by Debbie Burns
She made a face. “Am I supposed to answer truthfully?”
He laughed and ran his hand down the back of her hair, pulling her into a second hug. “If I find this news better than any game of chess, I know you’re going to too.”
McTavish had made his way over to her. He nudged her dangling hand with a practiced roll so that it landed squarely atop his head, leaving her little choice but to scratch.
She sank to her knees and gave him a two-handed rubdown behind the ears. He panted happily, and she tried not to breathe in old-dog breath. “What’s your daddy so happy about, McTavish? Huh, boy?”
“Who’s here today? It’s only fair to tell you all at once.”
“Kelsey and Fidel. They’re in back. It’s Patrick’s day off.”
“Shame he’s not here. Maybe I’ll drive by his place on the way home. Stay put. I’ll get Kelsey and Fidel.”
Megan shook her head as he walked away, wondering what Wes would find better than chess. She was running her hand soothingly down McTavish’s arthritic leg when Craig popped into mind. Not that he hadn’t popped into her mind at all sorts of times lately, but this was different. It was ridiculous to think there was any connection, but she had the oddest feeling there might be. She realized this was her opportunity to ask Wes what their phone call had been about. Their upcoming secretive lunch date was all she’d been thinking about.
Fidel was the first to step through the kennel doors, followed by Wes, then Kelsey. “¿Qué pasa, old man?” Fidel asked, grinning. “You have a look that says Christmas has come early.”
Megan stood up, and McTavish shuffled over to the cat kennels, his ears pricked forward in a way that made the years seemingly fall away from him.
“As a matter of fact, it has.” Wes squeezed Fidel on the shoulder as they joined her. “The truth is, my friends, we’re getting an unexpected donation.” He splayed his fingers in front of his chest and tapped his fingertips together. “A big one. In fact, it’s more than half our annual budget.”
A shock wave rocketed through Megan’s system. Their annual budget was just under eight hundred thousand dollars. Beside her, Kelsey jumped up and down, then cartwheeled across the center of the room, screaming with joy. Megan’s knees went weak. It felt as if she’d been struggling to tread water forever and suddenly her feet had touched ground.
“You aren’t talking about Maclind’s verbal pledge?” John Benchley’s impending donation had been confirmed a week ago, but it was for one hundred and thirty-eight thousand.
Wes shook his head and gave her a wink.
She had a flash of what it could feel like to pull up QuickBooks and not have to hold her breath in hopes that they wouldn’t be in the red. Her eyes watered, and her mouth went dry. Though they were just feet away, Fidel and Wes faded out of focus.
Craig Williams. There was no reason in the world to continue with this assumption, but she did anyway. She was standing in the rain again, and he was prying open her door. She was in a cozy coffee shop and he was taking her coat, his fingers accidentally brushing against her skin and sending a shock wave of yearning through her. He was placing a call that might literally have saved animals’ lives and pretending it was nothing.
Unlikely as the correlation seemed, it was him. It had to be. Craig had told her he owned his own company, and from the look of his clothes, connections, and car, it was doing exceedingly well. But did he have access to that much overflow money? And even if he did, would he really give it to the shelter?
Her knees grew too weak to hold her. Fidel and Wes were coming out of a bear hug when she pushed a pile of red long-sleeved tees aside and sank onto a rickety gift shop table.
Fidel crossed himself, smiling wide enough to show every tooth in his mouth. “How did you manage that, old man?”
Wes jutted his thumb in Megan’s direction. “I didn’t. Megan did.”
With three sets of eyes staring her down, Megan shook her head. “I didn’t… I didn’t do anything.”
“Intentionally,” Wes said, smirking.
“Oh my God.” Kelsey lunged forward and grabbed Megan’s shoulders. “It’s the rich hottie, isn’t it? I knew he was into you. I could see it the other day when he was here. How could you sit there all morning and act like you didn’t know?”
