Blindsided

by Karis Walsh

Des hesitated. “They’re good. They all seem to have the right attitude, so hopefully they’ll take well to the harness training.”

  “Hmm. Okay. So, what’s on your mind?”

  “How do you always know?”

  Lenae laughed. “You never pause before speaking your mind unless you have something challenging to say.”

  “I’ll have to watch out for that.” Des echoed her laugh. “But you’re right. I’ve been thinking about Gem. Maybe, if she does well in training, we should keep her at the center. She’d have some great puppies, I’ll bet.”

  Gem. Lenae easily called to mind the sensitive young Lab. She was one of the new animals, fresh out of the puppy-walking experience, ready to begin the serious work of being a guide dog. She’d make someone a loving partner, but with her good breeding and excellent temperament, she’d be an asset as a breeding dog as well. Lenae hated pulling a promising animal out of the program, but she had to keep an eye on long-term goals.

  “What are your reasons?” she asked.

  “She has nice conformation and she’s easy to work with. Most of the larger training centers are breeding their own puppies, and it would mean fewer dogs we’d need to purchase over the long run, even if we only breed her every other year or so.”

  “And?” Lenae prompted. She understood the logistics, but she wanted to hear the sentiment behind the suggestion.

  Des was silent for a moment. “We’ve bonded pretty strongly. I love all the dogs, of course, but she’s something special. I thought she could live with me, and I’d take care of the pups until they’re ready to go to new homes. I’d reimburse the center for her, and—”

  Lenae waved to stop his rushed sentences. “You’re right. She’d be a wonderful mother, and in the long run it’ll be good for the center. No money—this is a gift from me to both of you. Put her through the basic training first, just to make sure she’s well suited for the work. I wouldn’t want to breed her right away, but I was thinking of doing some guide dog demos for schools and community events. The two of you might be able to work up a little routine, and she could be a mascot of sorts for the center.”

  “I’m going to hug you now,” Des warned her.

  Lenae sighed with mock exasperation. “Go ahead, but make it quick.”

  Des gave her an awkward hug and then said he needed to check on the dogs. Lenae figured he was going out to tell Gem the news, so she stayed in the office and let him have his time alone in the kennels. Short-term sacrifices for long-term good.

  She picked up the list of repairs Des had made and moved through it more slowly this time. Her phone chimed while she was contemplating the item plant flowers near the office. She loved flowers for their beautiful aromas and velvety soft petals, but landscaping the property would be expensive and time-consuming to maintain. She tossed the list on the desk and answered her cell. “Hello.”

  “Lenae McIntyre?”

  She didn’t recognize the voice. “Yes.”

  “This is Howard Bradley, sportscaster for Channel 7.”

  Lenae was silent for a moment while she tried to recall whether the name meant anything to her. She came up blank.

  “You met my daughter yesterday. Cara Bradley.”

  Now that was a voice Lenae knew all too well. “She filmed a segment for her show here, yes. How can I help you?”

  “Not me, but her. The publicity from her little program will help your center, so I thought you might be willing to return the favor.”

  Of course. Lenae should have known that any media exposure would come with a price. What the hell did Cara want? Lenae wasn’t in the business anymore. Of course she could introduce Cara to the right people at Three-N, but she would rather have suggested it herself, not be coerced into doing it. She hated feeling used.

  “What does she want?”

  “My station is willing to let her have a regular weekly spot on the evening news. Last night at dinner, she told us about the puppy-walking program and it seems perfect for her. People love puppies. She could have one of the dogs and update the audience on her progress training it every—”

  “No.”

  “But you’d have your center on the news every week. Seen by thousands of people.”

  “No.” Lenae wasn’t going to budge. Give one of her puppies to a media flake who was only interested in her own advancement? If this had been Cara’s plan from the start, why had she seemed so bitter during the discussion about puppy walkers and their willingness to let go of the animals that had spent a year with them?

