A New Leash on Love

by Debbie Burns

  Or if they’d at least slept in. He hadn’t remembered to close the curtains, and they were up with the sun at seven. He’d been awake till five. Finally determining that Megan wasn’t going to answer his texts, he’d fallen asleep on the couch after pacing a line through the living room carpet.

  Now it wasn’t the lack of sleep unnerving him, but being powerless. Megan was pregnant. She hadn’t confirmed it, but she had to be.

  With his child.

  Sophie, thank God, hadn’t brought it up again. The fiasco of last night’s party probably helped get it off her mind. He could tell from her downward glances whenever they discussed it that whatever had really happened there wasn’t something she was ready to share yet. And this morning he wasn’t in the space to push for more either.

  Added to that, Jillian was a mess. At least as much of a mess as she’d allow herself to be. Few people aside from him, her therapist, and possibly Sophie would have any clue about the storm brewing inside her—not of anger, but of fear.

  And possibly sorrow.

  She hadn’t voiced this to him, though she’d voiced more than enough after he’d gotten the kids to bed and answered her call. She’d never admit that any part of her would consider moving on in that way without Andrew. Still, Craig suspected the sorrow was there, flowing under her surface.

  He’d never considered moving on in that way either.

  But now, that reality was staring him in the face, and he suspected that, of the tumult of emotions churning inside him, a nervous, buzzing excitement and the quiet whisper of hope were part of them.

  If only Megan would’ve answered her phone while the kids were eating their subpar breakfast. It was the one chance he had to step away. Last night had been so unexpected, so bizarre, that he needed to know what she was thinking.

  She hadn’t told him the truth, and he understood. He forgave her for not having the courage.

  If the kids hadn’t come home with him, he’d have driven over to her place—regardless of whether she was asleep—banged on the door till she answered, and just held her.

  He needed it as much as he suspected she did. He knew his insides wouldn’t quiet until he held her long enough that her Meganness sank in and calmed him.

  Swiping his phone off the counter, he typed into it with shaky fingers. He made as many typos as progress, but finally got it right.

  With the kids but thinking of you. How are you holding up?

  He wouldn’t ask for more details till he saw her in person. He’d head to the shelter late this afternoon after he took the kids back to Jillian. He could keep it together that long at least.

  Chapter 24

  Tyler and Tess were in the front yard destroying a circle of grass with two sturdy sticks and the garden hose when Megan neared the house. Neither her mom nor Rick were anywhere in sight, but at eleven and nine, the kids didn’t need constant supervision any longer.

  However, Megan suspected her mom wouldn’t be happy about the Frisbee-wide hole they’d dug in the yard. Or the mud their hands and feet were caked in.

  Unseen, she slowed the car to a crawl and surveyed the house and surrounding acres. It was a ranch house, older but nicely kept and well situated on four rolling acres. Not only was there a nice pond out back, but also a white-fenced pasture and two plump miniature ponies that her mom had rescued from an older woman in town who’d had no idea how to care for them. Her mom hadn’t either, but they’d tamed down and become somewhat friendly over the two years they’d been here. And most importantly, they remained stubborn enough not to take abuse from Tyler and Tess, who good-heartedly dished out more than they should.

  Megan’s heart twisted as she looked over the place. It was quaint and homey and inviting. And though she’d lived there for more than three years before going to college, it had never felt like home. Her home—the one they sold a year and half after losing her dad and moving here—was seven and a half miles away.

  Often she’d head there first. The people who bought it were rumored to be recluses, and Megan always felt like the police would be called if she lingered out front too long. In winter, the house was fairly visible from the road. Rather than being situated like this one on a perfect little knoll, it was tucked at an angle into a wooded hillside.

  In spring, it would be harder to see, but she’d still be able to pick out her bedroom window and see if the tire swing was still hanging on the big oak out back.

  The detached garage where her dad had spent his free time restoring classic cars could be seen all year long. There was a rolling pang in Megan’s heart, reminding her of a rag being twisted to get all the water out, whenever she saw it.