Megan shook her head, shocked, amazed, not quite knowing how she felt. Could Craig have done this for her? Impossible. Wasn’t it? “Kels, I swear, until a second ago, I didn’t know anything either.”
Fidel held up a hand. “¿Qué es? What did I miss?”
“Have you met Craig Williams, Fidel? He was the one who came back with his daughter to reclaim her puppy, only to find the dog had been adopted already.” Wes paused for a nod from Fidel, then continued. “Turns out, Megan turned this unhappy event into a happy one. She gave them a tour and brought his daughter into the volunteer program. The girl’s head over heels for this place. And lucky for us, Williams’s company needs to unload some cash before the end of the quarter. When you put it all together, it’s what they call serendipity.”
“How much?” Fidel yanked off his ball cap and worked it in a circle with his fingers.
“Four hundred and twenty-three thousand, give or take a thousand or so. The numbers won’t be finalized until the end of the week. But I want you all to know,” he continued, “that when this money comes through, there will finally be the raises you’ve been hoping for. We’re going to reenergize our mostly defunct board of directors. I’m officially declaring retirement and taking a seat on it. Mr. Williams, our generous benefactor, will become president.”
“Wait. What? He’s joining the board?” Megan felt like the last of the blood was draining from her cheeks.
Wes squeezed her arm. “I wouldn’t be surprised if someone of his professional stature loses interest quickly. But hopefully not before he makes a difference.” He gave a modest shrug. “Who knows? Before this is over, there’s talk of a decent benefits package.”
Fidel patted his chest and whistled. “You’d better slow down, old man. I’m having chest pain.”
“What if he changes his mind?” It was out there before she could pull it back. Everyone was so happy. Why couldn’t that be her only emotion too? She could feel the relief, but she was also terrified. And confused. Very, very confused.
“He won’t, Megan. He’d still like the three of us to meet for lunch on Thursday to go over the details.”
She nodded, but her mind was far away. It was as if she was standing in the rain with him again. Only instead of arguing, she was touching him this time, running one finger down his cheek, and her skin was burning from the feel of him. Things happen that we don’t plan for.
Shaking it off, she refocused on Wes. Seeing his glee, she couldn’t help but smile.
He glanced at his watch. “I’d stay, but I have an appointment with my cardiologist, and I want to swing by Patrick’s place. But needless to say, I’m feeling lucky today. When I’m finished, I’m heading home to contemplate my next move with the match I have going with that haughty librarian over in England. This very well may be checkmate.”
* * *
Sinking to the floor in a wide circle of moms, one dad, and a dozen toddlers, Megan crossed her legs and did her best to ignore the stickiness of the gym mat pressing into the backs of her legs. Beside her, Ashley adjusted Jake in her lap, took his chubby hands in hers, and started clapping them together. He was getting antsy, waiting for the music to begin and the teacher to start the toddler gym class.
Megan managed to carve out a couple of hours every other week to attend Jake’s exercise class and join Ashley and him for a quick, early lunch—no matter how busy things were at the shelter.
Arching his back, Jake wiggled out and dove for Megan’s lap. Her heart turned to mush at the big, drooly smile he gave her. He dragged his moist hand across her cheek and slipped one fi
nger into her mouth and under her tongue, then broke out into a hearty giggle.
“You love your Auntie Megan, don’t you, Jakers?” Ashley said, tugging on the back of his shirt.
“Auntie Megan loves him right back,” she said, brushing aside his fine baby locks to press a kiss on his forehead. “Lots and lots and lots and lots.”
Ashley shoved out her lower lip. “Have I told you lately how much I wish we were going through this together?”
Wrinkling her forehead in mock concentration, Megan said, “Um, let’s see. A few hundred times maybe.”
“It’s just, you know—” A guilty look passed across Ashley’s face.
“I do,” Megan finished. “I know.”