  “Maybe I should mention that my family’s foundation is planning to offer a sizable grant to a local nonprofit. Since we just started the program this year, we don’t have a pool of applicants, so I thought we’d offer the initial grant to your center. Based on the recommendation of Cara, of course.”

  Of course. “Mr. Bradley, I appreciate the offer, but—”

  “Did I forget to mention the amount of the grant?”

  He told her the sum, and Lenae found herself hesitating. It wasn’t as if Cara would be mean to the puppy, it was just that she’d be in the program for the wrong reasons. Besides, with that money she and Des could buy a lot of flowers and fence paint and dogs and kennels and…

  “Thank you, but no. We do serious training here, and puppy-walking spots are not for sale. Good-bye, Mr. Bradley.”

  Lenae disconnected before she could be further tempted. The money would have been helpful, but the price was far too high.

  Chapter Seven

  Cara parked her Camry in front of Lenae’s office. The center seemed to have grown dingier overnight, as if it had done its best to impress the cameras and now collapsed back to its original state. She got out of her car, noticing that her vehicle didn’t do much to spruce up the place. It looked as neglected as its surroundings.

  A chorus of barks greeted her as she walked past the gate leading to the backyard. She wanted to detour for a visit to the runs, but she needed to face Lenae sooner rather than later. The door wasn’t fully closed, and it swung open when she knocked on it. She stood in the entryway listening to the sound of a cranked-up radio playing oldies and the voice of someone singing along with Carl Carlton. Lenae. Off-key and loud, in a charming and total shift from the put-together role she had been playing yesterday. Cara looked down the long hallway, trying to locate the source of the music.

  “Hello? Lenae, are you here?” Baxter rounded the corner with a clatter of nails on hardwood and ran to her, waving his tail in greeting. Cara crouched to pet him. “Hey, Baxter. Where’s your mom?”

  He trotted back the way he had come, and Cara sashayed after him, humming along with the music, until they came to a room outfitted as an office. A large desk was covered with tidy piles of envelopes and invoices. A computer and printer sat on folding tables along the far wall. Spartan and functional, except for the floor with its large plaid dog bed and pile of chew toys and fuzzy animals. Lenae sat in a black leather office chair with a small gray machine in front of her and a Bose radio within reach.

  Cara’s humming had progressed to singing along at the top of her voice, and she found herself shouting into the silence as Lenae abruptly turned off the radio. “Oops, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt, but that’s one of my favorite songs.”

  “Mine, too,” Lenae said after a brief hesitation. Her hand hovered over the radio’s buttons, and Cara hoped she was about to turn the music on again so they could finish their duet. But Lenae pushed the Bose to one side of her desk and rested her fingers on the other machine. “I didn’t expect you today, Cara. I already told your father I wasn’t interested in your proposal.”

  Cara sighed. She had come here immediately after her dad had called with his brilliantly annoying plan, and she had hoped to have a chance to explain how her family meddled before Lenae spoke to him. Obviously, judging by the cranky note in Lenae’s voice, she was too late for that.

  “It wasn’t my idea. I came to apologize for him.”

  Lenae shook
her head, but she waved in the general area of the second office chair. “I need to finish converting this application while it’s fresh in my mind. If you don’t mind waiting, we can talk in a few minutes.”

  “Sure. I have time.” Cara didn’t go over to the chair but instead moved closer to Lenae’s desk, watching over her shoulder as she typed information on the machine in front of her. There were only nine different keys, and Lenae’s fingers flew with clearly practiced skill. A sheet of paper emerged, blank at first glance, but Cara could see the small shadows made by the raised dots.

  “Here. You can feel it if you want.” Lenae handed Cara the sheet of paper. Even though she had been silent, Lenae seemed to know exactly where she was standing. Cara ran her fingers over the bumps and tried to detect patterns while part of her wondered what else Lenae might invite her to feel if she showed an interest. The thought was intriguing, but she had to focus on her purpose for coming here.

  “Thank you,” she said, handing the paper back to Lenae. “It doesn’t seem possible that there are discernible words and sentences there when all I feel is a series of dots. Was it difficult to learn braille?”

