Shara's Happy New-foundland Year

by Tamie Dearen

  It was a trap—James was sure of it. If he said she deserved that kind of husband, Gerard would tell him he wasn’t worthy of the role. After all, who could love a girl the way Jesus loved the church? If he said she didn’t deserve that kind of husband, Gerard would say he didn’t really love her.

  “I’ll admit she deserves a lot better than me, but she could also do a lot worse.”

  Gerard’s hands came up and covered his face. His muffled voice spoke, “This isn’t going to be easy.”

  “You’re telling me,” James agreed. “The only reason she’s even talking to me is because we have joint custody of a puppy.”

  “Joint custody of a puppy?” Gerard’s jaw dropped.

  “It’s a long story. It’s a Newfoundland puppy—really cute. Not as cute as Shara, of course, but really cute.” James rose to his feet, checking the time on his cell phone. “In fact, I’m supposed to be at her house in thirty minutes to pick him up. Any words of advice?”

  His boss massaged the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezed shut tight, as if he were in pain. “You should bring her flowers,” he said, as the corners of his mouth stretched back in a grimace. “And try not to speak.”

  Chapter Five

  Shara plopped onto the couch with Fez in her lap to enjoy their last few hours together. She stroked his soft fur, and he rolled over, giving her access to his belly.

  “I’m going to miss you so much,” she told him as she scratched around his collar, buried in the thick fur. “I can’t believe I’m even saying that, considering how much sleep you cost me this week.”

  She bent over to kiss him on the nose, giggling when he tried to nip at her chin.

  “Now, I want you to be good for James, but not too good. You need to cry at night, like you did for me, so he’ll get a real taste of puppy ownership. We don’t want him fighting too hard to keep you.”

  Fez twisted to his feet, scaling her chest like a climbing wall, his sharp nails scratching her skin. She grabbed him in her hands just as the doorbell rang. James was early, and she hadn’t had time to pick up the mess. Clothing littered the floor. Fez had dumped over her hamper and made a game of dragging laundry items all over the apartment, including bras and underwear. Dropping Fezzik on the floor, she ran to the front door, standing on her toes to see through the peephole. James’ distorted face stared back at her from up close, and she let out a startled squeal.

  “Just a minute!” she yelled, as she scurried about, grabbing her undergarments and tossing them in the coat closet. She scooped up Fez, who was chewing on a pair of socks, and kicked the rest of the laundry into a pile behind the couch.

  Before opening the door, she formulated a plan in her head. She would allow James inside to gather Fezzik’s things, but she wouldn’t invite him to sit down. That way, he would be there long enough for her eyes to drink their fill of him, but not so long that she would be tempted to get back together with him.

  Resolute in her strategy, she flung the door open. “Hi Ja—” The name died on her lips, and all the air left her lungs at once. “You brought me flowers?”

  “Yes.” A wrinkle appeared on his forehead. “Is that such a surprise?”

  She stared at the beautiful bouquet in his hands—yellow mums, purple iris, and some kind of exotic white flowers. “You never gave me flowers before.”

  “I didn’t?”

  She shook her head, blinking fast, as tears threatened to fall.

  “Not even for Valentine’s Day? Geez! No wonder you broke up with me.” He pushed past her, striding through the apartment into the kitchen.

  “That’s not why I broke up with you.” She followed behind him, still carrying Fezzik.

  “Tell me again... why did you break up with me?” James grabbed a vase from the assortment she kept on top of her refrigerator, arranged the flowers inside, and filled it with water.

  She couldn’t think of a safe explanation, so she remained silent. When he’d placed the flowers in the center of the worn wood table in the corner of the small kitchen, he looked up with an expectant expression. She decided to change to a safe subject. “He’s adorable isn’t he?”

  His dimples flashed—a deep one on the left, while the right was less noticeable—and she realized he didn’t smile as much as he used to. His asymmetrical dimples were one of the things that seemed so unique and charming to her, and she missed them. “Looks like he’s bigger, already.”

