by Gail Sattler
“It’s not me. You’ve got yourself a good dog here, Shanna.”
They quieted while the other teams did their tricks, but Brendan’s attention was focused mainly on the woman beside him. Since she’d mentioned it, he couldn’t stop thinking of what he was going to do when he’d finished her fence and done all his imagination could allow with her playscape—or anything else in her yard. When he’d first started working for her, he had wanted the job to be finished as soon as he could get everything looking presentable. Now that he was almost done, he was stalling, making changes on things that didn’t matter, just to make it last longer. It wasn’t her yard or anything in her yard that was important.
Trying not to be obvious about it, while everyone else watched the dog and his master on the stage, Brendan watched Shanna. He didn’t want to be limited to seeing her only for business purposes. He wanted to see her often. Every day. He wanted Shanna in his life permanently, and it had nothing to do with work. It was all personal. Very personal.
He squeezed his eyes shut. This wasn’t what he’d planned. He wanted to fall in love with a woman who would openly love him back; then together they would raise a family of two kids in a house with a white picket fence. It was happening, but not in the right order. It wasn’t white or a picket fence, but he was working on a fence that surrounded a house already filled with two kids and their mother—a wonderful, warmhearted Christian woman who was keeping him at the end of a long stick. Brendan didn’t want to be reminded that he was almost finished with her fence and that there was nothing more he could do to the playscape without making it into a miniature house. He didn’t want his time with her to be over.
He opened his eyes and stared at Shanna, who was watching a couple of Jack Russell terriers jumping through hoops. It wasn’t his plan, but apparently it was God’s plan, and Brendan was going to have to jump through a few hoops himself. He wanted to marry Shanna. He wanted to adopt her kids, and he wanted to have more kids after that. A whole herd of kids. Except he didn’t know if she wanted more kids. He really didn’t know if she wanted to get married again. Her first marriage hadn’t exactly been a relationship made in heaven, and her life was still in a constant state of disruption because of it. He didn’t know what to do, and time was running out.
While watching her, he prayed for God to tell him something, but the only thing that came to him was to show her that he loved her. Before he could think of anything practical, the last act ended.
She turned to him and smiled, completely destroying all his thought processes. “They were all so good! But I still think you and Boffo were the best.”
“We’ll see,” he muttered.
The people from the next table called to them, and they shared thoughts on all the acts until the judging panel returned from their deliberation. A silence hung over the room for a few seconds, which was as long as could be expected considering the number of dogs in the room. The emcee held up a small, bone-shaped trophy for everyone to see, then announced that Boffo was the winner.
“You did it!” Shanna sang out.
“No, we did it. You were just as much a part of this.”
Show her that you love her. The words chorused through his head.
He turned, leaned down, and kissed her cheek, knowing everyone in the room was watching them. Before she could respond, he stood, grabbed her hand, and pulled her to her feet. “Now let’s go get that trophy. Smile for the camera.”
Taking advantage of the fact that she was still flustered, he held on to her hand and led her to the front, knowing that to everyone present, they looked very much like a happy couple with their faithful dog beside them. He felt like puffing his chest out like a proud rooster.
Once at the front, while everyone watched, he stepped aside for Shanna to accept the trophy. After all, she really was Boffo’s owner.
She smiled graciously and held it up to the camera as he leaned down and kissed her cheek again, knowing she couldn’t do anything with the camera on them; then he whispered in her ear, “Keep smiling. It’s time for everyone else to leave and for us to go get interviewed.”
❧
Shanna tried to contain her excitement as she hung up the phone.
Brendan had been right. She wouldn’t have thought the local cable channel had a large following, but Brendan’s friend had posted advertising in every pet food store and community advertising board in the area, generating much local interest.
In front of the camera, Shanna had been too nervous to say much, but nervousness wasn’t a fault of Brendan’s. Not only did he tell the camera about how much his friend’s dog school had helped Boffo, but when the interviewer asked about what he did when he wasn’t training Boffo, he gave a short prepared presentation on both his landscaping business and Shanna’s bookkeeping services.
Already, the next day, two people representing moderate-sized businesses had phoned to inquire about what she could do for them.
Just as she hung up from her call, the rumble of Brendan’s truck echoed in front of her house.
She could hardly wait to tell him the good news. She stood, but instead of hearing the engine shut off, she heard it rev and the truck drive away.
Shanna sank into her chair. It wasn’t that she was disappointed at being unable to share her good news. The sinking feeling was more than that.
She was disappointed that she didn’t get to see Brendan, no matter what the reason.
The knowledge scared her. Being with Brendan both excited her and terrified her. Everything about him she liked, and she liked a lot. Probably even too much. How he could be so gentle. . . How he worked so hard and was so meticulous with his work. . . How he played with the children. . . His kindness to the dog. . . His sense of humor. . . How wonderfully he’d kissed her.
Shanna buried her face in her hands. It was what she didn’t know that scared her: How he would act when things didn’t go right. . . What he would do when Ray stood up to him. . . His reaction when her opinion on something was different than his. . .
Boffo scurried to the door, breaking Shanna out of her thoughts.