  As soon as the words came out, Cara regretted them. She remembered how she had felt when Sheryl and George praised Toby after their walk to Starbucks, making her feel like an object to be guided along. She hoped she hadn’t insulted Lenae by acting surprised that she could learn. “That was a silly question, wasn’t it? I learned to read as a child, so why would it have been any different for you to learn a different format?”

  Lenae turned off her Brailler and felt for the stack of applications from hopeful candidates who wanted guide dogs. She put the newest form on top of the pile while she processed Cara’s comments. Frankness, respect. Two things Lenae didn’t encounter often. From Cara’s loud musical entrance this morning to her thoughtful and self-reflective words, Lenae was finding it more difficult to maintain the anger she had felt after Howard Bradley’s call. “I don’t mind the question. Braille is subtler than written letters, I think. For someone who isn’t accustomed to using their fingers to differentiate such tiny details, it can seem too challenging to learn, but it’s all I’ve known, so it was easy for me.” Lenae cleared her throat, caught unaware by the desire to show Cara just how sensitive her fingers could be. Definitely not the right direction for the conversation to go, so she changed to a less personal example. “Des has picked it up quickly since he came to work for me, although he’s studied several languages and might have an advantage there.”

  “I took French in school,” Cara said. “Maybe you could teach me a little?”

  Lenae didn’t answer right away. The thought of guiding Cara’s hand was tempting, but she had to keep focused on her center, not on the scent and sensation of Cara who was leaning against her desk. Too close. Lenae put distance between them with her words and the cold tone she heard in her own voice. “I’m pretty busy right now, training people who want to help with the center, not people who want to use my puppies to advance their careers.”

  Lenae felt Cara shift away from her. The energy Lenae had felt when Cara was close dissipated, and Lenae wished she hadn’t sounded so harsh. She had to protect her center—and herself—from self-serving people. But despite first impressions, and her father’s phone call, Lenae wasn’t entirely convinced Cara was one of the bad guys.

  “I didn’t know what he was planning to do,” Cara said. “Last night we had a family dinner, and I talked about the segment we’d filmed. That was all. As soon as he called this morning, I came over here to say I was sorry.”

  “To say you’re sorry?” Lenae repeated. She hadn’t expected Cara to say those words, in a voice tinged with something indefinable. Embarrassment? Anger? She’d expected sweet pleas and empty promises. “For what?”

  “I don’t want to do a weekly spot on the network news.” Cara stopped just short of petulance, but she sounded somehow childlike as she spoke. Not childish, but helpless. “I don’t want to be responsible for raising a puppy that will be doing such important work. I just want to do my public television show and teach a few classes. No one seems to understand that.”

  Lenae hesitated. Was this some sort of reverse-psychology ploy? Cara sounded truthful, but Lenae had no way of detecting honesty. She used to think she was a good judge of character, but she’d been proven wrong. She wanted to believe the happy-go-lucky Cara who had burst into her office was the real one, but Lenae had let personal desires cloud her common sense before.

  “It’s a huge commitment.” I’m sure you’d do fine. The animals love you. She wanted to reassure Cara for some inexplicable reason. But the truth was that Cara had no business puppy walking if she was only doing it for herself and for the attention she’d gain. Lenae had no choice but to agree with Cara’s alleged disinclination to volunteer. “There are weekly classes, and you’re expected to take the puppy almost everywhere you go since they need to be exposed to stores and public transportation. And although the center covers vet bills, there are the daily financial responsibilities as well. You can’t just take the puppy out when the cameras are on.”

  “Right. I know all that.” Cara’s throat felt tight, and she had trouble forcing the words out. She didn’t have the time or desire to take on a puppy, but Lenae didn’t need to imply that Cara was unable to do the necessary work. Cara had factored in all those considerations when she’d decided to reject the proposal. Didn’t that make her more responsible, not less? She didn’t have time to commit to puppy walking, didn’t want to acquiesce to her dad’s interference. But, perversely, she also didn’t want Lenae to think she wasn’t capable or trustworthy. The first two were reasonable excuses for not volunteering. The third had nothing to do with logic, but everything to do with her inexplicable reaction to Lenae. “I understand the requirements involved. But maybe I couldn’t love an animal for a year and then give it away.”