  “He should be,” Shara said. “I would’ve gained about fifty pounds if I ate as much as him.”

  “How is your appetite, lately?”

  “Fine.”

  He knotted his brows at her one-word answer, but she refused to give him any more details. The lemon wedges Noelle recommended seemed to be keeping her nausea under control, but her appetite was less than ideal. She had no intention, however, of telling James any of that. She knew from experience the man was hard to resist when he was in a protective mode.

  “Why don’t I make us some hot chocolate, and we can drink it while you fill me in on everything I need to know about Fezzik.”

  “Uhmm...” This was not going according to plan.

  He fetched two mugs from the cabinet before she even had a chance to object.

  A knock sounded at the door.

  “Who’s that?” She glared at James. He must be up to something. Who could he have invited over? David and Noelle?

  She stomped to the door and peeked through the hole. With a gasp, she whipped around to stare at James. She wanted to run, but there was no place to go.

  “Who is it?” he asked.

  “It’s my dad.” Her breath came in short, quick pants. She leaned against the door as the room swam. The knocking started again, louder and more insistent.

  “I finally get to meet your father.” James wore a pleasant expression, totally unsuspecting of what lay waiting outside the door.

  “Shhhh! Don’t say anything,” she whispered. In a panic, she put Fez on the floor and grabbed James by his shirtsleeve, hauling him over to the coat closet. She opened the door, shoved him inside, and shut it in his face. “Sorry about this, James, but it’s for your own good.”

  Chapter Six

  Shara threw up a frantic prayer, consisting of “Help me” repeated about a thousand times in rapid succession. With trembling hands, she pulled the baggie of lemon from her cardigan pocket. When a whiff didn’t quell her nausea, she took a bite of the wedge, as Noelle had suggested.

  “Shara! Open this door!” The knocking became thuds that shook the door on its hinges.

  As she swallowed the saliva that flowed in her mouth like a fountain, she unlocked the deadbolt and cracked the door open, with the toe of her boot against the bottom of the door.

  “Hi, Dad. This isn’t a good time. Can you come back tomorrow?”

  His hand wedged in the crack, grasping the doorframe, and he leaned close, the alcohol on his breath almost knocking her off her feet. “Why don’t you want me inside?”

  “Because you’re drunk. Now go home and sleep it off.” She glanced behind her to be certain James was still safely tucked away in the closet.

  “I’m not drunk. I only had a couple of beers. I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me.”

  He shoved the door with his elbow and her foot slipped a little, allowing him to get an arm inside. She had an insane urge to chop it off at the elbow.

  “What do you want, Dad? Are you out of money again? Is that it? Because I don’t have any cash on me.”

  With all his weight, he pushed his way inside and moved straight toward the kitchen, his uneven gait giving the same testimony as his pungent breath. Shara scooped up the puppy and followed him, trying to figure the fastest way to get rid of him.

  “You got any beer?” he asked, opening her refrigerator.

  “You know I never have alcohol here. Why do you even ask?”

  He shut the fridge, turning woeful eyes her direction. “It wouldn’t hurt you to keep a few beers for your old man.
”

  “You aren’t supposed to be drinking alcohol, remember? Plus, I’m on a tight budget.”

  A muffled thunk sounded behind her.

  “What was that?” Her father jerked his head toward the closet. “You got rats in this place?”

  “No, I had some boxes balanced on the top shelf.” The blood pulsed in her ears like a base drum. “Now, tell me what you want, so you can leave and I can go to bed. I haven’t been sleeping well. My puppy’s been keeping me awake at night.”

  His gaze went to Fezzik, and his eyebrows flew up. “You have a dog.” It sounded like an accusation. “If you can afford a dog, you could afford a few beers.”

  “I’m not buying you beer, so forget it. I know you want something. Let’s get it over with.”

  His lips curved downward as he feigned offense. “Can’t a father want to spend time with his only daughter? Why do you always accuse me of wanting something?”