As she reached to open the door, someone grasped the door handle from the outside. Whoever it was stood to the side instead of in front of the door as the knob turned. From that angle, she couldn’t see the person through the small window. She could only see that it was a man’s hand.
Shanna froze. She was alone and defenseless. At least the children were upstairs in their rooms, safe unless they came downstairs.
The door started to open.
Shanna screamed.
The gentle glide of the door’s movement changed to an abrupt thrust, and the door was fully open in a split second.
Brendan burst inside. “Where is he?” Brendan barked as he stepped past her.
Seeing nothing, he stood still.
Shanna was shaking so badly she couldn’t speak.
“Is he hiding?”
Her voice came out in a squeak, but at least she found it. “Who?”
“Ray. Isn’t he here?”
“N–no,” she stammered, still shaking.
“What’s wrong? I heard you scream.”
“I heard your truck drive away. I thought you forgot something and left.”
“A friend of mine needs to move some lumber, so I let him borrow my truck. He dropped me off, and he’s going to come get me at 4:30.”
“I didn’t think you were coming. Then, when I saw your hand and the door opening, I thought it was Ray, sneaking in to get me, knowing I was alone. I should have known it was you when Boffo didn’t bark. I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” He stared at her; then his eyebrows rose. “Don’t be sorry. I’m the one who should be sorry for frightening you.” He opened his arms, and his voice lowered to a comforting rumble. “Come here.”
Shanna couldn’t help herself. He called and she went. The second she was there, his arms closed around her in a comforting embrace. She found the strength not to cry, but
she couldn’t resist sinking into his warmth.
She shouldn’t have been there, but she was. Again, history had repeated itself. Roger had done it to her all the time. He’d frighten her, sometimes by shoving her while they were arguing. Sometimes he would storm up to her in such a fit of rage that she thought she’d brought him to the point where he would hit her. Sometimes just the way he shouted threats and insults at her would break her down. Then, when he’d reduced her to a quivering mess, he’d call her to him and she would go, knowing that as soon as she was in his arms it would be over and she would be safe.
It didn’t make sense when he’d been the one to put her in such a state, but every time it ended the same. Roger had been both the threat and the savior, and the cycle kept repeating until the day he died. In her head she knew it was stupid, but in her heart she knew she’d done what he wanted every time. She’d researched it and read countless books; yet like the siren’s call, she followed the same pattern, knowing she’d done it before and would do it again, and that again Roger had won.
She hadn’t been able to stop the pattern, and she was a fool. Now, it had happened again. She’d fallen into the same trap, only it was a different person. Except Brendan hadn’t done it on purpose. She could feel his remorse in the way he held her, so different than Roger. Roger had been stiff and upright, patting her on the back like a child, basking in his victory. Brendan was leaning over her, matching her shape with his, his cheek pressing into the top of her head as he nearly wrapped himself around her.
She should have felt frightened to be so consumed, but instead she felt completely safe, and she shouldn’t have since he’d been the one to frighten her.
“Mommy?” Matthew’s voice echoed from behind her. “What’s wrong? Are you crying again?”
At the sound of the child’s voice, Brendan released her. She turned around and bent down to speak to her son. “No,” she said, pushing his hair off his face. “Mommy’s not crying.”
Brendan rammed his hands into his pockets. “I accidentally scared your mom. She didn’t know I was here, so when the door opened, she thought I was a bad guy.”
Matthew’s eyes widened. “You mean she thought you was Uncle Ray coming to get stuff?”
A lump landed in Shanna’s stomach. Of course, her children could see the tension between her and Ray, but she hadn’t realized Matthew could be so perceptive. “Yes, I thought he was Uncle Ray. But it’s just Mr. Brendan, so you can go back upstairs to your room.”
He nodded. “I’ll tell Ashley it’s okay and she can come out from under her bed,” Matthew said and ran upstairs.
Shanna’s world swirled around her, like the sensation of being sucked down into a whirling vortex from which there was no escape. “What have I done to my children?” she moaned.
“I don’t understand.”
“I’ve been fooling myself, trying to believe that they didn’t know what was going on, first with Roger and now with Ray. My six-year-old son is coming down to see if I’m crying, and my four-year-old daughter is cowering under the bed. What kind of mother am I?”
“You’re a mother who is doing her best to come out of a bad situation. Would you like me to explain what happened and assure them that something like that is never going to happen again?”
She turned to face him. “You’d do that?”
“Of course I would. I can’t speak for what happened before, but today, this is my fault. I should have knocked or at least called out that it was me. I’ll try to explain it to them. Their home should be a haven. I don’t want them to feel insecure or unsafe.”
All she could do was nod.
As she watched him go, she thought of what Roger would have done. Roger would have yelled at Matthew and told him to get back to his room, and he would have called Ashley a sissy, or worse, for hiding. Next he would have yelled at Shanna for causing him to lose his temper, commanded her to do something with her annoying children, then stomped out of the house and gone to the bar. It hadn’t been until the day he died that Shanna found out that after going to the bar, he’d been going to another woman’s house, and that was the reason he’d been coming home near sunrise. The night he died had been just like those other nights, except he hadn’t made it to the other woman’s house. It had been raining heavily, and in his drunken state, Roger had failed to negotiate a curve on the highway. His last words to Shanna had been that it was her fault that she had gotten him so angry, and that she was to blame for his drinking problem and his cheating on her.
