Hush, Puppy

by Roxanne St Claire

  “Oh, a first crush isn’t going to kill him,” Liam said, putting his arm around Andi. “Pretty sure you were mine.”

  “In your thirties,” she said, laughing as she leaned her head on his strong shoulder. “Go on and watch your little girl. But thanks, Summer. I’m sure they’ll work it out. He’ll have to lick his wounds anyway when you guys go back to Florida.”

  “Won’t we all?” John whispered in her ear as he ushered her away.

  “Will you?” she asked.

  He just gave her a get real look.

  “I don’t know,” she teased. “You’ll get your dog back, and you won’t have crazy women misreading computer screens and costing you God-knows-how-much.”

  Alone at the bottom of the stairs, he put an arm around her and drew her all the way into an embrace. “Small price to pay.”

  It was her turn to give him the very same look.

  “Okay,” he conceded on a laugh. “Not that small. But I’m still confident Tom Barnard will come in. We can fix the financing problems and carry on.” He paused at the top of the stairs, then stepped toward a doorway that led to another enclosed set of stairs to the third floor. “Listen.”

  “You are my Mavvie, my little Mavvie. You are the doggy made just for me…”

  The music and new lyrics that had gone way past familiar this weekend floated down, making Summer smile.

  “You and me, Mavvie, will be together. It is our destiny!” Summer whispered the words she knew well by now, but Destiny’s distinct and shockingly powerful voice filled the small stairwell, along with a just as powerful, high-pitched dog howl and a noisy explosion of applause and laughter.

  “What was that?” The voice behind Summer surprised her, and she turned to come face-to-face with Cassie, John’s sister.

  “That was Destiny Rose,” he said with as much pride as any…yes, as any father.

  “And Maverick, the singing puppy,” Summer added with the same amount of pride.

  “Holy sweet pipes, Batman.” Cassie practically pushed them out of her way to get up the stairs. “I have to get them to Barkaoke tonight. There’s still time to sign her up.”

  “Whoa. Whoa.” John grabbed her sleeve, slowing his sister’s step. “She might not want to do that, Cass.”

  No, she would not, and Summer could not have been more grateful to John for knowing that and putting the brakes on such a crazy plan.

  “Are you kidding? Did you hear her sing? And the dog right there with her? She could win. Believe me, I’m organizing it because my client, Family First Pet Foods, is the sponsor. And there is no one planning to sing on that stage in the square tonight who comes close to her. And Mav.”

  John looked like he was about to say no, then he turned to Summer. “What are the chances?”

  “The chances she’ll sing in front of all of Bitter Bark on a stage in the town square?” She laughed lightly. “You’re the math guy. What number is way less than zero?”

  “Can I ask?” Cassie put her hand on Summer’s arm. “I will not push. I would like to ask her.”

  Summer thought for a moment, then nodded. “You can ask.”

  Without a second’s hesitation, Cassie shot up the stairs, leaving John and Summer to look at each other.

  “You said you wanted her to have a little stress,” he reminded her. “That her speech therapist says it’s good for her.”

  She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder, not even a little surprised he remembered that. “I’m not sure I could take the stress of that if she says yes.”

  “Well, it’s a less-than-zero chance.” He put an arm around her and walked her to the top of the stairs where noise, chatter, and laughter spilled from an open door that led to a little apartment. “And if she does say yes…” He kissed her on the forehead before they walked in. “We’ll have something else to celebrate.” Leaning down, he whispered in her ear, “This time, we’ll skip the movie and go straight to the kissing parts.”

  An unholy thrill zipped through her as they stepped in, greeting the small crowd of all women—plus Mav—who were gathered there.

  Gramma Finnie and Yiayia sat side by side on a floral-print sofa, watching Destiny on a makeshift stage on a wide bay windowsill. She held Mav in her arms, a small, homemade microphone stand in front of her.

  Darcy and Ella were on the floor like the enthralled audience, the Barbie karaoke machine between them. In front of Destiny, with her hands in a prayer position, Cassie was nearly breathless with her pleas.