  Lenae shrugged. “Not everyone can. There are different kinds of love in the world, and it takes a certain kind to make a good puppy walker. It’s best for the center and for the animals if you acknowledge your feelings now instead of at the end of the program.”

  Cara tapped her fingers absently on a pile of papers in front of her. They slid across the table, and she picked them up to get them back in order. Some papers were in braille, some in print. Bills from the vet, a mortgage statement. Cara put the papers back on the desk in a neat stack. She had originally started her show as a way to give back to her community, to encourage volunteerism, to raise awareness of the people and organizations doing good work. Was she such a hypocrite that she wasn’t willing to do the work she asked others to do, week after week? She spent a few hours a month smiling at the camera, and then she went back to her own world, confident that she’d done her part to save the world. Maybe Lenae was right in her assessment. Maybe Cara was shallower than she cared to admit.

  “It’s not that I couldn’t do it. I just realize how hard it would be.”

  “Right. There are always lots of tears when the dogs are returned to the center. But there’s joy, as well. Hope.”

  Hope. Cara had been searching for it but had never seemed to find it. “Dad said he offered you a big grant.”

  Lenae felt her face tighten in a frown and she relaxed the muscles. The figure Howard Bradley had quoted kept dancing through her mind. “Yes, he did.”

  “And the money would be helpful for your center?”

  “Yes, but not if it means one of our puppies doesn’t receive the proper training. Money is always in short supply for a nonprofit, but I’m not in a hurry to make this place a success. I have a long-term plan, and while the grant money would help us move more quickly through the initial stages, I’m not going to sacrifice the quality of work we’re doing just to get ahead.”

  “Jeez, it’s not like I’m Cruella De Vil offering to puppy walk all the black-and-white dogs.”

  Lenae had to laugh at Cara’s injured tone. “I know you’re not a bad person. But I
also know that you’re not interested in any part of the puppy-walking experience. Except the fun, showy parts.”

  “Do you really think I’d be a detriment to your program? That I’d willingly neglect a puppy?”

  “Not at all.” Lenae wasn’t certain when the conversation had shifted from them agreeing Cara wasn’t a good match to Cara arguing for a chance to volunteer. “But you said you didn’t want to do this.” One thing was certain—Cara confused her.

  “I said I didn’t want to be pushed into something just because my father thinks it’s a good career move. And I didn’t want to volunteer just so I could be on television doing it. But did you ever think I might be interested in helping just because I like dogs and think it’d be fun to be a puppy walker?”

  “No,” Lenae said. “Because you just said—”

  “You want to volunteer as a puppy walker?” Des entered the room and caught only the end of the conversation. “Cool! You were great with Toby, and we really need a couple more volunteers, don’t we, Lenae? I’ll go pick one out for you.”

  “Um…” Cara wasn’t sure how she had managed to talk her way into this mess. She had been angry at the accusation that she wasn’t capable of handling the responsibility of a puppy, but she wanted to prove she was responsible through words, not necessarily through a year of her time. Chewed-up shoes, puppy classes, and forced news segments. No way.

  But there was a stack of bills on the desk. No matter how much Lenae might talk about her long-term, patient plan to establish the center, she would need money to get her through. Cara had seen the temptation in Lenae’s tired frown when they had talked about the grant. And with the property in such a run-down state, there’d be more than dog food to buy before all the repairs could be made. The grant, plus the regular network news spot, might be the difference between the center surviving its first few years, or having to close its doors permanently.

  The final argument for Cara came bursting through the door in a flurry of brown fur and white paws. She slid out of her chair and onto the floor as Pickwick hurled himself into her arms.