She knew it wasn’t her fault. Pastor Harry had helped her to believe that. Ray, on the other hand, told her almost every time he saw her those first few months that it was her fault his brother was dead.
Shanna wondered what Brendan thought.
A male voice sounded from the entrance to her office. “Hello, Shanna.”
Shanna spun around. “Ray! What are you doing here?”
“You left the front door open,” he sneered. “We’re going to talk, and this time your sumo wrestler boyfriend isn’t here.” He stepped forward. Shanna backed up. “So what are you going to do?”
“Try anything, and she’ll take you to court for assault,” Brendan’s voice echoed from behind Ray.
Ray spun around. “How did you get here?”
“That’s not your concern. But I’ll tell you something that is your concern. The last time you were here you left bruises. Shanna went to the clinic and had everything documented.”
It took all of Shanna’s strength and self-control, but she didn’t back up. For once, she didn’t move. She glared into Ray’s eyes, forcing herself not to break eye contact when he glared back. “I also told the nurse about the bruises I see all the time on Evelyn’s arms. I told them that my children were afraid of you. If you don’t leave me alone, it’s not too late to charge you with assault causing bodily harm.”
His eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t do that. I’m family.”
“Yes, I would, family or not.”
Brendan stepped closer to Ray. “You’ve got a problem, Ray. You’re the worst kind of bully. You don’t just use threats and violence on strangers to get your way. You do it to people you’re supposed to love, and who love you back, for reasons I will never understand. There are people who can help you.” He reached into his back pocket for his wallet, pulled out a business card, and offered it to Ray. “Here’s a place you can call that’s completely anonymous. Don’t just do it for your wife or for Shanna. Do it for yourself.”
Ray didn’t take the card. He ground out a string of curses that nearly curled Shanna’s hair, then stomped out the way he came.
The second the front door slammed, Brendan unclipped his cell phone and punched in a phone number. “Evelyn? It’s me, Brendan. Ray just left Shanna’s, and he’s plenty mad. I’d advise you to have your neighbor come to your house right now so you’re not alone. Did you get my letter? Good. Let me know what happens.” He snapped the phone closed and clipped it back onto his belt.
Shanna stared at him. “Why did you phone Evelyn? How did you get her number? What kind of letter are you talking about?”
“They have the same last name as you. I just looked it up in the phone book. I felt I had to get involved, so I phoned Evelyn. I told her that I knew what was going on in their house, and that it was only going to get worse. I also warned her that one day soon, Ray was going to leave here and go home really angry, and that she shouldn’t be alone when that happens. I also asked for her permission to send her one of the cards that I just offered to Ray and a couple of brochures on spousal abuse.”
Shanna’s mouth dropped open.
“What he’s doing is so wrong,” Brendan continued. “God directs a husband to nourish and treasure his wife, not bully and mistreat her. God says that a man is to love his wife the way Christ loved the church. Christ loved the church so much He laid down his life for us, His church. Even when His people turned on Him, He healed the soldier’s ear. He didn’t strike back, even in self-d
efense. That’s the way a man should treat his wife, as more important than anything, even his own life. Ray really needs to go to counseling. The place I suggested is free, anonymous, and without obligation.”
Shanna stared at him. She wanted to believe that Brendan’s words came from his heart. It was exactly what she wanted to hear, which meant it was too good to be true. How did he know what to say? He’d also said the exact right things to both Ray and Ray’s wife. Giving a card as a reference they could use anytime was also a good thing to do, but Shanna wanted to know where Brendan had gotten the card. If he’d found the information from reading or by searching on the Internet, that was one thing. But if he had a card, that meant he’d been somewhere that had such cards readily available for men who needed help to control their violent tendencies.
He’d never been married. What if that was the reason?
She looked up at Brendan. She didn’t think it would ever happen, but she’d fallen in love with him. However, she’d been through the nightmare, and she wouldn’t let it happen again. Before she got involved with Brendan, she had to be sure, without any doubt, that everything was right and as it should be. She still had doubt.
Shanna backed up. “What are you going to do now?”
He turned and stared at the empty doorway, the last place they’d seen Ray before he disappeared. “I don’t trust him. I have a friend I think I’m going to call.”
A friend.
It was always a friend. When Roger had briefly tried AA, that was what he said when he called his “someone else” who had the same problem but couldn’t be identified. Someone she could never trace or talk to herself. Many times, after he’d gone to see his “friend,” he’d come home drunker than he’d been before he left.
Without excusing himself or saying good-bye, Brendan turned and disappeared through the door from which he’d come, with Boffo following close behind, leaving Shanna alone in her office. He walked to the far corner of her yard, where she couldn’t hear what he was saying, and spoke to someone on his cell phone.
The conversation was short. He was back in less than a minute.