Valentine Hound Dog

by Rachelle Ayala

  He’d once promised her that he would bet his heart, his soul, and his life that he’d mean more to her than anyone ever would. And he’d been right. So, very right.

  In two short weeks, Jenna’s heart had been turned inside out, and she couldn’t envision life without knowing Larry was okay. She couldn’t believe for one minute that he’d used her. Not Larry. Not the man who was honorable and brave. He was not a user. He couldn’t even care less about the fashion show. He did it because she asked, and he wanted to please her.

  So what changed? Jenna checked her cell phone for the hundredth time. The ember of hope that leapt each time she woke her phone died when she saw no messages from him. No missed calls. Why was he so adamant about cutting her out?

  I don’t love you. I used you.

  Those words couldn’t possibly be true, could they? Had he ever told her he loved her? No. He hadn’t. So why would he tell her he didn’t, unless he did, and he was hurt. He had to be lying. She couldn’t have mistaken all the love and affection coming from him, all the wishes, dreams and hopes, the warmth of his embrace and the brushing of his lips against hers, all the little moments, and the big ones. No, there had to be more behind this.

  Since she couldn’t sleep, she checked the rest of her messages. There were plenty from Monique, Gustave, and Quint. They were all excited about her prospects and wondering what she would wear to the Valentine’s Dinner.

  Social media was blowing up about her and her designs, but even more so, her picture with Larry, labeled Beauty and the Beast, had gone viral. No wonder Larry was upset. With the way people were congratulating her on her marketing strategy, she’d never win Larry back—unless she quit fashion designing. Could she do that and still be happy?

  She glanced at the clock. It was after midnight, so she texted a message to Larry.

  Happy Valentine’s Day. I will never forget you. Give Harley a kiss from me. Love, Jenna

  Tucking her phone under her pillow, she stared at the wall, not bothering to wipe the tears. Was Larry testing her? He’d once said love that was not tested was not love.

  She didn’t know exactly when it had happened, but somewhere in those small moments with Larry, whether it was walking through the park with Harley, or primping him into his tux, or fantasizing about Italian food and Chianti, she’d fallen hopelessly and permanently in love with him.

  No matter what. He was her hero, and she’d go on loving him, with or without his approval.

  * * *

  “We are not interfering,” Jenna’s mother proclaimed early the next morning. It was Valentine’s Day, and the worst one ever for the Hart family.

  Their motto was “Heart comes first,” and Valentine’s Day was one of their favorite holidays, after Christmas, of course.

  But today, everyone approached the breakfast table with expressions befitting a funeral.

  “Come on, you guys,” Jenna said, gritting her teeth in a smile that she didn’t mean. “I’m sure you all have dates tonight. Cheer up.”

  “I’ll be your date to the Valentine’s Dinner,” Dad said. “You should be there since you raised over one hundred- eighty thousand dollars for the Firefighters’ Family Fund.”

  “I was planning on going solo, but I’ll be glad for you to be my date.” Jenna touched her father’s hand. He’d always been there for her, and she secretly believed she was his favorite. “Besides, I paid for that expensive plate of food.”

  A small part of her still hoped Larry would come through, but if he wasn’t through being angry at her, she would not hold her breath or bother him. A man had to make up his own mind. She tried to tell herself he would come around—if only she was certain that he did love her as much as she loved him.

  “Yep, and I’ll enjoy eating it.” Her father patted his trim and taut stomach.

  “As I was saying,” Jenna’s mother repeated when Cait approached the kitchen. “We’re not interfering between Jenna and Larry.”

  “Since when have we followed Geneva conventions on anyone’s love life around here?” Cait yawned. “I say we plan a multi-angle attack. Melisa can soften Larry up, while Connor gives him the man-to-man talk. Dad can pull him aside for the father-son talk, while Mom and I can bring a casserole to his place and spy out how he’s feeling. Jenna, you should do your part. Go back there and claim your dog.”

  “I’m really one hundred percent better.” Jenna said, touching the blister on her thigh. She’d suffered a second degree burn. Fortunately, it was not too serious, only enough to keep her on edge. “Larry doesn’t owe me anything, and I already apologized. He might need more time to allow himself to believe that we can make it.”

