Love at First Bark

by Debbie Burns

  “The two of Pepper’s puppies that haven’t been adopted.”

  Mia nodded. “That makes sense. What’re you thinking?”

  “I would set up the playpen two feet in front of the tree. Ollie would sit inside with them. If we put in three fresh chew toys, they would leave his clothes and book alone.”

  “A Rottweiler-mix puppy video on Christmas Eve. Patrick, you’re a genius! And as long as Ollie’s name isn’t listed and I’m not tagged, I’m fine with it. Great, actually.” Mia dropped her gloves over the top of the spray bottle. Patrick had developed quite the knack for knowing what the shelter’s eighty thousand social media followers liked to see and share, and she could imagine this post being a big success. “I’m done here after I put stuff away and wash my hands. Want me to help you set up, or can I help in the back?”

  He gave a determined shake of his head, as if she’d just offered him a cracker with soft goat cheese, one of his particular dislikes. “No, I’ll set up. I’m finished feeding and watering the dogs. You could start taking out the over-seventies. Then when I finish, we’ll take out the twosies.”

  Mia packed up the cleaning supplies and trash bag and nodded. The over-seventies were the dogs that weighed seventy pounds and over. When the shelter was closed, the outside runs were shut off, and the bigger guys needed a quick walk or some time in the play area to stretch their legs. The twosies were dogs who for one reason or another required two people’s attention when being taken out. “I’d love to take some dogs out. And would you like to tell Ollie, or should I?”

  Patrick had turned and was headed toward the Christmas tree by the front window but paused to give her a short but dubious look. “You,” was all he offered before turning his attention back to setting up for the shoot.

  Mia suppressed a giggle. Patrick thinking up this post was as much of a compliment as he’d ever offered Ollie. And even if he had no real intention of bonding with her son, Mia was happy to take what she could get.

  “Hey, Ol,” she said as she headed into the back. “Follow me to the supply room for a minute, will you?”

  Ollie raised his head high as he looked at her. His floppy Santa hat had fallen over his eyebrows and was limiting his view. “Why?”

  “Because I have some fun news.”

  He shrugged, shutting his book and setting it on the stool. He trailed after her in a zigzag fashion, walking from one side of the kennels to the other, and piquing the attention of several dogs.

  Mia gave him the lowdown of Patrick’s idea as she shelved the cleaning supplies and scrubbed up in the utility sink. “What do you think of that?” she asked as she shut off the water.

  Ollie was chewing on his lower lip. He didn’t look nervous, just thoughtful. “Will people care that I make up the words?”

  “No, hon, not at all. In fact, I’m sure they’ll love it. And Patrick’s clips are usually less than a minute, so you won’t have to make up an entire story.”

  “Cool. Pepper’s puppies are almost as cute as Sam. Sam’s just fluffier.” He pinched the fuzzy white ball on the end of his hat. “Which story do you think the puppies would like most?”

  Finished drying her hands, Mia swept him up in a tight hug. “Whichever one you want to read them, little man. As mouthy as they are, I suspect they’ll mostly be chewing on the toys Patrick puts in there.” She gave his belly a little tickle as she pulled away. “But you know that since you’ve played with them before.”

  “Yeah. They’re slobbery and their teeth are sharp and they look more like baby bears than puppies.”

  Mia laughed. “Yeah, that pretty much sums them up at this point.”

  Ollie got resettled in front of the Bernese mountain dog, and Mia headed out the back door with Tiny. Outside was gray and overcast, but the light wind carried a warm humidity that reminded her of early spring instead of winter. She zipped up her hoodie, but it was warm enough not to need a coat at the moment, which was a touch disappointing for Christmas Eve.

  After letting Tiny trudge along and scent mark on every rock that sparked his interest in the Island of Many Smells, a rock island at the back of the lot that had become most dogs’ favorite scent-marking stop, she took him for a short walk on the new path at the side of the building between the shelter and the jewelry store next door. It wove around a narrow strip of cedars and oak trees, and the shelter team had enhanced the short path with several stop-and-sniff points to keep the dogs’ interest. It certainly worked for Tiny. He lumbered along, sniffing everything in sight including a few ropes and woven bird nests filled with scented pinecones, and somehow came up with a bit more urine to leave his scent along the way.

