraints.
Her spirit lifted looking into his smiling eyes, but the usual caution followed. She wished her heart listened to the warning.
Nick jerked with Suzette’s enthusiastic tug. He tipped his head toward the park. “Want to let the dogs run?”
The talk she’d given herself about not getting involved fluttered away. “Sure.”
His face brightened as he took a step toward the grass. “Let’s go.”
Steph followed him, her heart and head fighting. Yes, she found him appealing, attractive even, but all the foolish emotion was fruitless. Allowing a near stranger to fill her with possibilities could only lead to heartache. At thirty-nine, she’d settled into complacent singleness. She had her home and her good job now that Molly had opened the shelter and shared the building with her. She had a companion in Fred, and she’d learned that dogs were everything a soul mate should be—faithful, devoted and filled with unconditional love.
Could a man offer her those attributes? She didn’t think so.
Nick reached a bench and grasped the connection on Suzette’s leash. “Do you think I’m taking a chance?”
“Does she come when you call?”
His face twisted to a crooked smile as his eyebrows lifted. “I doubt it, but Fred does. I figure she’ll follow him.” Then he smiled, and her heart swayed like her grandma’s rocking chair.
She grinned back, but her levity lost momentum. She wanted nothing unpleasant to happen to Suzette. She would never forgive herself, but her trust in Fred’s ability to come when she called won out. With confidence, she bent and detached his leash.
Distracted by Suzette, Fred didn’t move. A first for him.
“Here goes.” Nick released the restraint, and Suzette tossed her head, then jogged off with Fred leaping around her as she went.
Nick gave a soft chuckle. “Men make such fools of themselves.” His voice was low, almost as if he were speaking to himself.
Steph backed up and sat on the bench, keeping her eyes focused on the animals.
“So far so good,” Nick said, pulling his gaze from the frolicking dogs. He sat beside her. “Have you met my brother yet?”
“No.” She studied him. “Why?”
He shrugged, a shadow growing on his face. “He’s not very neighborly.”
“That’s fine with me. I’m busy and don’t have time to hang over the fence, either.” She swallowed her words. “That is unless someone is leaning on it when I walk outside.” She pictured his friendly smile the day they met.
His eyes brightened. “And the bright side is I’m not a cranky neighbor.”
She understood the reference. “I’ve never had problems with a neighbor except a few complaints about my doggie day care when it was there.”
“Doggie day care? You mean, there in your home?”
His questioning look made Steph wish she hadn’t mentioned it. “That’s what I do for a living.”
His eyebrows lifted. “I’d never thought a pet day care could be so lucrative. Good for you.” His gaze drifted to her house.
She cringed. “My house is paid for. When my husband died, the insurance paid it in full.” The admission surprised her, and she tensed.
Nick lowered his eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t realize—”
“You didn’t know.”
His demeanor had changed, and Steph was sorry she mentioned it at all. She’d dampened their lively conversation, and the silence became uncomfortable. “My business moved to my friend’s dog shelter facility, Time for Paws, spelled P-A-W-S. It’s nice there. More room.”
“Cute name.” Nick slipped his arm behind her along the bench.
Feeling his closeness, Steph’s mind raced, trying to keep the conversation flowing. “What do you do for a living?”
“I own a small company that produces parts for industrial tools.”
Owns a company. So out of her league. “Parts for tools? Now, that sounds lucrative.”
He chuckled. “A new company takes time to grow. I worked for Martin for a while. He owns a large electronics firm, but I decided to take the big step and open my own business. It didn’t sit well with my brother.”
“No? I’d think he’d be pleased.”
“You’d think so.” He gave her a crooked smile.
In the bright sunlight, chestnut highlights glinted beneath the waves of his dark hair, cut in layers and so thick she could drown in it. She curled her fingers around the bench seat to keep herself from touching it while he watched the dogs play.
“That’s a neat thing about dogs.” Steph uncoiled her fingers. “We can read them because they’re honest. If they like you, they wag their tails and lick your hand. If they don’t, they growl and bare their teeth. You know where you stand.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice?”
Nick didn’t look at her, but she spotted tension in his jaw.