  “You’re just going to let him go?” Cait’s eyes popped wide with disbelief. “If it’s true love, it’s worth fighting for.”

  “Everything’s too raw,” Mom said. “Besides, Jenna and Larry should work it out on their own. We shouldn’t interfere.”

  “Afraid your mother’s right, as usual,” Dad said. “Let’s all carry on like normal. If Larry’s decided he doesn’t love our Jenna here, there’s no point forcing him.”

  Jenna’s stomach soured at how no one in her family believed Larry could possibly love her. Well, maybe Cait did, but then she was always a romantic, believing the best about everyone—even her husband who seemed to be more interested in playing video games at the station with his buddies than coming home to her.

  “It’ll be okay,” Melisa said. “I’m sure Larry’s hurt and angry, but after he thinks it over, he should feel better about all of this.”

  “I hope so. I never meant to hurt him.” Jenna pushed away from the table after eating a few slices of fruit. “I need to work on my dress.”

  “Which one are you wearing?” Melisa asked. “I really liked that pink one with the gray shield on one side.”

  “So do I, but I can’t possibly wear the same dress again,” Jenna said. “I’ll have to hit the fabric mart and stitch something up.”

  “By tonight? Are you crazy?” Cait flapped her arms like a panicking bird.

  “There’s nothing like designing and sewing that makes me happier.” And keeps me from moping over a broken heart. Jenna tossed her hair back and sauntered to the key hook. “May I borrow the Toyota again?”

  Mother rushed to her and kissed her. “Of course, you may. Can’t wait to see what you come up with. I take it you’re not coming to church with us?”

  “No, sorry. I have to get this gown designed and done for the red carpet this evening.” She kissed her mother and hugged her longer than usual. “All of you are the best. Thanks for not interfering.”

  Jenna escaped her family as fast as she could. They meant well, and thank God they weren’t going to interfere. Besides, if they were, they would likely gang up against her. Larry didn’t need to hear more bad things about her, like how she ditched her prom date and he ended up going stag. They didn’t know all the facts until years later when he came out of the closet, but boy had they railed on her for supposedly breaking his heart, when in reality, she missed the prom herself and had given her ticket to his “crush,” a guy on Connor’s football team.

  An hour later, Jenna was back with a beautiful blue to black gradient cloth and yards of true blue fringe. She was going for a four-dimensional look, movement combined with color transitioning from blue at the top to midnight black at the floor covered entirely with the fringes feathered to resemble a kiwi bird’s coat. Simple spaghetti straps would hold up the low-cut sexy bodice over the shoulders to a deeply scooped back.

  Everyone else would be wearing red, it being Valentine’s Day, but her heart was broken, bruised, and blue. Yet this blue was true, and almost electric—like the way Larry was making her feel right now, like a hound dog crying all the time, but still hoping everything would turn out all right.

  * * *

  Larry worked out hard on his weight bench. Jenna was right. Whether she loved him or not, it didn’t matter. What mattered was him not accepting second best
anymore.

  He’d been a chicken ever since that last fire, quitting the squad and working at the school. He’d been throwing his very own pity party for too long.

  Harley stretched on the floor, watching the weights go up and down and back and forth. What a loyal dog, although he seemed down with his head on his paws. The poor puppy missed Jenna as much as he did.

  Larry was tempted to check his phone, although it would be a trap. No doubt, Jenna had texted him and left voicemail. It had been hard enough to throw her out when every fiber of his body wanted to hold her close and accept what she offered—second best.

  She obviously valued her fashion pack more than she cared about him. He’d never said he was high-classed, never lied about his status, and he wasn’t going to be anyone’s mascot or unfashion statement.

  Larry burned through the reps, letting his muscles tire as sweat poured over his aching body. His heart was beyond repair, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t get his knee fixed and face the fires again.

  “That’s right. I’m going back to the station and so are you, Harley. You’ll ride in my engine and you’ll sleep in my bunk. Let Connor have Cinder. I have you and you’re the best hound dog ever.” Larry stroked Harley’s ears.

