by Judy Duarte
“So who’s going to look after you during the day?” he asked Buddy.
The dog gave a half bark, half whine, then trotted over to a honeysuckle plant near the gate, dug at the ground and gave it a good sniff.
Maybe they could keep Buddy in his office—or rig up some fencing to keep him in the reception area near Kara’s desk.
About that time, an engine sounded. Rick looked up to see the approaching vehicle, a white, older model Toyota Corolla. When the driver, a Latino male in his late fifties, got out, Rick recognized his uncle, Ramon.
His first thought was to say, What in the hell are you doing here? But he bit it back. Instead, he said, “How’s it going, Tío?”
“It’s good, Mijo. Very good.” Ramon reached out, and they shook hands. “Your aunt Rosa asked me to come by and talk to you. I won’t stay long.”
“I want you to know that I don’t hold any hard feelings toward you,” Rick said, although he supposed that wasn’t entirely true.
“I wouldn’t blame you if you did. Things were pretty bad when you and Joey lived with us. I can apologize a hundred times, but I know that’s not going to take away the bad memories.”
He had that right.
“I was a lousy husband,” Ramon said, “especially when I drank. And I know that some guys go to prison and come out all the worse for it. But I’m not one of them. I learned a lot there—mostly that I never want to go back.”
“That’s good to hear,” Rick said.
“I haven’t had a drink in nearly a year,” he added. “I’ve been going to AA meetings. I have a great sponsor—a good man who holds me accountable.”
Ramon never had anyone notable to look up to, anyone he could count on in a pinch. Neither had Rick—until he met Hank. So he could see where those meetings and a strong support system would help.
“My old man used to drink himself into either a rage or a stupor every night,” Ramon said. “And I grew up thinking that was what all men did. But I now know that’s not true. I’ve also joined a church, and I’m learning a new way to live. I’ve met some good people, seen some nice families.”
Rick had felt the same way when the Lazaros had invited him into their home. Maybe his uncle really had changed. Maybe he really did want a new life for himself and Rosa.
“Your aunt is willing to give me a second chance,” Ramon said. “And while I don’t expect you to do that, I’m on step nine in the program, and I need to make amends with the people I’ve hurt. I’m sorry, Mijo. I can’t fix the past, but I promise to be a better man in the future. I hope one day you will find it in your heart to forgive me.”
How could Rick not forgive him?
“Sure, Tío. If Tia Rosa can forgive you, I can, too.” When Rick opened his arms, his uncle stepped into his embrace.
“I promise you won’t be sorry, Ricardo. I won’t let you down. Not again.”
As Ramon turned to leave, he paused when he reached the driver’s door of his vehicle and looked over his shoulder. “Oh. I almost forgot. Your tia wanted me to invite you to dinner one night this week. She said she’d make all your favorites—chili verde, chicken mole.... What do you say?”
Rick tossed him a smile. “I’ll give her a call later and decide on a day that works best for both of us.”
Ramon broke into a contented grin, then got into his car and drove away.
As Rick watched him go, his anger, hurt and doubts began to morph into hope.
Ramon wasn’t just making false promises this time. He was actually taking solid steps toward change. And for that reason, Rick was determined to offer his support—not only in his uncle’s quest to stay sober but in his desire to reconcile with his aunt.
Rick, of all people, couldn’t blame the man for wanting to create—or re-create—a family for himself.
In fact, that’s what Lucas had tried to do. And that’s why Rick hadn’t been able to fault him for it—let alone punish him.
His thoughts drifted to the whole mess with Mallory, yet no matter how angry she’d gotten at him, no matter how much blame she placed on him, he wasn’t going to stand by and let her take his son away from him.
She might not believe it, but he now knew it to be a rock-hard fact. A kid who’d grown up in a dysfunctional home really could kick his past and become the man and the father he’d always hoped he could be.
Rick glanced down at the dog sitting beside him. It might take some work and a little patience, but Rick was in it for the long run. “We both are. Isn’t that right, Buddy?”
As if knowing just what he was agreeing to, the dog—Rick’s dog—barked.
So where did Rick go for some Daddy training?
The only man Rick had ever gone to for solid advice on anything was Hank Lazaro. And who better to go to for counsel now?
Rick reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell. When he had Hank on the line, he asked, “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“I have a problem and need some fatherly advice.” Rick went on to lay it all on the table, including the details that led to the blowup he and Mallory had yesterday morning. “I’m not comfortable punishing him. He hardly knows me. And I think we need to be friends first. Besides, she came down so hard on him that I thought she was unfair.”
“Well, you have two issues going on there. First of all, you and Mallory need to learn how to parent together. It’s hard enough for a husband and wife to do that when they’ve had a child since infancy and have learned to discipline as they’ve gone along. But you’ve had the job dropped into your laps. And on top of that, you two have other issues to deal with, such as your past relationship and how that’s going to affect your parenting from here on out.”
“You got that right.”
“I’m in no position to address your relationship issues with Mallory,” Hank said, “so I won’t even go there. But I can talk to you about fatherhood.”
