A New Leash on Love

by Debbie Burns

  “You’re good on the fly. I’m impressed.”

  “Thank you, but you should know it’s my nature to downplay compliments.”

  “Noted.”

  “Are you calling to tell me not to bother with the grant? Because if you are, it’s too late. I made it to FedEx just before closing.”

  “How do you like your news, good or bad first?”

  Her heart sank. “Poop. He said no, didn’t he?”

  “So bad first. Well, that stuck-in-his-ways accountant you reached was right. They’re too big, and they’re publicly traded. They can’t risk favoritism. Even to multiple-year recipients like you.”

  Megan pressed her eyes shut. Dear God. All that for nothing. What would happen now?

  “But,” Craig said, his voice turning up, “the bad news ends there. I told you he was a dog lover, didn’t I? I spat out some of those facts you shared on the tour. Let him know what that money meant for your shelter. You may not have known this, but they make ten or fifteen donations a year in addition to the grants. John has sway there. Your grant last year was for a hundred and eleven thousand, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I gave him your cell number. He’s going to call tomorrow with a verbal commitment. He suspects it’ll be close to a hundred and fifty thousand, but he guaranteed at least one twenty-five.”

  A hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars. Guaranteed. “Are you kidding?”

  “It would be bad form to kid about something like this.”

  She put her hand over her mouth. John Benchley was going to call her. They weren’t going to be short on money. She’d messed up, but things were going to be okay.

  “Look at that. The woman with all the quips and comebacks is speechless. There is one caveat though.”

  Her mind was processing slowly. The animals were so quiet she could hear one of the cats purring. The sun was sinking below the horizon, and the room was taking on a golden glow as darkness filled in the corners. “What is it?” she managed.

  “The money won’t be disbursed until next January. Didn’t you say the grant funding started in October?”

  “It did. But we’ll be able to make it two or three months. I’ll work something out with our vendors if I have to.”

  “Then your crisis has been averted.”

  She let out a heavy breath. “I don’t know what to say. I mean I do, but I have a feeling if I say it, you’re going to dismiss it.”

  “That’s probably true. You’re good. I’m betting you were at the top of your class. How long have you been running the shelter?”

  She strained her ear to hear something on his end—music, a TV, someone else in the room, anything. There was just his voice, low and quiet and prickling her ear. “A little less than a year. Our director had a heart attack. There are just four of us on the payroll. The rest are volunteers. It’s a bit chaotic without him.”

  “Throw in an epic storm, and deadlines get lost. It’s understandable.”

  “Not to the animals we take in, which is why I owe you immensely.”

  “What was that?” he asked, his tone playful. “You say you’re taking me to lunch next week? Thursday? Hold on, let me check my schedule. I’ll see if I can make it work.”

  Megan laughed.

  “You’re in luck,” he said as he came back on. “Can you come to Clayton? Noon works for Wes.”

  Megan blinked. “Wes is coming?”

  “Yes. I just got off the phone with him before I called. And sorry, that date you were hoping to ask me on will have to be postponed. It’s business before pleasure. Or, as is often the case with me, it’s just business.”

  She was too stunned by the mention of Wes to fully process the date comment. “You talked to Wes? How do you even know about him?”

  “I couldn’t recommend the High Grove Animal Shelter to the John Benchley without doing a little research first. So pick your favorite Clayton restaurant. I’ll meet you two there. Wes said to leave it up to you.”

  Megan shook her head. She had no idea what to say. What did it mean, him asking her and Wes to lunch?

  “Is this really twice in one conversation that you’re speechless?”

  “No, just speech delayed.”

  A soft chuckle tickled her ear. “You’re a pleasure, Megan.”

  She ran her hand down the length of Chance’s tail. She kept imagining Craig’s mouth up against his cell phone. He had good lips. Really good lips. And his lips were definitely not what she should be thinking about. She wanted to ask what this was all about, but if he wanted her to know beforehand, he’d tell her.