  Someone knocked on his door. Larry’s pulse picked up. Maybe he should have looked at Jenna’s text messages. She might have warned him that she was coming over.

  The pounding sounded again, but Harley didn’t get up and bound toward the door with his tail wagging. Instead he let out a low growl as he marched to the door.

  Definitely, not Jenna.

  Larry grabbed Harley by the collar and opened the door.

  It was Connor. He rubbed his palms and glanced around. “You alone?”

  “Of course I’m alone.” Larry stepped back to let him in. “Been lifting. I’ve decided to get my knee fixed and try out for the squad again.”

  “Seriously?” The man gave him a bear hug, slapping his back. “You’re coming back? What made you decide?”

  “It’s time I stopped hiding behind my scars and face my fear.”

  “Fear? You’re fearless, Larry.”

  “I’m afraid of fire,” he admitted, hanging down his head. “That’s the real reason I haven’t gotten my knee fixed. But now, I’ve decided to come back and do the job I’m meant for—fighting fires and savings lives.”

  “Wow, that’s awesome. What changed?”

  Larry pointed to a scar on his shoulder, then another, and another. “Your sister calls these badges of courage.”

  “Jenna did?” Connor’s eyebrows rose and he gawked. “I’m surprised. So, where is she? Did you guys make up?”

  “She has her life, and I have mine. She’s a wonderful person—just not for me.”

  “Why?” Connor bent down and petted Harley idly.

  Larry shut the door and lumbered to the kitchen. He poured both Connor and himself mugs of black coffee. He owed it to his buddy to explain that Jenna was not at fault.

  “Want anything to eat? I can heat something up,” Larry offered.

  “Had breakfast already.” Connor accepted the cup of coffee. “Tell me your side of the story.”

  “It wasn’t Jenna’s fault. She did everything she could to make sure I fit into her world, but the sad truth is I don’t fit in. I felt like a mummy in that tux, all tied up and stiff. I’m a sweats and jeans type of guy.”

  Connor sipped on the coffee and nodded, agreeing with him. Larry’s heart shrank further into his chest cavity. Connor hadn’t disagreed, which meant there was no hope. He was probably holding back from telling him that Jenna had moved on. She was going to the Valentine’s Dinner and Dance tonight with someone else.

  “Do you love her?” Connor surprised him.

  Larry stared at his reflection in the coffee, swallowing hard. The truth? He loved Jenna more than it was possible to understand, but he wasn’t going to expose his feelings to his buddy and have him pity him.

  He was saved by the doorbell buzzing. Again, Larry’s heart spiked, wondering if Jenna had come. But Harley padded to the door, sniffing as if the scent was unfamiliar.

  No Jenna. Besides, what kind of man was he to sit back and wait for her? If he wanted her back, he had to make an effort, which meant getting rid of his visitors so he could think of his next move.

  Maybe he was giving up and accepting second best again—a life without Jenna.

  “Woof, woof?” Harley barked, unsure if whoever at the door was welcome.

  “You going to get that?” Connor drawled lazily. “Could be Jenna.”

  Larry shook his head. “Harley’s curious, but not excited. It’s probably the postman.”

  He opened the door, and Melisa stood there with a folded red construction paper heart taped to a box of candied hearts.

  “You busy, Larry?” she squeaked, handing him the heart.

  “No, come in.” He opened the heart and Jenna’s name was written on it. “What does this mean?”

  “She’s your Valentine.” Melisa bounced like one of her kindergarten students. “I went by my bulletin board this morning and picked up the last two hearts I made.”

  “Melisa?” Connor stepped from the kitchen. “I thought Mom said we weren’t interfering.”

  “I’m not interfering. I came to see my friend. What are you doing here?”

  “Came to check up on my dog.” Connor shrugged. “And give him to Larry officially, since he stole him from the station.”

  “That’s so nice of you,” Melisa said. “Can I speak to Larry in private? Are you done?”

  “No, I’m not done,” Connor said. “Larry’s coming back to the station. Did he tell you?”