Rick didn’t think anyone could help him deal with the Mallory stuff. He was still trying to wrap his mind and his heart around it himself. “Let’s focus on me and Lucas.”
“It’s nice when a father and son can be buddies,” Hank said. “But you’re the adult. Sometimes you can’t be a nice guy. You have to set boundaries and enforce rules whether you like them or not. And a kid will actually respect you for it. They like knowing their limits. It makes them feel loved and safe.”
Rick glanced down at his four-legged “buddy.” Hadn’t he given similar advice to the pet owners who’d talked to him about obedience training?
“I’m sorry I can’t advise you on what to do with Mallory,” Hank said. “What I can do is invite Lucas to come over to our house for a sleepover tonight. That would give you two a chance to talk things over in private. And maybe you can also come up with a coparenting game plan.”
“Thanks for the offer. That would be great, but I don’t think it will work out, especially with Brian in town. Besides, tomorrow is a school day.”
“I understand. But if you ever do need a sitter, even on a weeknight, Marie and I will make sure that Lucas gets to bed early, that he eats a good breakfast and that he gets to school well before the morning bell rings.”
“Thanks, Hank. I’ll remember that.”
After disconnecting the line, Rick stood in the middle of his yard, giving Hank’s words some thought.
Like it or not, he was going to have to talk to Mallory. And he wouldn’t put if off any longer. He wasn’t sure whether Brian would be there or not, but either way, he was going to apologize.
He probably owed an apology to Brian, too. If the man was going to marry Mallory, they would all have to work together for Lucas’s sake.
As he reached into his pocket for the keys to his pickup, Buddy whined. In the past, he’d always locked the dog back in his
pen. And apparently, Buddy knew it.
But not today.
“Sundays ought to be a family day. Where’s your leash?”
Chapter Twelve
As Rick started walking toward Mallory’s house, his uncle’s words continued to dog him all the way.
I need to make amends with the people I’ve hurt... I can’t fix the past, but I promise to be a better man in the future. I hope one day you will find it in your heart to forgive me.
Rick had accepted his uncle’s apology. So why did the man’s heartfelt vow keep niggling at him?
He intended to make amends with Mallory, and he planned to apologize to Brian, as well. On top of that, he’d become a much better man than he’d started out as, and he was determined to keep improving over time.
What was missing? What hadn’t he done?
He hadn’t walked a block when it hit him. There was someone he’d left out of the mix, one man he’d wronged yet had neglected to face.
“This isn’t going to be easy,” he told Buddy as he turned the dog around and headed back home. “But we have to see someone else first.”
Ten minutes later, after he and his dog had climbed into his truck and driven across town, Rick turned left on Lone Star Lane and pulled into the only senior apartment complex in town that provided independent living as well as various levels of assistance.
He found a shaded parking spot near the main entrance. For a moment, he considered rolling down the windows and leaving Buddy in the car. It was cool enough today, and he wouldn’t be long. But he’d decided to honor his commitments and promises from now on, even if he’d made them to a dog.
So he snapped the leash on Buddy’s collar, hoping the place was pet friendly.
After talking to the receptionist and learning that Mallory’s grandfather lived in apartment 2-C, Rick and Buddy made their way outside and along the floral-lined sidewalk.
As he and Buddy walked, a couple of ladies seated on a bench in the shade commented on the “cute little pooch” as they passed by.
One man wearing a cap that boasted his WWII veteran status stopped when he saw Buddy, reached into the pocket of his navy blue windbreaker and offered the dog a piece of bacon he’d apparently saved from breakfast.
Apparently, the residents seemed happy about Buddy’s visit, but at this rate, it was going to take Rick forever to make his way to the right building.
When he finally found apartment 2-C, he knocked.
A matronly brunette wearing teal-colored scrubs answered the door and smiled. “Yes?”
“I’m Rick Martinez. I came to see Reverend Dickinson. Is he able to have visitors this afternoon?”
“Yes, of course. Please come in.”
Mallory’s grandfather, a tall, slender man in his seventies, had been reading in a brown recliner near a large window. He glanced up from his book when he realized a guest had arrived.
Rick drew Buddy’s leash close to his side. “I hope I’m not interrupting you, sir. And I’m sorry for bringing my dog. He’s housebroken, but I’ll only be a minute.”
“No, you’re not interrupting anything.” Reverend Dickinson set the novel on the lamp table. “Please come in. And don’t worry about the dog. I’m an animal lover. Always have been. But my late wife was allergic to pet dander.”
“I’m not sure if you remember me,” Rick said.
“Actually, I do.” The minister pointed to the sofa. “Please. Have a seat.”
Rick complied. Buddy nosed his way over to the older man’s outstretched hand, his tongue hanging out as his new friend rubbed him briskly behind an ear.
“What can I do for you?” the reverend asked.
“I came to...” Rick wasn’t entirely sure how to broach the subject. “Well, I came to apologize for the way things happened ten years ago. I loved Mallory back then. And I love her now. I realize that she’s involved with another man, and I’ll respect that. I also want you to know that I fully intend to pay child support for Lucas—and that I plan to be a father to him in every way I can.”