  “In the meantime it seems you have a puppy or two to save.”

  “That we do.” She thanked him again and hung up, thinking this was hands-down the most unusual Valentine’s Day she’d ever spent.

  * * *

  The moss-topped pavilion on the side of the trail was a great stopping place, Megan decided. This was a first-time walk for both Sophie and Sledge, and at three and a half miles, it was a decent length. Plus, it would allow Patrick a chance to catch up. He’d paired up with Minnie, an older volunteer who walked at a shadow of Patrick’s normal speedy pace. The two other women on the walk were in their thirties and now far ahead, out of sight. They came almost every week and chose active dogs. They called it their weekly power walk with a purpose.

  “What do you say we take a break to practice some training behaviors with Sledge and Dolly?” Megan asked. “Practicing their training in a busy park with loads of distractions is often challenging, but it’s also good for them.”

  “Sure.” Sophie wiped a bead of sweat from her brow, even though it was only in the high forties. They’d gone about halfway, and from her smiles and laughter, it looked like she was enjoying it. Dolly, the middle-aged Boston terrier and Lab mix Sophie had chosen to walk, pulled her toward a trash can alongside the pavilion. She giggled as Dolly sniffed the sides of it with sudden vigor.

  Sledge glanced back at Megan and wagged his tail. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d met a dog like him, one who was so willing to be in sync with his owner, if that’s what he thought she was. He knew to ask permission for certain things, and he did it through eye connection. She gave him a bit of praise and loosened his leash. With a wag of his tail, he leaped toward the can and began sniffing alongside Dolly.

  He trusted Megan now, and it had been easy to gain his trust, which was promising for his adoption. He still didn’t trust strangers that easily, especially men. During the first half mile of the walk, he’d been so hesitant about walkers approaching from the opposite direction that she’d almost second-guessed her decision that he was ready to come along today. After a handful of people passed by uneventfully, he relaxed. Once or twice, he’d even gotten so lost in the scent-filled path that he’d forgotten his well-instilled manners and tugged her off it for a better sniff of whatever drew his attention.

  “I heard dogs have a really good sense of smell,” Sophie said. “Wouldn’t it be cool if Dolly was smelling a dog she knew before she came to the shelter?”

  Dolly let out a muffled yip as she sniffed. She was a mellow, good-natured canine who walked with a mild limp.

  The fact that Sophie asked to take a dog who’d been there awhile instead of choosing one of the more personable dogs who’d likely have a shorter shelter stay made Megan admire her even more. She was a good kid. A really good kid.

  “That would be cool,” Megan agreed. “One time we adopted out a dog, and his new owners ended up tracing back his ID implant and finding out his littermates were just down the street. And what you’ve heard is true. Dogs have an amazing sense of smell. There’s research to suggest a dog’s sense of smell is anywhere between a thousand to a million times stronger than ours. Which is a big reason why more and more dogs are being brought into different fie
lds of work.”

  “I know they can find bombs, but is it true they can smell cancer?”

  She nodded. “They can be trained to. Last year we had an Irish spaniel who was adopted by an oncologist. He’s in a training program with her now. The goal is to teach dogs to detect diseases even before tests can.”

  “That’s so cool. When I grow up, I want to work with dogs.”

  Megan smiled. “Really? Well, there are lots of opportunities out there. And you’re great with dogs.”

  “I’m not sure what my parents will think. Before my mom stayed home, they both worked in marketing. My dad even started his own company. It’s cool to see some of the stuff his team comes up with, but I don’t think I could be happy if I wasn’t working with animals.”

  “I don’t know your parents that well, but most of the time grown-ups come to realize their kids will be happier if they follow their hearts in terms of a career, even if they have different opinions on the subject.”

  Sophie gnawed her lip. She had full, round cheeks but her dad’s nose and eye shape. The darker hair and eye color must have come from her mother. “It’s just, after what happened to my brother, if I think about doing something that’ll disappoint them, it makes me want to throw up.”