  But today she was exhausted and didn’t have the energy to see it. She’d swing by on her way out tomorrow and, like always, contemplate pulling in the driveway long enough to run up and throw open the side garage door to see if she could catch wind of her father’s spirit.

  But on top of a sleepless night, a long drive, and a hell of a lot of stress, that energy wasn’t something she could summon right now.

  Tyler and Tess spotted her car, dropping the hose and running to the edge of the yard to greet her. She pulled in the driveway and killed the ignition.

  “Hey, guys. Hold it there,” she said, warding off mud-covered hugs. “Let’s get back to that hose and wash off those hands and arms before I see how much stronger your hugs have gotten.”

  They raced to the hose, waving her along. “Mom didn’t tell us you were coming,” Tess said, grinning and revealing two missing bottom teeth as she rinsed her hands. The mud fell off in easy sheets.

  “That’s because it’s a surprise. Just like those new teeth you lost.”

  “And the dog in your car.” Tyler jutted his chin toward Sledge, who was eyeing them from the backseat. “Did you get a dog?”

  “Right now he belongs to the shelter, but I brought him along for the ride. I thought he could use some time off leash to run around. Now that you’re clean, I’ll introduce you. But how about you turn the hose off before you flood the yard any more.”

  “Will he chase ducklings? The Easter Bunny brought us five.” Tessa’s forehead knotted in concern as they returned to the car.

  “You know, he might, so we’ll have to be careful. And you guys are going to have to treat him like you do all the dogs when you come to the shelter. And you can’t try to ride him like you do those little ponies. I know they’re about the same size.”

  Tyler and Tess rolled their eyes in unison. “We know.”

  Sledge hopped out and tentatively licked Tessa’s nose as she burrowed her fingers in his fur. Tyler was next—then, fifty feet away, the front door opened. Her mother, a twenty-year-older version of Megan, stood in the threshold with her painting shirt on, holding their excited corgi back with her bare foot.

  “You won’t believe this, but I had a dream last night that you came home. Call Rick if you don’t believe me. He’s fishing with the boys.” Her mom twisted her head, checking out the impressively sized shepherd in her driveway. “Is he friendly with other dogs?”

  “I think so, but we should introduce them on the leash. Believe it or not, Shorty’s got more spunk than Sledge.”

  As Megan suspected, Sledge’s tail disappeared between his back legs when Shorty approached, acting considerably taller than his twelve inches.

  Her mom hugged her tight, holding on longer than Megan wanted her to. “You sleeping well?” she asked when she pulled away. She kept her hand locked around Megan’s elbow.

  “Well enough.”

  “Not well enough, I’m thinking. Those dark circles are back. I’d ask what wind blew you here, but any wind that blows you here is good enough for me. Come on, let’s get you and that giant dog of yours inside.”

  Megan agreed and followed her mother in, half dragged by the kids. While Sledge went to town sniffing everything in sig
ht, trailed closely by the corgi, Megan let herself get absorbed in Tyler and Tess’s world of artwork and school projects and new toys. Thanks to their unending enthusiasm, she forgot her inner turmoil for the first time since the doorbell rang last night. In doing so, she relaxed and fatigue swept in.

  Fortunately, she was able to keep her attention locked on the kids for the next few hours and, as a result, held off the onslaught of questions she knew would eventually come from her mom.

  Except for one.

  “Why would someone who works your hours want to quit caffeine?”

  Megan kept her eyes glued to Tyler’s Lego tower as she cursed the casual comment that slipped out about quitting caffeine after her mom picked up on the yawns and brought her a cup of coffee.

  “It’s a headache trigger, or so I’ve heard.” It was a play on words, not a lie.

  “So you’re getting headaches? You haven’t said.”