  “Please, just hear me out.”

  Destiny turned to Summer and gave her the biggest smile, the kind that made her heart soar.

  “Did you hear me, Mommy?”

  And she didn’t stutter! “I did, angel. That was just glorious.”

  “It was that and more,” Cassie cooed. “You two, you and Mav, could win the Barkaoke contest. You’d make the show!”

  Destiny just stared at her, the smile still in place, but a little hint of dread in her eyes. Because she was being asked to sing in front of people, or because she was scared she couldn’t respond without a stammer?

  Summer tensed and moved imperceptibly forward, ready to jump in and answer for her, but the strong, steady hand on her back added a tiny bit of pressure. He didn’t even look at her, didn’t say a word, but that very little bit of a reminder was exactly what she needed.

  Destiny had to speak for herself. Summer shouldn’t push her one way or the other, because the decision was Destiny’s to make.

  “Do I have to talk?” she whispered, eliciting a soft moan from Gramma Finnie.

  “You know who Connor and Sadie are?” Cassie asked. “Have you met them yet?”

  She nodded, although Summer wasn’t entirely sure Destiny knew the names of all the relatives and their significant others.

  “Well, they are our co-mayors, along with their dog, Frank, who is the mayor of Bitter Bark. The three of them will be the emcees, er, announcers,” Cassie clarified. “And they will introduce everyone and thank them after they perform. I promise I will make sure that you don’t have to do anything at all but sing.”

  “In front of all the p-p-p-people?”

  “There will be a lot of people there,” Cassie said, somehow instinctively knowing to speak slowly. “But I am pretty sure that if you sing, twenty-five or more of them will be named Kilcannon, Mahoney, or Santorini.”

  “Or Jackson,” Summer added softly.

  Destiny looked down at Mav, then lifted her gaze and looked hard at Summer, the battle in her heart evident in every perfect feature on her face. She wanted to do this. She wanted to in the worst possible way. But fear was stopping her.

  “And there’s a prize if you win,” Cassie added, sensing she was about to close the deal.

  “What is it?” Destiny asked, her eyes a little brighter.

  “Well, it’s a great big trophy that is…are you ready? A microphone shaped like a dog bone.” She grinned at the others. “I personally designed it, and I have to say the client was thrilled.”

  “Not as thrilled as he was when he saw Ella in the square during the setup yesterday,” Darcy stage-whispered to Ella, who elbowed her right back.

  “Shut it, Darce.”

  “Well, he was.”

  But the exchange was lost on Destiny, whose eyes widened with more yearning. “A trophy?”

  John had shared his selection of “hardware” with her earlier this week, and she’d been mighty impressed by the trophies.

  “Oh, and dog food for life!” Cassie clapped her hands. “I totally forgot that part. The dog who sings wins a free lifetime supply of Family First dog food. You’ll never have to pay for a bite of this little guy’s food.”

  Destiny gasped as this sank in, and she shifted her gaze to John. “Yes,” she whispered, so softly that Summer wasn’t sure she heard.

  “Yes?” About three others asked the question in unison.

  “You’ll do it?” Cassie practically screeched.

&
nbsp; Destiny nodded as if she didn’t trust herself to speak, and Summer took a few steps closer.

  “You’re sure, honey?” she asked.

  “I’m sure, Mommy.” She lifted Mav closer and pressed her mouth under his floppy ear to say something, then putting the puppy to her own ear, getting a swift lick. “Mavvie’s sure, too.”

  “Hallelujah!” Cassie practically leaped in the air. “Destiny Rose, you are going to be a star! I predict your performance will go viral, and Family First will love the PR.” She stopped suddenly, taking Summer’s arm. “If you’re okay with that. We won’t use her last name or anything. I’ll protect her identity.”

  “It’s fine,” Summer said, more than a little certain Des might back out at the last minute. “As long as she has every opportunity to change her mind before she goes onstage.”