They’d been best friends since third grade. Ashley moved that year to West Plains, the small Missouri town on the outskirts of Springfield where Megan was born. They hung out with different kids until the day henceforth referred to as the Day That Changed Everything, or the day they’d become indisputable best friends.
Ashley was hanging out with two girls Megan couldn’t stand. Snobby, spoiled girls who thought they were the best in school. One day at recess they turned on Ashley, telling the other kids she was crushing on the most awkward, backward boy in their class—the one who couldn’t keep his finger out of his nose to save himself. All because she’d spoken out in his defense when the girls were teasing him.
She’d been crying behind the gym set when Megan found her and took her hand. “Don’t let them see you cry,” she’d said. “They’ll never let go of it. Cartwheels are way better. How many can you do?”
Ashley had looked at her like she was crazy, but then started to laugh. “Three without stopping.”
“Let’s see if you can get it to four.”
They’d been inseparable ever since, crossing the boundaries into a near-sisterhood. At one time, there’d even been a list of all the first things they experienced together. Ten consecutive cartwheels. Successful backsprings. First kisses—the same night—at a middle school dance. C’s on a test they’d forgotten to study for when Ashley’s first boyfriend broke up with her. First jobs at a roadside ice-cream stand. First time having sex, the very same month. Moving away from home. Dorm rooms at Webster University. It went on and on. Of course, Megan couldn’t imagine having survived her dad’s death without Ashley’s help.
Marriage and babies had been placed preemptively on that list the night they kissed Don Halverson playing spin the bottle. As had a bunch of other things. Some had come to fruition. Others hadn’t.
The list was still around somewhere, tucked in a drawer in Ashley’s house. Maybe they weren’t adding to it anymore, but it didn’t change that we’re-in-it-together feeling they shared.
Beside her, Ashley nudged Megan’s elbow as the instructor sank to the floor, picked up a tambourine, and started singing. She whispered, “I’ll love your babies whenever you have them, you know. Even if you’re fifty.”
Megan waved her off. “Fifty? Who are you kidding? I’m waiting till sixty now.”
Drawn by the tune, Jake waddled across the mat and sank in front of the instructor, pumping his fists to the rhythm along with a dozen other toddlers.
Ashley clapped and pretended to sing along. “So, what happened last night after we talked? Did he call?”
Megan looked away reflexively. It was safer to keep her eyes locked on Jake if they were going to talk about Craig in person rather than over the phone.
“Nope.”
They’d hung up last night with Ashley absolutely sure Craig had donated the money to get in Megan’s pants, and Megan insisting her friend was crazy. No one in their right mind would do that. Would they?
“Hmm.”
It was quiet enough but caught Megan’s attention all the same. “Hmm what?”
Ashley dropped her voice as the other parents sang along with the instructor. “Just thinking. I might’ve been wrong about the pants thing.”
“What do you mean?”
“Wouldn’t he have at least called you? Maybe you’re right. Maybe he just did it for his daughter.”
The instructor motioned everyone to their feet and started them running in a circle, waving at the babies to join them. Jake squealed and ran to Megan. He giggled continuously and held her hand as they ran around, switching directions every few circles.
It was ridiculous to feel disappointed that Craig hadn’t called her. They’d had a few moments. Really, really good moments. At least in her mind. He didn’t owe her an explanation for making a donation.
She supported Jake to keep him from face-planting on the mat as he ran on his toes and reminded herself that she hadn’t picked up the phone to call Craig either. It wasn’t that she hadn’t wanted to. The whole thing was just too big to wrap her head around.
“So you’re saying to show up at lunch tomorrow and be all business?” Megan said over her shoulder.
“I’m saying to act natural and do your best to read him. Then drive straight to my house, and we’ll discuss.”
“What is it you think we’re going to be discussing?”
Ashley gave her a malicious grin as they switched directions. “It depends on how he acts. Wedding plans or shelter plans. I’m hoping for the first. Obviously.”