  They talked twice a week, Wednesday nights and Sundays. Megan mostly kept to shelter news. She’d told her mother about Craig only as a donor and someone who’d joined the board. She hadn’t wanted her mom’s relationship advice because she knew it would probably ring true. Like warning her about the risks of having constant, mind-blowing, uncommitted sex with a man fresh out of divorce.

  She and Craig had done a lot more than that, of course. Hours upon hours of talking, back rubs, long walks, candlelight dinners, a bit of cooking together, and a few movies. But it had always been at Megan’s house, and eventually, it had always led to sex.

  And now she was five weeks pregnant.

  Her mom hovered over Megan, the mug of steaming coffee held out as she sat in the middle of the floor alongside Sledge, Shorty, Tyler, and Tess, and surrounded by Legos, as if Megan might change her mind and take it. “How often?” her mom added, referring to the headaches.

  “They’re nothing to call home about,” Megan replied. She searched for a change of topic and ended up spotting the clock on the mantel. “I didn’t know it was almost five. I need to call the shelter and check in. I dropped my phone in water earlier, and I’ve been incommunicado all day.”

  “Go for it.”

  Megan grabbed the home phone and headed down the hall toward the bedrooms as she dialed. She was glad when Kelsey picked up. She’d get more valuable information with less effort than from Patrick or Fidel, and the favor she needed to ask was one she’d only trust Kelsey with.

  The day there had been a good one, it turned out. No surrenders and three adoptions. One dog and two cats. A good day for a small shelter.

  “That’s great,” Megan said when Kelsey finished. “Really awesome. Hey, I was wondering if you could do me a favor before you leave.”

  “Sure,” Kelsey said, her voice muffled as she slammed a cabinet door, reminding Megan of their never-ending workload. “What?”

  “I was wondering if you’d email Craig Williams for me. He’s in our system contacts.”

  “Yeah. What for?”

  “We had some business to take care of. We were supposed to meet tomorrow. Can you email him that I’m here at my mom’s and I’m sorry to cancel, but I’ll call him when I get back? And mention my dead phone, will you? Just in case he tries calling.”

  “Sure. Got it.”

  There was a knot in her stomach and a little voice screaming this was a cowardly way of putting Craig off another day. She should use her mom’s phone and call him herself. Not send a spineless email through Kelsey. Sighing, Megan promised herself she’d do it later. Right now, she simply didn’t have the energy.

  * * *

  Disappointment settled in Craig’s stomach as he pulled in the shelter lot at twenty minutes after five and found it empty. He’d just come from Megan’s house after dropping the kids off with Jillian. He’d driven the most direct route here and hadn’t passed her.

  For the first time since they started seeing each other, her phone had been off all day and she hadn’t replied to his message or texts. He reassured himself that with their chaotic night, she must have forgotten to charge her phone. And now she was probably running a few errands before heading home.

  He scoped the grocery store on the way back to her house but didn’t see her car. Exhausted as he was, he pulled into her driveway, rolled down his windows, and closed his eyes. He dozed off easily, too easily.

  When he woke up, the sun was setting. Dew was lining the interior of his car and covering his clothes, and his neck was stiff and kinked. And Megan was nowhere to be seen. Groggy and with his frustration rising, Craig pulled out his phone. No texts or missed calls from her.

  He scanned his email and felt a flutter of hope when he glimpsed the shelter’s name embedded in an email address. It melted away when he saw the sender was Kelsey. Still, he clicked on it, discounting the dozen other emails in his inbox waiting for him.

  He read the message four times, his stomach sinking lower each time.

  Mr. Williams,

  Megan apologizes, but she has business to take care of and has gone to her mom’s in Springfield. She will not be able to meet with you tomorrow.

  Pawsitively wishing you the best.

  Kelsey

  Dropping his phone, Craig stumbled out of the car and sucked in a breath. Dear God, Megan, what the hell are you up to?

  * * *

  It was a bit like Chinese water torture, lying beside Tess till she fell asleep without doing so herself. Tess’s room used to be Megan’s before she left for college. Tess had moved into it from the one she’d shared with Tyler when she was four. The combined familiarity and foreignness was enough to keep Megan’s weighted eyelids open. The walls were a different color and the bedspread was new, but the furniture and view from under the covers were the same.

