The First Time Again: The Braddock Brotherhood, Book 3

by Barbara Meyers

  Julie had put on a few pounds since Trey had last seen her, but she was attractive in that young housewife kind of way. Coop was obviously crazy about her and their two children.

  Five-year-old Annie and three-year-old Aaron clamored for their father’s attention as soon as he walked in the door with Trey behind him.

  Coop ladled chili into bowls and recruited Trey to pour iced tea into three glasses while Julie settled the children with meals of their own.

  Julie never seemed to sit still enough to enjoy her own meal, but she somehow kept track of the thread of conversation even with constant interruptions because of the children’s needs. Cooper relayed the incident in the bar earlier.

  “Typical,” Julie said as she wiped dribbles of applesauce off Aaron’s chin.

  “Coop told me about him ticketing you for a rolling stop,” Trey put in.

  “Did Coop also happen to mention that Spoley used to hit on me all the time before he and I got together?” She gave her husband a teasing look.

  “I might have left that part out,” he admitted.

  “The guy’s obsessive,” she went on, rescuing Annie’s cup of milk from the edge of the table. “He doesn’t like to take no for an answer. I used to dread going to Apple Jack’s until Coop and I started dating.”

  “It took a while but Spoley finally found some other female to pester. Lately he’s been after—shoot—” Cooper looked at Julie. “What’s her name again? She was in your class.”

  “Baylee Westring. Nice girl. She’s friends with his brother. But yeah, ever since her divorce, Spoley’s been after her.”

  “Baylee?” Trey asked. He set his spoon down and glanced from Coop to Julie and back.

  “You know her?” Coop asked.

  “She works for me.”

  “No kidding. Doing what?”

  “Started out I needed someone to clean and stuff, but she’s doing a lot more for me now. Personal assistant, I guess you’d say.”

  A look passed between Coop and Julie, some private communication.

  “What?” Trey asked.

  “Nothing,” Julie said. “Spoley already basically hates your guts. Now you’re spending all kinds of time with the woman he’s been interested in for probably more than a year. Why don’t you just go TP his house or do doughnuts in his front yard and be done with it?

  “You all done, sweetie?” she asked Aaron. She wiped his mouth, removed his bib and released him from his booster seat.

  “Me, too,” Annie said. Julie gave her the same treatment, and Annie slid off her seat by herself.

  “You two go play or watch a video for a little while.”

  Trey pushed his empty bowl away and zeroed in on Julie. “He’s not going to make trouble for Baylee, is he? Because of me?”

  Julie’s gaze flickered to Cooper in another of those private moments.

  “You guys aren’t dating, are you?” she asked.

  Trey hesitated before he answered. “No.”

  “Uh-huh,” Julie said knowingly. She picked up her glass. “All I can tell you is Spoley’s a bit of a loose cannon. You probably don’t have anything to worry about nor does Baylee. On the other hand, I wouldn’t put anything past him. You might want to watch your back. Hers too.”

  “Great,” Trey muttered. They all pushed back from the table and began gathering dishes.

  Aaron approached Trey, dragging a blanket with him, his thumb in his mouth and a book tucked under one arm. He tilted his head back to stare up at Trey, offering him the book. “Read,” he commanded, removing his thumb from his mouth long enough to get the request out. “Pwease.”

  Both Coop and Julie jumped in to thwart their son’s demand, but Trey waved off their objections. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.” He crossed to the sofa and opened the book. Aaron crawled up next to him. Annie watched warily from across the room. Trey patted the sofa cushion on the other side of him. “Do you want to help me, Annie? I might not know all the words.”

  Annie looked at her mother, who nodded encouragement. She pretended reluctance but took the seat Trey had indicated. He opened the book and began to read. Cooper and Julie disappeared into the kitchen.

  The book was about brightly colored dinosaurs and dragons who spoke in silly rhymes in an effort to get each other to accept their differences. Trey thought it was ridiculous, but both kids seem to think it was great fun.