“You’re funny, Ash. Besides, knowing you, I could tell you something that’d change your mind about him.”
“What do you mean? Have you been holding out on me?”
The music changed, and everyone was instructed to gallop around the circle. When in Rome, Megan thought, giving Jake a little neigh. “Not purposely.” Her words were broken by her body’s rhythm. “You and I had bigger things to discuss last night. But Sophie’s mom dropped her at the shelter yesterday after school. Sophie comes out as often as someone will bring her. It’s cute. She’s even fostering those two beagle puppies tonight since they’re doing so well. I’m dropping them off at her house on my way home. But anyway, yesterday I went with her on a walk since she can’t take dogs out by herself.”
“And?”
“And she mentioned offhandedly that she wished her parents had had another kid after her brother died, but her dad had already had a vasectomy.”
The song ended a second before she finished, and vasectomy rang out across the room. Megan and Ashley sank back to their invisible circle on the floor amid more than a few curious glances.
“Well, that puts a damper on things,” Ashley said when the other parents’ attention turned back to the instructor. “Megs, I can see it on your face. You’re crushing on him. Big time. And I’m not saying this for me, but whoever you end up with has got to be baby-crazy. You love babies too much to be a good match with anyone who isn’t.”
The fact that a dozen tiny arguments rose in Megan’s throat—from adoption to vasectomy reversals to throwing thought to the wind and worrying about it later—showed how right her friend was.
Megan was seriously crushing on Craig Williams, and the odds were the only thing it would lead to would be a broken heart.
* * *
Megan let the car idle in the circular driveway as she double-checked the address she had with the one on the brass plate by the door. It had been obvious from the get-go that Craig had money. From his car, his suits, even the way he carried himself. Yet none of those things had prepared her for this. His home. His used-to-be home anyway.
It was immense. It stood at the top of a circular driveway in the heart of Ladue—a fusion of stone, brick, gables, and pillars. At the base of the drive, a Realtor’s sign announced the house as Coming soon.
Unable to move, Megan gawked at the house that was really a mansion. Ashley was right. Someone with this much money wouldn’t make a big donation in hopes of getting in her pants.
The truth was that if he ever looked twice at her pants, it would probably be to confirm they weren’t the right bran
d.
All that flirting that wasn’t flirting that made her skin crackle with anticipation was probably something he did with everyone. Or she’d misread it. Most likely, she’d misread it.
In the backseat of her car, one of the puppies yawned and started to stir. Thank goodness, they were still mostly kept in their crate. She wouldn’t want to be responsible for one of them pooping on one of these floors just as the house was going up for sale.
She was debating pulling out her phone to snap a picture for Ashley when the front door flew open and Sophie stepped out, smiling a big, awkward smile.
Killing the ignition, Megan climbed out of the car and reached into the back for the traveling crate and the bag of supplies she’d brought for Sophie.
“Thanks so much for coming,” Sophie called as she jogged down to meet her.
“The puppies will be thanking you for having someone to play with tonight. And by the way, they’re just waking up, so we should give them a few minutes on your beautiful lawn.”
Sophie squatted to open the crate door after Megan set it down. “I wonder if they’ll be able to smell where Hershey used to pee.”
“I suspect some of those smells are still around. To a dog’s nose, at least.”
“Look at that,” Sophie said before praising the small one who immediately squatted to pee after being placed on the ground. The larger beagle trotted in a circle, his nose to the ground. After a bit of sniffing, he lifted his head to howl.
Megan and Sophie laughed as he broke into a lopsided run, veering in odd figure eights around the lawn.
“Have you guys come up with names?” Sophie asked.
“Actually, we have. We’re sending out a press release Friday, but you can be the first to know. Patrick came up with them. He’s good at coming up with practical but suitable names. Since he recovered so quickly, Mister Running Legs here will be named Turbo. We’re going to call his brother Tyson since he had to fight so much harder to survive those first several days after he came to us. What do you think?”