  Lying in this old bed, she didn’t feel so far from the troubled, resentful teen who’d lain awake late, learning to live without her father and watching her mother have such an easy time of it. Everything this stirred up kept her awake until Tess’s breathing was even and soft.

  Lifting her sister’s small hand carefully off her stomach, Megan rolled out and tiptoed across the room. She needed to call Craig and have the conversation she’d been avoiding. Whatever his reaction was, waiting it out any longer wasn’t going to change it. In fact, it might only make things worse.

  But she also needed to talk to her mom. As she tiptoed out of the room and down the hall, she saw her mom cuddled on the couch reading the latest copy of Good Housekeeping by soft lamplight. Hearing Megan approach, she set the magazine down and twisted to face her.

  Sorry, Craig. My mom wins by proximity.

  All day, she’d kept the reality of why she’d come pushed at bay. Now it flooded her. She was pregnant and, as of this moment, had absolutely no idea if she’d receive support—emotional or otherwise—from the father.

  Now nothing was keeping this heartfelt conversation at bay. The kids were asleep. Rick, who had the early shift at the plastic fabrication plant where he was foreman, had gone to bed with them.

  “So I turned on the kettle. Would you like some tea?” her mom asked.

  “That’d be great.” Megan collapsed onto the love seat, twisted sideways, and kicked up her feet. She tucked a throw pillow over her stomach, creating a barrier between the world and the life taking form in her belly.

  “Chamomile, I take it?”

  “Sounds great.”

  Her mom shuffled into the kitchen in fuzzy slippers and came back a few minutes later with a tray of steaming mugs of tea and a plate of shortbread cookies.

  Megan swiped a cookie and nibbled on the edges, gathering her courage.

  “So…” Her mom settled into the corner of the long couch, leaning against the arm and tucking her feet under her.

  So? Her mom wouldn’t be winning any awards as a conversation starter. But the truth was, quite a few so’s were boili
ng beneath Megan’s surface. The one that slipped out first wasn’t the one she expected.

  “Did you love my dad? Ever?”

  Great, Megan. Bravo. Don’t just throw it out there. Add an insult while you’re at it.

  Her mom’s eyebrows arched in surprise. She leaned forward for one of the mugs, held it to her lips, and blew gently. After taking a tentative sip, she shot Megan a direct look.

  “After all the stories you’ve heard over the years of the crazy things we did together, the wild ride of our teen years, of eloping and starting a life together, you still don’t know the answer to that question?”

  “Then why was it so easy for you to get over him?”

  The only hint of her mom’s discomfort was the sudden stiffness in her back and shoulders. “I’m glad you’re finally ready to clear the air. I’ve attempted to broach this with you a dozen times since you started college, but you’d never have it.”

  “Well, maybe I figured out not talking about it won’t make it go away.”

  “Then let’s talk. I’ve nothing to hide.” Her mom rested the mug on the arm of the sofa and rolled her neck, an obvious effort to keep in control. “You’re a woman now. And you were a teen when your father died.”

  “Thirteen, mom. I was thirteen.”

  Her mom held up a finger. “You asked, so let me talk. I know how old you were. But you were one of those kids who grew up before your time. And that started before your father died. Now, you asked if I loved him. The answer is yes. Absolutely. I know you’ve heard those stories of us being sixteen and head over heels for each other. And how after four years of dating, we rushed to the altar because I was pregnant. We didn’t keep that a secret from you.” She went quiet for a moment, then added, “The answer to your question is yes. I loved your dad a great deal.”

  Megan choked back a mouthful of too-hot tea and tried not to wince. Tried to keep her whirlpool of emotions in check.

  Her mom sat forward on the couch. “It’s your second question that’s troubling you though, isn’t it? Why I moved on so much faster than you wanted me to.”