  Megan blinked back her surprise. Craig had told her he had a son, but he hadn’t said anything about him that hinted at the heaviness suddenly lining Sophie’s face. She also wasn’t sure if Sophie knew she and Craig had gone for coffee and talked at length like they had. Megan needed to watch what she said.

  As it was, Sophie didn’t give her time to reply. “I don’t mean Reese. He was the one in the car when my dad dropped me off.”

  “I didn’t know you had another brother.”

  Sophie ran her hand down the length of Sledge’s tail. Her eyes grew big in the same way they’d done at the shelter when she was trying to keep from crying. “I knew he didn’t tell you. He never tells anyone.”

  Didn’t tell her what? She thought of Craig in the coffee shop, pausing before answering how many children he had. She felt the muscles in her throat close up. Somehow she knew before Sophie confirmed it.

  “I had another brother. His name was Andrew. He died three years ago. He was Reese’s identical twin.”

  Megan hugged Sophie tight before she had the time to worry about whether she’d want her to. “I’m so sorry.”

  Sophie hugged her back. When they pulled apart, she worked her lower lip back and forth under her top teeth and swiped away a single tear. “He had congenital heart disease. He was born with it.”

  Things happen that we don’t plan for. Craig had said that when they were arguing out in the cold. Megan pressed her eyes shut, remembering the drops of rain running down his neck. She’d been so frustrated at the time. But she’d seen something in him as he said those words, a crater of vulnerability he hid from the world. She’d ignored it and argued with him some more. Now she knew this was it. This was what she’d glimpsed. The scar that’s left when you lose one of the people closest to you in the world.

  She shifted Sledge’s leash from hand to hand as a gust of wind pressed against them. She shivered. It wasn’t just Sophie she wanted to hug. She didn’t think she’d be able to see Craig again without wanting to wrap her arms around him and not let go. No wonder he hid behind sarcasm. “The world isn’t always a fair place. I wish it was, but it isn’t.”

  “He wasn’t supposed to die.” Sophie headed into the pavilion and sank onto the bench, pulling her knees in to her chest. Dolly wandered underneath. Megan noticed her leash getting tangled up but ignored that for the moment. Sophie was carrying around an enormously heavy weight. She wanted to talk, and Megan didn’t want to interrupt her for anything. “He was in school and sports, and it was being managed with medicine and stuff by a bunch of doctors. But he got pneumonia and…”

  Seeing that Sophie was collecting herself, Megan stayed silent.

  Eventually, Sophie shrugged and let out a long breath. “It happened really fast. Nobody was ready for it.”

  “I don’t think you can ever be ready for something like that.”

  “That’s why Reese is the way he is. He always used to be happy and a goof, and he could never sit still. Then Andrew died, and he just…I don’t know…changed.”

  Megan shook her head. Even in the full winter sun, she felt raw and cold and exposed in a way that only the comfort of a steaming-hot bath could cure. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  “My therapist says there’s a difference between being sad and being sorry. She says we can want things not to have happened without feeling guilty because they did.”

  “That’s very true.” Megan sank beside Sophie. Under the shade of the pavilion, it was considerably colder. She zipped her cozy fleece. Sledge plopped down onto the concrete, content to relax while Dolly sniffed and wound her leash tighter around the legs of the bench.

  “It’s not the same thing as losing a brother, but when I was a kid, I lost someone very important to me too.”

  “Who?”

  “My dad.” Megan’s throat tightened reflexively as his face flashed into her mind. She told herself she wasn’t changing the subject away from him because she couldn’t handle talking about him even after all these years. “So I’ve got an idea of how incredibly hard it is, but what you said earlier…about wanting to throw up when you thought you might be about to disappoint your parents?”

  “Yeah?” Sophie dropped the leash so Dolly could extract herself. Once she did, Dolly plopped down a few feet from Sledge and panted.