  At close to a hundred and seventy pounds, Tiny was anything but small. The tops of his shoulders were higher than Mia’s hips, but he walked on the leash like a gentle giant. Due to his age and large size, he was showing signs of hip dysplasia. To combat its negative effects, he was now on a few medicines and a prescription diet, and was being taken on slow, easy walks several times a day.

  By the time he’d had a good stretch of the legs and she’d gotten him kenneled, Mia figured it was time to check in with Patrick. Ollie was no longer in back either. When she reached sight of the glass doors, she froze midstep. Ben was here.

  Ben was here. Not on the other side of a phone a safe distance away. Her stomach flipped, and adrenaline raced through her limbs. The last time she’d seen him, she’d climbed uninvited onto his lap and kissed the crap out of him until he’d kissed her back. If she could melt into a puddle, she would.

  He was laughing and kneeling outside the playpen just behind Ollie. Ollie was inside, seated but doubled over as the puppies tackled him. She could hear her son’s giggly laughter even before pushing past the double doors.

  Patrick was catty-corner behind them, setting up the GoPro on a tripod.

  “Hey, guys!” She pushed through the doors, willing her voice to sound excited and not nervous-squeaky, without much success.

  Ben was the first to turn. As he rose to his feet, he offered a little nod that seemed more intimate than courteous, making her face heat even more.

  This was Ben. She’d known him for nearly eight years. And she’d already sort of addressed the kiss over a text. Seeing him now didn’t have to be awkward. Yeah, right, there’s no getting past this without a bit of awkward.

  “Did you call? My phone’s in my purse.”

  “Ah, no. Your mom invited me over tonight. I was on my way and saw the car out front.”

  “Cool,” she managed along with a nod. She swallowed and motioned toward Patrick and the camera. “I guess they filled you in on Patrick’s idea?”

  “We told him,” Ollie said as Patrick agreed. Still laughing, Ollie pushed the excited puppies back from their onslaught and twisted to face her, rising up to his knees. “Mom, can you guys not watch? So it’s a surprise when Patrick posts it?” His cheek and sections of his hair were damp from puppy licks.

  Mia glanced at Ben. “Yeah, sure, as long as you agree to take a bath before dinner tonight to get some of those kisses off.”

  “Patrick isn’t putting the chew toys in until they’ve acclimated,” Ben said. “That way the pups will settle down when Ollie reads to them.”

  “Makes sense. Well, it sounds like you two have it covered.” She stepped forward and planted a kiss on a dry spot of Ollie’s forehead. “Good luck, sweets. You’re going to rock this.”

  Ben gave him a high five, then looked her way. “So what can I help you with?”

  She looked to Patrick. His face was buried in the camera as he found the best placement for the tripod. “He can help with the twosies since both of the dogs we have right now are green-lighted,” he said, proving for the hundredth time his ability to multitask.

  Mia swallowed. Just her and Ben and short walks with one twosie at a time. That wouldn’t be intimate or awkward at all
. Nope, not at all.

  “Uh, sure. Ollie, come find us when you’re finished,” she said as she headed toward the kennels with Ben following. When the double doors swung shut behind them, her stomach did a cartwheel.

  A corgi-beagle mix near the doors stood up and stretched, then headed to the front of her kennel for a sniff. Mia paused to scratch what she could reach of the dog’s forehead through the wire.

  “So, should I guess what a twosie is?” Ben stopped in front of a German shepherd who’d just been moved out of quarantine yesterday.

  A bit of Mia’s hesitation slipped away at the opportunity to focus on the shelter. “It’s shelter slang for dogs who require two people’s attention when they’re out of their kennels. Sometimes it’s because they’re really stressed and need some help adjusting to shelter life. But there are other reasons too, like both the twosies here now. One dog, an Old English sheepdog, has recently come out of hip surgery and sometimes needs a boost when she’s being walked. The other one, a Bernese mountain dog, is half blind and really stubborn. Sometimes he needs a boost to get moving too.”