  When he got to the last page, Aaron’s thumb popped out of his mouth. “’Nother one.” He scooted off the couch and ran from the room. Annie raced after him. They reappeared in seconds with another book. Inwardly Trey groaned. He could hear Cooper and Julie chatting in the kitchen. Entertaining their kids for a little while was probably the least he could do to repay them for dinner.

  “Okay, one more,” he agreed. “But then I have to go. It’s past my bedtime.”

  He winked at Annie and she giggled. He opened the book.

  That could have been me, he thought on the drive home. If he hadn’t made it into the NFL, hadn’t left home, he’d probably have a life very much like Cooper’s or Brandon’s. A wife and kids and house with a mortgage and a job in the family business. He tried to imagine himself working side by side with his father at the hardware store. He’d never wanted to, but now it didn’t seem like it’d be so bad. Not that his father would ask for his help.

  He turned in to his driveway at the same time his thoughts turned to Baylee. Something about her unsettled him. She got under his skin without even trying. He wanted…what? To impress her? No, that wasn’t it. He wanted her approval? No, not that either. Acceptance. That’s what he wanted from her. No judgment. No preconceived ideas about who he was based on local gossip and his public persona. He’d like, for once, to be himself and have that be enough.

  Baylee slunk down, propped her knees on the seat in front of her and tried to enjoy the movie, but it was proving impossible.

  “What’s the matter?” Dusty whispered without taking his gaze away from the action on the screen.

  “Nothing,” she whispered back. “I’m fine.”

  Except her concentration kept breaking and her thoughts kept wandering in Trey’s direction.

  At least she had popcorn, she comforted herself, as she munched contentedly. She and Dusty were sharing an extra large Coke with lots of ice.

  She had noticed Trey and Ryan in the crowd at Apple Jack’s earlier, but luckily there was enough of an after-work crush to make it unnecessary for them to acknowledge each other. She’d been aware, however, of Trey’s gaze on her, his contemplation of her companion.

  If he’d asked, she’d have told him the truth. She’d known Dusty since he’d been a band geek in high school, and they’d gone to college together. Even though Dusty was in the science department and Baylee was studying business and finance, their paths continued to cross, and they’d found themselves hanging out more and more often with mutual acquaintances and then just the two of them.

  It had never occurred to Baylee that she could have a guy who wasn’t gay as a platonic friend, but that’s what Dusty was. They saw each other once or twice a month for a movie or a meal or to hang out and do nothing. Dusty was a certified gemologist, and he worked for one of the largest jewelry-making outfits in the state.

  While Baylee adored Dusty, she’d never cared for his twin brother Justin, who’d always seemed a bit too full of himself for her taste. She’d made it clear she wasn’t interested, but Justin hadn’t given up asking her out. She wished Dusty would tell his brother to lay off. Even though Dusty and Justin weren’t close the way twins were expected to be, she’d learned early on that Dusty didn’t take criticism of his brother particularly well.

  While she’d talked and laughed with Dusty, sipped her ginger ale and listened to his stories, a part of her had tracked Trey.

  She sighed and took a sip of Coke and admonished herself to concentrate on the movie. Trey probably wouldn’t give her another thought until she showed up for work on Monday. If only she could do th
e same with him.

  Matty stepped off the bus and began the walk up the street with a lightness he rarely felt. Today was the last day of school, and he had all summer to basically do as he pleased, which meant he’d divide his time between the animal shelter and Mamacita’s.

  He groaned inwardly as he approached the house and saw the white compact parked in front of it and Jack Frost leaning against it.

  The probation officer’s gaze tracked his movements until he stopped a few feet away.

  “Mateo.”

  “Hi.”

  “Need to talk to you.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Jack Frost gestured at the porch steps. “Let’s sit down.”

  Matty dropped his book bag as they took a seat side by side. Jack clasped his hands together and stared at the crumbling concrete of the sidewalk. “I hear you passed all your classes,” he began. “In spite of missing quite a few of them.”

  Matty shrugged. School wasn’t much of a challenge. It wasn’t hard to keep up even if he blew off a class here and there. He’d figured out how to stay under everyone’s radar and maintain a B average.

  “What are your plans for the summer?”

  “Nothing.” Matty knew better than to offer another shrug. Jack Frost might be an okay guy, but there was a limit to his patience with nonverbal responses.