  “Is this something you’ve told your therapist? Because I have a feeling she or he would want to hear it.”

  “She,” Sophie said, shrugging. “Yeah, I guess. All things in time, she says.”

  “Well, just keep in mind, it’s never easy to disappoint your parents. But especially after what your parents have been through, what you’ve all been through, I’m sure they want you to be able to be yourself. I don’t know your mom, but I can see that in your dad. He definitely understands how much you love dogs. And they’re both letting you volunteer. And adopt another dog someday. So just take it a step at a time and know they love you.”

  Sophie nodded. “Thanks. I’ll try. I’m sorry about your dad. What happened?”

  It was the question that always came up. The same one she always wanted to avoid. Commotion on the path twenty feet away saved her from having to go there. It was Patrick and Minnie and their dogs.

  “Trouble?” he asked, eyeing them quizzically. He looked coordinated in his cargo pants—the more pockets for him, the better—his hiking boots, and his army surplus jacket.

  Megan stood up and headed out to meet them. Sledge studied Patrick a second, then relaxed, his tail dropping. Dolly gave a yip at the sight of the short-legged corgi paired with Minnie. They’d become friends in the play yard.

  “No. We thought we’d hang here a few minutes and practice some training behaviors that we’d worked on back at the shelter before leaving.”

  “Want us to stay with you?” Patrick asked, pulling out his phone, probably to confirm a travel distance that he already knew instinctually. “Minnie and I should take another forty-five minutes to finish up.”

  “No, go ahead. We’re good, aren’t we, Soph?”

  Sophie, who was letting Dolly and the corgi sniff each other, agreed.

  After confirming that Minnie was doing fine, Megan waved them off. Sophie watched them leave with a quizzical look in her eye.

  Megan pulled a handful of treats from her jacket and offered them Sophie’s way. “Dog treats for your thoughts?” she asked playfully. “Since pennies aren’t that exciting anymore.”

  Dolly and Sledge sat at attention when they got whiffs of the peanut-butter-flavored treats.

  Sophie giggled, pointing out how much younger the dogs looked with their ears pricked fo
rward. “I was just wondering about Patrick,” she asked afterward.

  Megan prepared for her to ask why he was so unusual. After a short time with him, most people picked up on his uniqueness, though not many realized he had Asperger’s until they really got to know him.

  “Are you two dating?”

  “Dating?” Megan swallowed back her surprise. “No, we’re not dating. Don’t get me wrong. I love Patrick, just more like a brother. I think he’d drive me up a wall if we dated. He’s much more particular about things than I ever could be, down to the number of slices of salami on his sandwich and the precise order in which he goes about his day. He’s great though,” she added, “especially with the animals.”

  Sophie nodded and shifted the treats she’d taken into the palm of her left hand. Holding one up, she told Dolly to sit, then giggled as she realized both dogs were already sitting at attention. “I think they’ve mastered the sit part already.” She gave them several treats and added, “I think Patrick’s kind of cute, but I see what you mean about the way he acts. So are you dating anybody?”

  Megan wondered about the interest in her personal life, but attributed it to a curious teenage girl. “Most days I feel married to the shelter, but no, I’m single.”

  Sophie nodded and instructed Dolly in too many words to lie down. Sledge sank to the ground immediately, but Dolly just wagged her tail. “I guess whoever you date would have to like animals, right?”

  “Like animals, yes, but you know what they say—opposites attract. The guy I almost married a while back liked dogs, but he had an entirely different career path. He was a chef.”

  Sophie’s eyebrows rose considerably. “But you’re not together anymore?”

  “No,” Megan said, working not to read into the conversation. “We’re not. Not for a while now.”

  Sophie turned back toward the dogs. She sank into a squat and let Dolly lick her empty palm. “My parents are divorced. I used to want them to get back together, but not anymore. My therapist says people always keep changing, and I kind of think they grew into different people.”