  Mia grabbed a leash and a fresh handful of treats, and Ben joined her in front of Kit, the sheepdog, who was sprawled across her kennel. Kit had long, shaggy hair and was wearing a red bow on top of her head to keep it out of her eyes. “She’s an owner surrender,” Mia said. “Her owners couldn’t afford to give her the care she needed, so they dropped her off here about a month ago. Her back left hip was bad, and she needed surgery. She seemed to be one of those medium-cared-for dogs, not abused, but not superloved either. I think she spent most of her life outside, but she was fed and her basic needs were met. They called her Cousin It because of the hair in her eyes. No one here was fond of that, so we renamed her Kit. She’s sweet as can be, and she’s walking better all the time.”

  Ben shook his head. “When I hear these things, it makes me want to adopt them all.”

  “I’ve volunteered here half my life, and for most of us, that never goes away.” She shrugged. “So I just love the crap out of them while they’re here and celebrate when they go to good homes.”

  “Makes sense.” He laughed softly.

  Mia lifted Kit’s support harness off the hook and held it and the leash out toward Ben. “Front or back?”

  “Ah, you can drive. I’ll head up the rear,” he said, reaching for the harness. He stretched it out, lifting it by the handles. “Just slip it under her stomach and hold on to the straps?”

  “Yep. She’ll let you know how much support she needs. Usually it’s mostly in the beginning, then less as she warms up.” Mia opened the kennel door wide and knelt down to give Kit a good scratch behind the ears. “She’s been standing up on her own. I’ll give her a minute to see if she does.”

  As Mia hoped, not long after, Kit got her front legs under her, then heaved into a three-legged stance, holding her back left leg off the ground before tentatively placing it down.

  “Good girl,” Mia praised, offering her a few treats. Kit shoved her nose into Mia’s palm and nuzzled around before swiping them up with her tongue.

  Once Kit was hooked up and supported by the harness, they took off at a snail’s pace and headed out the back door. Mia had helped walk countless twosies over the years, but she couldn’t remember being so acutely aware of another walker’s presence so close to her. The fact that Ben was behind rather than in front didn’t help as much as she might’ve thought. Even before they’d stepped outside and away from the familiar smell of the kennels, she was savoring the cedary scent of his cologne. He was in jeans and an outdoorsy olive-green wool sweater with its three buttons open at the collar, accenting the perfectly formed trapezius underneath and reminding her how much she wouldn’t mind losing herself in that sculpted neck or the shadow of stubble along the ridge of his jaw.

  As Kit warmed up, it no longer felt as if a snail could outpace them. They started down the strip of woods, and Kit came to a complete stop next to one of the seasonally decorated cedars. She seemed entranced with watching the erratic flight of a nearby bird. As usual, her strength was picking up as they walked. Her gait was steady and even, and Ben seemed to be holding on to the straps now as a precaution rather than to help lift her.

  “So, as you may be guessing,” Mia said to fill the silence, “walking most of the twosies isn’t that exciting.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I could do this all day.”

  Mia glanced behind her to catch him raising an eyebrow at her. “What, life at a slower pace?”

  “That would be a should do, not a could do.”

  Mia had just started to ask what the “could do” meant when something about the way he was looking at her told her she might not be ready for his answer. She stopped midsentence and pressed her lips together. She swallowed and did her best to refocus on Kit, whose head was raised as she watched a gray bird flutter about in a nearby tree, her ponytail of forehead hair flopping every which way.

  Mia was about to attempt a change of topic and ask if he knew what type of bird it was that had caught Kit’s interest when she heard Ben give a quiet “Come here.”

  Before she knew it, he was stepping in close, his free hand locking over the back of her hair, and his lips were closing over hers.

  Like the first time, his kiss seemed to address everything she could possibly be craving. Her blood raced through her veins, and she opened her mouth to his reflexively. She wanted to lose herself in his kiss, to press in against him and lock her hand around his jaw or over his shoulder. She wanted to savor his taste as much as she did the feel of him.

  Only she was sober this time and Ollie wasn’t far away and something about this was real in a way nothing had been in a long time, and it scared the hell out of her.