  “Be a good idea if you could find a part-time job. The Dixie Cream hires at sixteen,” Jack said, referring to the local ice cream shop. “So does Piggly Wiggly.”

  “Okay.”

  “You’ve got another fifty hours of community service at the animal shelter, too, because of your missed classes and curfew violations,” Jack reminded him.

  “Yeah,” Matty agreed because Jack had already told him this when he’d done his last check-in.

  Jack tapped Matty’s shoulder and rose. “Try to stay out of trouble for the summer, all right? Finish your community service and you can be off probation by the time school starts up again.”

  Matty nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Trey limped along behind Mary Ann Simpson, the official animal shelter tour guide. She was a fiftyish, no-nonsense type, dressed in baggy jeans, worn sneakers and a faded pink polo shirt with the shelter’s logo on the pocket.

  They exited the building housing the reception area, the clinic and the temporary home for rescued and rejected felines. Trey’d never seen so many cats in one place.

  As soon as she opened the door to a long, low, barn-like structure and they stepped inside, the barks of what sounded like a thousand dogs began. Trey resisted the urge to cover his ears since Mary Ann showed no reaction. She simply raised her voice over the din and kept up her constant patter about his duties.

  “We keep the dogs as long as we can, but, of course, we’re forced to euthanize a fair number of them.” Trey winced as he glanced from side to side at the hopeful eyes and wagging tails of the miscellaneous mongrels. Most were barking, pawing at the cage doors, begging for a moment of attention. A couple stayed in the backs of their pens, defeated and resigned to their fates.

  “You’ll need to hose down the pens when you come in,” Mary Ann informed him. She’d come to a stop at a spigot and a hose. She unwound the hose and turned on the water. “No need to open the gate. Keep your hose low to the floor. The water will run off into the troughs on either side, see?” Trey nodded as she efficiently squirted water to wash off the excrement and urine. The occupant of the cage, a spotted hound mix, apparently knew the ropes and stepped aside as needed to avoid the spray.

  “Then rinse the trough,” Mary Ann continued while she demonstrated. “It’ll wash out the other side. You’ll have to go around and collect it.”

  Great, Trey thought. Fifty hours of cleaning dog urine and picking up puppy poop just because he himself had needed to pee so badly. Talk about karma.

  She turned the hose off and rewound it. “I’ll show you.”

  On the other side of the pens, sure enough, there were grates for the water to drain out as it came through the trough. Any solid matter remained on top of the grate. Mary Ann donned a pair of rubber gloves, picked up a bucket and dumped the solid waste into it. “’Course some days, one of the other volunteers might have already done this and you won’t have to. But it’s your job to check the pens and see that they’re clean. You start with that. Any of them need to be hosed down, you do it.”

  “Got it,” Trey replied.

  “You make sure the water bowls are full of fresh water. Use the hose. The bowls are attached to the inside of the gates.

  “Next thing is you check to see if any of the dogs are scheduled for pick-up.” She showed him where that information would be. “See, now today, we’ve got two.” She picked up a clipboard and scanned the paperwork. “Riley and Spanky. You’ll need to bathe them, walk them out in the yard afterward and then bring them to one of the holding cages in the main building. I’ll show you where and how to bathe them.”

  “I can do it, Mrs. Simpson,” said a voice behind them.

  Trey and Mary Ann turned at the same moment, and Mary Ann gave a whoop of delight. “Speaking of volunteers,” she said to Trey, “Matty here is one of our best.” She enveloped the boy in a motherly hug, which he awkwardly allowed. A smile hovered around his mouth until his gaze met Trey’s, and Trey could have sworn he blushed.

  The boy looked to be about sixteen or seventeen, tall and slender with straight black hair that needed the attention of a barber. His golden-brown skin mixed surprisingly well with his hazel eyes.

  Mary Ann released him and patted his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here today. This is Trey Christopher. You can show him the ropes.”

  Trey stretched out a hand and Matty shook it. His grip was firm, but he seemed unsure about the gesture, as if he was feeling his way through the maze of social niceties.