  She couldn’t have stopped her eyes from rolling if she’d wanted to. He wobbled his way out of the kitchen and collapsed on the couch, stretching out as if he’d found his place for the night.

  “I wouldn’t sit there, if I were you,” she said. “The puppy has fleas. I sprayed that sofa tonight.” That was an outright lie. I guess there’s no hope of God helping me now.

  He sprang from the couch with surprising nimbleness, considering his inebriated condition, and edged away from her and the dog, which he now regarded with wary eyes. He glanced around the sparsely furnished room. “Where can I sit?”

  “Nowhere is really safe.” Shara scratched her head with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Tell me what you want.”

  “I was going to give you a report on my new business.”

  “Okay. Go ahead.”

  He pushed his lower lip into a pout. “It’s going well. Thank you for asking.”

  “Great! I’ll talk to you about it tomorrow.” She hooked her arm around his elbow and tugged him toward the door, stumbling sideways.

  “Wait.” He shook himself free. “I have room for a few more investors. I want to meet your boyfriend. This would be a great opportunity for him. Doesn’t he work at Holiday, Inc.? He’s probably got plenty of dough burning a hole in his pocket.”

  She groaned, though she wasn’t surprised at his proposal. Dr. Madison had already banned him from the dental office for accosting patients to buy into his latest so-called business. “Sorry. We broke up.”

  “You broke up? Baby, I’m sorry. You really liked him, didn’t you? I thought he was going to be your ticket out.”

  The sad puppy-dog expression on his face was filled with genuine sympathy, and it almost broke her heart. It was a rare thing for her father to think of someone besides himself. She hoped their voices were soft enough that James wouldn’t understand. She didn’t want him thinking she was using him as her “ticket out.”

  Her dad patted her arm. Then he stopped and sprang backwards, wearing a don’t-let-the-fleas-get-on-me expression.

  “It was for the best, Dad.” She lowered her voice. “I wouldn’t have fit in with his family, you know?”

  “Figures!” He leaned a shoulder against the front door. “He was too fancy-smancy for our kind, huh?”

  “Just not into commitment.” That much was true, and she could hardly say she broke up with James to give him a fighting chance at salvation. Her father would go ballistic about judgmental Christians, even though she’d made the decision without anyone’s help.

  “You’ll find someone better. But I’d recommend avoiding those church people. Way too critical, and not much fun.” He gave a sharp nod, satisfied the matter was settled.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Hey!” He straightened. “Some of those church friends might be looking for a good investment.”

  “I don’t have any friends from church. I quit going.”

  “Oh...” His shoulders sagged, his smile fading.

  She almost felt sorry for him, noticing how the lines on his face were becoming more prominent. Fifty-five years old with nothing to show for it, he was all alone. She would likely face the same prospect someday. Like it or not, he was her only family, not counting her two stepbrothers who hadn’t contacted them in years.

  In a burst of sympathy, she blurted, “Maybe I can come decorate your apartment for Christmas.”

  “Want to come over now?”

  The hope in his voice was undeniable. She wondered when he’d last eaten a real meal. Maybe she could heat up a can of soup for him... What am I thinking? James is still in the closet!

  “Just a minute, Dad.” She hurried into her bedroom and retrieved a twenty-dollar bill from her stash in the back of her underwear drawer. She returned, holding it out in front of her. “Here you go. Buy yourself some groceries with this, okay? You can’t live on beer.”

  “Maybe not, but I can try.” A grin slid onto his face as he gingerly snatched the money, still keeping his distance from Fez. “Thanks, baby.” He paused, with his hand on the doorknob. “Let me know when you get rid of the fleas, and I’ll give you a full report on the business. Who knows, you might decide to invest a little money, yourself.”

  She shut the door behind him and locked the deadbolt, sagging against the wall. Suddenly, her body felt like all the bones had melted into mush.

  “Can I come out, now?” James’ muffled voice came from the closet.