  “You are? Larry! That’s great.” Melisa jumped and hugged him. “I’m so happy for you.”

  “Sure, and thanks for the Valentine,” Larry said. He bent over and whispered, “How’s Jenna doing?”

  “Connor, can you take the dog for a walk?” Melisa pushed her brother. “Out, out.”

  “Oh, no, I’m not leaving if you’re interfering. Mom said, no interference, and even Cait agreed.” Connor crossed his arms stubbornly.

  “Fine. Stick around, but don’t mind us if we whisper in each others’ ears.” Melisa dragged Larry to the living room toward the sofa.

  “Women,” Connor grumbled and disappeared into the kitchen.

  “I’ve never seen Jenna so down,” Melisa said to Larry, once they were seated. “What did you do to her? Be honest with me. Did you tell her you no longer loved her? That you used her?”

  “I had to. How’s she doing?”

  “She’ll kill me if I tell you, but she’s broken. We all had to comfort her last night, and she burned her thigh when the hot chocolate spilled on her. I doubt she slept a wink, but she headed down to the fabric district to stitch up a gown for tonight.”

  A lump grew in Larry’s throat and pain lanced his entire body for Jenna. “I didn’t mean to hurt her, but it was the only way to get her to leave. She’s a big success. You saw all the write-ups. She can’t crash and burn because of me holding her back.”

  “How would you hold her back?”

  “I’m just a janitor, and maybe a fireman again. I’m not rich or fashionable.”

  “Are you upset because you were called the Beast by the fashion press?” Melisa’s light brown eyes studied him. “I know it must have been hard for you.”

  “It was, but that didn’t bother me. I’m glad I could help her achieve her dreams.”

  “Then what made you push her away?”

  “I don’t think she loves me,” he lowered his voice to a bare whisper. “I’m not her type.”

  “That’s a load of crock. All that matters is if you love her.” Melisa shook him.

  The doorbell buzzed insistently, and this time Harley got up and whined before rushing to the door, his tail wagging. His nose worked overtime, though, as if all sorts of interesting scents could be sensed through the wooden apartment door.

  Panic
seized Larry’s heart. If this were Jenna, how would he explain the presence of Connor and Melisa? She’d be upset that they were here interfering. Even worse, from the sound of it, he’d hurt Jenna. She hadn’t brushed him off as easily as he’d thought.

  Harley leaned up against the door, wagging his tail. His tongue lolled and he licked his chops as if a big feast was standing outside.

  “I’ll get it,” Melisa said, rushing to the door.

  Connor stepped from the kitchen, eating a yogurt. “Dude, you sure have a lot of visitors. Expecting anyone else?”

  Larry got to the door just as Melisa opened it.

  Cait and their mother stood at the threshold with potholders and steaming casseroles. No wonder Harley was so expectant.

  “Mother! Cait. What are you doing here?” Melisa asked.

  “What are you and Connor doing here?” Mrs. Hart marched in. “Cait and I stopped by because we had to make sure this big boy had enough to eat. We’re not interfering.”

  “No, we’re not.” Cait strode to the kitchen, trailed closely by Harley, his tail waving like a banner. “We only brought food.”

  “Well, I brought Larry a Valentine,” Melisa explained.

  “Why? Rubbing it in?” Cait rolled her eyes. “A man needs to eat, not wallow at times like this. Larry, you like Beef Bourguignon, don’t you?”

  “Sure, yes, thanks.” Larry rubbed the back of his neck.

  “A growing boy like you needs to eat,” Mrs. Hart said. “I brought potatoes au gratin to go with this, and an apple upside down cake. I bet your buddies will enjoy it. Well, Cait and I will be leaving since we’re not interfering.”

  “Unlike you, Melisa, and Connor, what are your excuses?” Cait puffed her chest like a Boston terrier guarding a soup bone.

  Harley wanted that soup bone and more. He trailed Mrs. Hart and Cait to the kitchen. Looking endearing as only a basset hound puppy could, he jumped up and rested his paws on Mrs. Hart’s legs, which only caused the poor lady to sneeze.