  “Absolutely,” Cassie promised, then she grabbed John’s arm. “Come with me to spread the news. The show’s at seven tonight, and we want everyone there. Help me rally the troops for a family adventure. And if she wins, we’ll drag the entire crew to Bushrod’s for drinks and dessert, courtesy of Family First!”

  “One second, Cass.” John turned his attention to Destiny. “What made you change your mind, kiddo?”

  She lifted a shoulder, the bruised one.

  “Was it the trophy?” he asked.

  “It was the dog food,” she said softly. “So you don’t have to pay for Mavvie’s food, because you don’t have money in your hand.”

  He blinked at her, his face a reflection of the same emotions swirling through Summer. “Destiny,” he said, a little wonder in his voice. “That’s not…necessary.”

  “I want to.” She snuggled the dog. “I love him.”

  “And I love…that you’re going to sing.” He swallowed visibly, then turned and left quickly, as if he didn’t trust himself in that room for one more minute.

  “Sweet Saint Patrick,” Gramma Finnie whispered after John and Cassie were gone. “I need a hankie for all these unshed tears, lass.”

  Summer felt the same, walking to the window seat so she could wrap her arms around Destiny. “I’m proud of you, honey,” she whispered. “Not just for singing and for being so generous, but because you’re going to be such a big girl about giving up Mav.”

  She slipped out of Summer’s embrace, popped off the little homemade stage and darn near pirouetted in front of the grannies, who reached out for their own hug.

  “You were mahvehlous, dahling!” Yiayia teased in an affected accent.

  “A star is born, lassie!” Gramma Finnie added.

  Darcy and Ella were cheering and high-fiving, too, still on their knees as they gathered around their little protégée.

  But…something was off. Something was unfinished. Why hadn’t Destiny reacted to her comment about giving up Mav? Because if she was worried about John paying for dog food, then she planned to give him back. Right?

  “Des,” Summer said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Did you hear what I said? About giving up Mav?”

  Destiny looked up, her expression blank. And Summer could almost always read her expressions. But this one…

  Something was off.

  “You are going to give up Mav, aren’t you?”

  She hugged him tight and stared, silent, while the others quieted down and watched the standoff.

  “You know you have to…eventually.”

  “No, I won’t,” she said softly, climbing onto the sofa to tuck herself between the two grandmothers as if they were her pillars of support. “I won’t have to.”

  “Yes, you will have—”

  “Not if he’s my daddy.”

  Yiayia gasped, and Gramma Finnie pressed her fingers to her lips. Darcy made a little noise, and Ella just started laughing.

  Yes, it was all amusing and precious and even a little thrilling for them. But Summer was the one who would have to pick up the pieces of a child’s broken heart if that didn’t happen. And…maybe her own.

  Right then, she felt exactly like Destiny might about tonight’s performance—a little overwhelmed at how deep she’d gotten herself into a situation she really wanted, but terrified it might blow up in her face.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Bushrod Square was hopping on Sunday evening, packed with locals, tourists, street performers, sidewalk vendors, and so many dogs. The entire Kilcannon-Mahoney-Santorini clan had packed up after dinner at Waterford Farm, piled into all their various trucks, SUVs, cars, and one refurbished dog van previously owned by the late, great Annie Kilcannon, and headed, with many dogs, to the square.

  Through it all, John was utterly amazed at how calm Destiny was about her debut performance. She rode with Summer and John, holding Mav, softly whispering to him with what seemed to be zero fear.

  As if she were afraid to cause any anxiety, Summer was much quieter than usual, turning from the passenger seat to smile at Des periodically, then holding John’s hand with a slightly too-tight grasp as they parked and walked through the square to the stage and three sets of bleacher seats erected for Bitter Bark’s first Barkaoke contest.

  As the organizer, Cassie had some serious pull and had arrived early to reserve the first four rows in the middle bleachers for the family, who were gathering in groups, chatting, and laughing with excitement—and maybe some nerves on behalf of little Destiny.

  As they reached the stands, a cheer went up from the family, and Destiny squared her little shoulders and gave Mav’s leash a tug.

  Over her head, John and Summer shared a look.

  “You nervous?” he mouthed.