“I appreciate that. And I’m sure Mallory does, too.” The old man leaned back in his chair, Buddy sitting patiently at his slippered feet. “I heard that you went to college and got your degree in veterinary medicine. That’s quite an achievement.”
Rick had expected Mallory’s grandfather to point out that Rick had done it in spite of the family he’d had, but he didn’t. And Rick appreciated that.
“Thank you.”
“I’m sure you can understand why my wife and I worried about you and Mallory becoming so serious when you were younger. And we... Well, we hadn’t realized things would work out the way they did.”
“None of us did, sir.”
They sat like that a moment—quiet and introspective. Rick had never been too comfortable around Mallory’s grandfather, but at least now he didn’t fear a fire-and-brimstone sermon or lecture.
“I finally had the pleasure of meeting the boy last week,” Reverend Dickinson said. “He looks a lot like you.”
“Yes, he does. And he has Mallory’s sweet temperament.”
Again, the silence settled around them.
“Other than Alice Reilly,” the reverend said, “most people don’t know that Mallory was pregnant when she went to Boston. Her grandmother and I didn’t see any point in telling them. I suppose it was wrong of us to try and keep that a secret. But, at the time, it seemed like a good idea.”
Rick wasn’t sure what to say. He figured they’d all thought they were doing the right thing at the time, even if they’d ended up making mistakes. But he held his tongue.
“Under the circumstances, I’ll be making an announcement to the congregation about Mallory adopting her biological son one Sunday in the near future.” Reverend Dickinson turned to Rick. “Are you okay with that?”
“Of course I am. I’m just sorry that Mallory and I weren’t married when she got pregnant. But I can’t change the past. I am, however, proud to call Lucas my son. And I hope that, someday, you’ll be able to forgive me and to accept me as his father.”
“I’d be a pretty poor minster if I couldn’t find it in my heart to forgive others, Rick. I haven’t always made the right choices in my life, either—believe it or not. And sending Mallory off to Boston was probably one of my biggest mistakes. But what’s done is done. We make the best decision we can at the time, then we have to deal with the consequences and move on.”
Buddy, obviously seeking the same attention Mallory’s grandfather had given him earlier, placed his paw on the old man’s lap.
“Well, now. You certainly are a friendly boy. What’s your name?” The old man stroked the dog’s back as if he was waiting for Buddy to answer him.
“This is Buddy,” Rick said. “He’s a stray I rescued. But I’ve decided to adopt him.”
“There’s a lot to be said about the heart of a man who loves animals. Lucas is lucky to have you in his life.”
“Reverend Dickinson,” the nurse said as she entered the room, “it’s time for your medication.”
Rick politely made his exit, feeling pretty lucky himself right then.
He just hoped his luck didn’t run out. Because his next stop was Mallory’s house. And he hoped she would be as forgiving as her grandfather had been.
* * *
By Sunday night, Mallory had spent so much time in the kitchen trying to de-stress and problem solve that she’d baked up a storm, used up all of her plastic containers and had run out of space in her freezer.
One would think that after Brian had left town that she’d feel a lot better—and she did. But she now realized that, until she had a heart-to-heart talk with Rick, her life would never get back to normal.
“So what are you going to do?” Lucas asked her as he stood in the cent
er of the living room, his arms crossed.
It’s not as though she’d been discussing her dilemma with her son, but since she’d grounded him from the television, as well as the video and computer games, he didn’t have a whole lot to focus on inside the house. So he’d obviously picked up on the fact that something was bothering her.
Still, she couldn’t very well share it with him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.
“You’re worried about something. I can tell. And you told me that I can’t butt into your life. So I’m not. But you better talk to someone or else you’re going to have a heart attack or something.”
Mallory stopped pacing—or whatever she’d been doing that had caused him to take note of her unusual behavior—and blew out a sigh. “You’re right, Lucas. But I’m perfectly healthy.” The last thing she needed was for the poor child to think that another adult in his life was dying. “I do need to talk to someone, though. And I’ve put it off long enough. Would you mind taking some cookies over to Mrs. Reilly? I have a couple of plates I’d prepared as gifts for people. They’re on the kitchen counter. Choose one for her. And while you’re there, would you ask her if you can hang out with her for a while?”
“Okay, but who are you going to talk to?”
“Your father. I owe him an apology.”
“Cool.” A bright-eyed grin broke out on his face, as if that would solve everything.
It would certainly help, but she was afraid it was going to take more than those two little words to fix the damage she’d done when she’d raced over to his house and blown up at him yesterday.
While Lucas went to the kitchen for the cookies, Mallory searched for her purse and the car keys, although she probably ought to walk to Rick’s place. It wasn’t very far.
They returned to the living room at the same time. She waited for Lucas to open the door, intending to follow him out, but he paused at the threshold and let out a whoop.
He turned to her and smiled. “It looks like you don’t have to go anywhere, Mom.”
Mallory peered over the top of his head and spotted Rick coming up the sidewalk, holding Buddy’s leash, the dog trotting along beside him.