  “Fudge! Yes, I’m sorry.”

  She jerked the door open. James emerged from the darkness, with two bras looped around his neck and one draped gracefully over the top of his head, looking a bit like large beige ears.

  “Hope you don’t mind... I borrowed your hat and scarf.”

  JAMES HELD HIS BREATH until Shara dissolved in a fit of giggles. He’d taken a chance teasing her with the underwear, but it had worked like a charm. She might’ve been angry or embarrassed that he’d touched her intimate garments, but making himself look silly had evened the playing field.

  “Hey. How about that hot chocolate, now?” he asked. “Hiding in a dark closet really worked up my appetite. While you were jabbering with your dad, I was doing closet-thenics.” He pretended to use one of the bras as an exercise elastic.

  “Very funny. Give me that!” She nabbed it from his hand, along with the other two. She laughed again, but her grin faded quickly. “I’m sorry about my dad.”

  “Shara, I wouldn’t have minded meeting him. My family’s not perfect, either. We all have those odd people in our family tree.”

  “Really? Who is it in your family?” She tossed the bras back into the closet, shutting the door.

  “Hmm...” James envisioned their last family get-together. “I guess, in our family, it’s me.”

  Her blinks sped up, and her lower lip quivered, as if she were barely holding it together. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and hold her until her frown went away... until she felt safe. But that wasn’t going to happen, because she was afraid of him, now. If regrets were dollars, he’d be rich. Maybe her father’s alcohol problem would somehow explain why she’d felt so betrayed when they slept together. He might never know the answer.

  Shara lifted Fez higher, giving him the kiss James craved. “If you’re the worst your family has, James, I don’t think you’ll ever understand me.”

  He swallowed hard, deciding to go for broke. “I’d like to try, Shara. If you’ll give me another chance, I think I can prove—”

  “I’m actually pretty tired. If you’ll take Fezzik, I’m going to hit the sack. I need to make up for a week without sleep.”

  His throat swelled shut. “A week?” The word squeaked out. “No sleep at all?”

  She passed Fezzik over and James stared at him. How could he look so sweet and innocent?

  “I’m sure you’ll get a little sleep, here and there.”

  “But I’ll need you to tell me what you’ve been doing. I thought we might order some takeout and you could give me instructions. Don’t we need to be consistent?”

&
nbsp; “No worries.” She picked up a large shopping bag and held it out. “Just slip the handles on your arm and you can get everything to your car in one trip. That’s how I’ve been getting him to Noelle’s house during the week.”

  “But the instructions—”

  “The instructions are written down on a piece of paper inside the bag. And in case you lose that, I texted them to you.”

  “We’re texting again?” It was the first piece of good news in the last two minutes.

  “Only about the dog. If you start trying to chat, I’ll block you again... Oops!” Her mouth dropped open and she slapped her hand over it, her eyes crinkling in the corners as she stifled a laugh. “Let me get a paper towel and clean that up.”

  “What?” James looked down to see a huge yellow puddle on and around his boot. How did so much pee come out of such a small being? He glared at Fezzik, who yawned and snuggled against him. “I think we should’ve named you Beelzebub.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Hey, James.” David stuck his head in the office door. “Noelle called and said to ask if you want to stay for dinner when you come to pick up Wizzer.”

  “Sounds great.” James yawned, blinking to focus on the computer screen in front of him. “And it doesn’t bother me, but if you forget and call Fezzik by some insulting name like Wizzer when Shara’s around, I’m not responsible for your death and dismemberment.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. For the most part, I find it’s safer to keep my mouth shut around women. That could be a good lesson for you to remember.”

  Another yawn escaped. “Right now, I’m having a hard time remembering anything. Fez must sleep all day at your house, because he stays awake all night long at mine.”

  “Yeah, I remember those puppy days. But he ought to be settling into a sleep routine by now.”

  “It turns out Shara let him sleep on a bed next to hers when she first brought him home. She only started crate-training him two days before I got him.”