  After Mary Ann left, Matty gestured for Trey to follow him. He picked up a leash and opened one of the cages, which held a medium-sized mixed breed with short, mottled fur and long, droopy ears. The dog’s tail twirled round and round as he squirmed in excitement at the attention Matty showed him.

  “Hi, Riley. Hi there, boy.” He let the dog lick his neck and face while he rubbed its neck and chest. “You found a family, huh, boy? Somebody to love you? Lucky you.”

  Trey watched in silence, wondering if he imagined the trace of wistfulness in Matty’s voice as he spoke to the dog.

  “Okay, come on.” He looped one end of the leash around Riley’s neck and the dog leaped and squirmed, doing his best to trip Matty in his excitement.

  Matty expertly led the dog back the way they’d come to the room with a large, low, stainless-steel tub and a spray-arm attachment above it. He handed the dog off to Trey. “You want to hold on to him while I get the water ready?”

  Since squatting to pet the dog was an impossibility, Trey sank onto a nearby chair. He stroked a hand over Riley’s head. The dog gazed at him in adoration. “Sit,” Trey told him. Surprising him, the dog sat. Trey grinned. “Hey, good boy.” He held up a hand. “High five.” Riley lifted a paw and swatted at Trey’s hand. “Are you kidding me? Somebody trained this dog.”

  “Yeah,” Matty agreed without turning around.

  “What else can you do, boy, huh?” Trey pointed to the floor. “Down.” Obediently, Riley lay down, his eyes bright and alert.

  “I don’t get it,” Trey said. “Somebody was interested enough to train him. How’d he end up here?”

  Matty shrugged and spoke over the sound of running water. “Maybe they couldn’t keep him or didn’t want him anymore. People throw out things all the time. Pets. Kids. A dog doesn’t have any say in what people do. One day he’s got a roof over his head. The next day he’s roaming the streets.” Matty shrugged again.

  “Well, yeah, but if they took the time to teach him stuff, they must have valued him. Otherwise, why bother?”

  Matty apparently considered that a rhetorical question. He turned and to
ok the leash from Trey. “Want to come and watch?” He led Riley back to the sink, picked him up and lowered him into the tub of water. Trey moved closer.

  Matty pumped dog shampoo from an industrial-size container and began to lather Riley’s fur. “Start up by the neck and go all the way around in case they’ve picked up any fleas. This stuff will kill them. Work your way down all over.” He demonstrated, although it wasn’t like Trey’d never bathed a dog before. Before Bo, his parents had another golden retriever named Buster from whom Trey had been inseparable.

  Riley looked like he was in heaven as Matty worked the lather from his neck to his tail and then rinsed him. Matty kept the dog in the sink until the last of the dirty water had drained. He picked up a threadbare towel and draped it over the dog. “You want to dry him off? Then we’ll take him outside.”

  Obediently Trey rubbed at Riley’s fur, although the towel was no match for the moisture it was trying to absorb. He looked around for another one, but Matty shook his head. “Miss Simpson says only one. Budget cuts.” He slipped the leash back on Riley and lifted him out of the sink. Riley promptly shook himself, spraying Trey and Matty with droplets of water. “Okay,” Matty informed him. “Let’s go.”

  They went out a back door to a fenced-in, grassy area. When Matty released him, Riley trotted over to the nearest fence post and lifted his leg. Once finished, he put his nose to the ground, then ambled across the grass and squatted to do his business. He came back to Matty and Trey and gazed at them expectantly, tail wagging.

  “Wish we had a ball,” Trey said. “Maybe he’d chase it.” He made a mental note to bring one with him next time.

  Matty patted Riley’s side. “His new family will play with him. Right, Riley?” Riley gazed at Matty adoringly. “I’ll take him in and get Spanky. You want to start filling the tub?”

  Matty allowed Trey to give Spanky a bath under his close supervision. The kid wasn’t afraid to offer helpful hints or point out that Trey needed to bathe the dog everywhere, including his undercarriage. Spanky wasn’t as thrilled to get a bath as Riley had been. He squirmed and fought the restraint and shook himself off every chance he got until Trey’s midsection was soaked.