“Once a dog is socialized, you can trust them. In life, people aren’t that open. We hide a lot of things.” The truth struck her hard. She’d spent much of her life hiding things about her marriage and Doug’s death. She’d felt to blame no matter how she tried to convince herself otherwise.
Nick didn’t speak. He continued to stare at the grass as if he were miles away. Finally he lifted his head. “You’re right. It’s not only Martin who reacts without making sense. We’re all affected by our mistakes and experiences.”
Though she didn’t understand what had triggered the thought, a thread of understanding connected them.
When Steph turned her attention to Fred, her heart rose to her throat. She leaped from the bench, seeing the dogs had strayed too near the road. She clapped her hands. “Fred, come.”
Fred’s head snapped her way and his body followed. So did Suzette.
When he trotted to her side, she captured his collar. “That was a close one.”
“I should have been watching, too.” Nick clicked the leash on Suzette. “Sorry, I was distracted.”
“We both were.” She hooked her hand through the leash. “I should get back.” This felt too good and made her uneasy. Her uplifted spirit began to droop. She headed toward the sidewalk while avoiding getting her feet tangled in the leash.
Nick fell into step beside her as his cell phone jingled. He slipped it from a pocket and flipped it open. Hello faded to an apology. “I’m sorry, Al. I had some business and didn’t realize how late it was.” He tilted his wrist and eyed his watch. “I can be there in twenty minutes.”
Steph hated to listen, but Nick stayed in step with her while the voice on the other end sounded unhappy.
“Can we make it another day?”
Nick’s head lowered, and he kicked a stone. “Oh, I didn’t know. When will you be back?”
The voice was softer so Steph didn’t feel like an eavesdropper.
“Another time, then, and have a nice trip.” He flipped the lid and slid the cell phone into his pocket. “I was supposed to meet a friend for dinner.”
“I’m sorry, Nick. I hope you didn’t let me cause you to be late.”
“Not at all. Martin asked me to walk Suzette again, and I thought I could do both.” He shook his head. “When I saw you, I forgot.”
She suspected his friend hadn’t been thrilled. “You can’t do that to friends.”
He released a ragged sigh. “I know. I’ve been told that before.”
She’d wondered about him. Nick spent too much time doing his brother favors, and it seemed to affect his own life. Why did he do that? The question clogged her mind, but she kept it there and didn’t ask.
“You’re quiet.” He plopped his hand on her shoulder.
“Bus
y thinking.” He should do the same. “I have to do some housework today that I normally do Saturday.”
“What’s happening Saturday?” His voice faded, and he patted her shoulder. “Sorry. That’s a personal question I shouldn’t have asked.”
“It’s not personal.” His expression confused her—curious, yet wary. “Saturday I’m spending the afternoon having a dress fitting for a wedding.”
His eyes widened, and his hand slipped from her shoulder.
“Not my wedding, naturally. A friend’s. She’s getting married June 6. I’m a bridesmaid.”
He looked embarrassed and grinned. “Sounds like fun.”
Not really. She hated going dateless to a wedding. “I hope so.”
His hand rose to her shoulder again and gave it a squeeze. “Oh, come on. You’ll look beautiful in that gown, and you’ll have a good time.”
She gave a shrug and managed to grin. If she knew Nick better, he would make a good escort. Going alone was the pits. But she would survive without him. She’d been doing it for years.
They were silent, and Nick’s hand slipped from her shoulder. And why hadn’t he suggested taking her to the wedding?
The warmth faded, and Steph felt horribly alone.
Chapter Two
Nick sat beside his mother’s bed, studying the butter colored walls with the large clock and a card with the day and date. Everything in the facility was geared for helping the elderly men and women hang on to what mental capacity they still had.
His gaze slipped to a vase of dying flowers on his mother’s bed table. The signature on the card was Martin’s. Nick winced, then lowered his eyes and spotted the menu sheet below it. He grasped the paper, reading the choices she would have for her next meals—meals she couldn’t eat without help. He looked everywhere but at his mother. The sight broke his heart. If he had Martin’s disposition, he could deal with this horrendous situation. Whenever Nick came to visit her, a lump grew in his throat so huge he thought he would choke on it.
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