  “Dying,” she replied, just as silent.

  “There she is.” Cassie swooped in with a small posse made up of Pru, Darcy, Ella, and two meddlesome octogenarians not far behind. They all made a fuss over Destiny’s pretty pink dress, which John and Summer had zipped back to his house to let her change into, and the blue kerchief around Mav’s neck, courtesy of Friends With Dogs grooming business, owned by Darcy.

  “We’re going to take her backstage,” Cassie announced. “Summer, you can come with us and watch from back there, or with the family in the stands. Mama’s choice.”

  “Do you want me with you, Des? I’ll go where you want me.”

  She swallowed, thinking. “Stay here, Mommy,” she whispered.

  “You’re sure?”

  “I want you to see like everyone.”

  “Oh, honey. Okay.” She bent over and folded her daughter in her arms and added a kiss on the head. “Knock ’em dead, buttercup.”

  When they parted, Destiny looked up at John, and his heart twisted because he was certain she’d done this for him. For the dog food, and maybe to show him she could conquer a fear. And if asked right at that moment, he would have announced to the world that he loved that little girl.

  Instead, he just crouched down and gave Mav some love. “Sing like the beast you are, Mavvie.”

  Destiny smiled. “You called him Mavvie.”

  “Guilty as charged.” He laughed softly and met her indescribable gaze. “You are one hundred percent sure you want to do this?” he asked on a whisper. “’Cause you don’t have to.”

  “It’s my dream,” she said softly. “Like you said f-f-flying was.”

  Oh God. He might actually shed a damn tear.

  “Then don’t let anything stop you, kiddo.” He plucked at a ringlet, letting it bounce. “And don’t lose Mav back there, okay? Leash on all the time.”

  “I promise.” She leaned closer, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and was suddenly escorted off in a flurry of female laughter and chatter. And some barking.

  It took him a second to stand up, swallow his emotion, and turn to Summer. Her eyes were wide, her jaw loose with a soft quiver. He didn’t know what to say, so he just put his arms around her and pulled her in for a long hug.

  “You can sit with us.” Yiayia’s voice was sharp in his ear, pulling them apart. “Finola has Jameson’s in a flask. I think you could both use
some.”

  They cracked up and took seats, with Gramma Finnie next to Summer and Yiayia next to him, each holding a dachshund. All around, John was surrounded by all the familiar faces who’d become family in the past year, like a cloud of support and encouragement that he knew Summer could feel, too.

  He took them all in, from his own brother, sitting with Grace a few rows behind them, over to the next row of Kilcannons and several small babies. Then he saw Declan and Braden both talking to a tall, dark-haired man he thought he’d seen before, but didn’t actually recognize.

  “Who’s the guy on the end talking to Braden?” John asked Yiayia. “Another firefighter?”

  Yiayia didn’t look. “The gorgeous one with the strong jaw, broad shoulders, and eyes the color of a kalamata olive?”

  John laughed softly, as did Summer, who’d leaned in to listen to the exchange. “That would be one way of describing him,” John said.

  “That’s Ella’s future husband,” Yiayia replied.

  “What?” Summer and John asked the question in unison.

  “Oh, you don’t know that, Agnes,” Gramma said, adding a tsk. “Ella cannot stand the man.”

  “Which means nothing,” Yiayia said. “In fact, it’s a sign of how perfect that match will be. Pru says they’ll be perfect for ‘opposites attract.’”

  “Who is he?” Summer asked, eyeing the stranger. “He’s really…”

  John slid her a look, and she jabbed him lightly with her elbow.

  “Not cute or anything,” she finished.

  Yiayia finally stole a look, a satisfied, smug smile on her face. “His name is Jace Demakos. His family is from Mykonos,” she added with the same inflection as if she’d said, He’s been dipped in fairy dust and is worth fifty billion.

  “Oh yeah.” John remembered him then. “The Greek guy from Chicago who works for the dog food company. You think he and Ella…”

  “I know he and Ella…but not yet. When the time is right. Now, watch. Here comes the dog mayor.”