  She took a step back, an almost involuntary one. “Ben, I…I don’t know…” She shook her head. “So maybe I don’t know what it is that I don’t know. I just—”

  “Mia, I know.” He brushed his thumb across her cheek. “Trust me, I do. I just thought it might be easier to move forward if you weren’t the only one who’d taken that risk.”

  An embarrassed laugh tumbled out of her. “Are you seriously telling me you just kissed me so things aren’t as awkward tonight?”

  “I didn’t mean to imply that I didn’t want to.” He leaned down and lifted her chin, brushing his lips over hers a second time. He started to pull away but then met her gaze and came in again, making this kiss longer, slower.

  Mia closed her hand over his shoulder to steady herself as it continued. She must’ve been holding her breath because she became a bit dizzy. When he finally moved away, he pulled her into a one-armed hug and brushed his lips against her forehead.

  “Thank you.” She laughed at herself for thanking him for a kiss and buried her face in his chest. “It helps. Mostly. I did climb onto your lap though. That’s going to be hard to get over.”

  He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “No pun intended, huh?”

  She laughed harder and stepped back. “That’s not funny.” She bit her lip. “Okay, it’s funny. A little funny. Seriously, Ben, everything’s so complicated, and this doesn’t make it any less so.”

  Ben locked his hand in hers as Kit woofed at the bird as it swooped closer, chirping loudly at Kit and flicking its long tail.

  “You’re right. Things are complicated, and I don’t think that’s going to change anytime soon. So how about just letting go and taking tonight and the next few days as they are? No questions. No heavy talk or decisions. Just making sure Ollie has a fun Christmas.”

  Mia drew a long breath and nodded. “That sounds like a really good plan. But can I ask one more thing first?”

  “Yeah. Anything.”

  She gave an exaggerated bat of her eyes. “If that’s the case, would you mind kissing me once more? If you do, I’m pretty sure I’ll have the stre
ngth to make it through anything, even facing Victor and Irene on Christmas morning after this.”

  He narrowed his eyes, cocking his head sideways a bit. “That’s two people, so I’m pretty sure that means I’ll need to kiss you twice.” Then his lips met hers again, and the fear and hesitation that had been rising inside her ebbed away until it was just him and her and a barking dog and a territorial little bird.

  * * *

  Mia pulled up her weather app to confirm the same thing that a quick trip outside this morning had foreshadowed. The remaining ten days of Ollie’s winter break weren’t at all promising in regard to his wish to build a snowman, even a small one. Thankfully, in the lively spirit of the morning, Ollie didn’t yet seem to mind that Christmas had dawned with warm, drizzly rain instead of snow.

  Christmas morning also brought Victor and Irene to the house. They’d never been to Mia’s grandparents’ house before, and Mia wasn’t surprised by their poorly hidden disdain for the dated thirteen-hundred-square-foot bungalow she and Ollie were living in. Yes, seemed to be their collective thought, Mia chose this over life in a considerably nicer Central West End house with our son five months ago. Perhaps she had a brush of insanity.

  Mia had done her best to love and accept them while she was married, but the love they’d held for their son was so wrapped up in pride and judgment that she could go the rest of her life without seeing them and not be sad. However, Victor and Irene had been coming to watch Ollie open presents on Christmas morning ever since he was one, and no matter what her issues were, they’d just lost a son.

  To make matters even less pleasant, not only were Ollie’s grandparents notoriously stern and serious, they were anything but dog crazy. While Sadie and Sam figured out pretty quickly they’d get no affection from these new visitors, Mia wasn’t doing anything to correct the dogs’ wild excitement as the morning wore on.

  And as Mia had learned during the previous time or two her mom had been home over the holidays, Irene and Victor and Lynn in the same confined space were like Mentos and Diet Coke. Irene and Victor were country clubs and galas and weekend trips to Aspen and New York, while Lynn was a green-living minimalist who wasn’t timid about sharing her opinions on lavish lifestyles and saw no reason not to wear her brightest African-print wrap skirt and Maasai sandals to Christmas breakfast.