by Dale Mayer
As they got to the sandbox, Sari made her way to the center, tripped, and landed on her back in the middle of a soft sand pile. She looked up at her mother, her face scrunched up as if she would cry, but then Shambhala bumped her gently with her head on her shoulder. Immediately the storm clouds cleared, and sunshine came through as Sari reached up and threw her arms around Shambhala’s head.
Daniela murmured, “It’s incredible just how good Shambhala is with her.”
“I know,” he said. “It’s pretty intriguing.”
When Sari was settled and busily digging in the sand, Weston brought Shambhala closer to him. Turning to look at Daniela, he said, “I’ll just walk around the park a little with the dog. I want to go over some commands to see how she does.”
Daniela nodded, and he headed a little distance away from them.
Shambhala let him know she was disturbed at leaving the little girl. She kept turning to look behind them to make sure Sari was okay.
“It’s okay, Shambhala. She’s fine.”
Shambhala gave him a hard look, and he had to acknowledge an awful lot of guard dog remained in her. Setting to work, he ascertained she remembered her basic training. Then he worked on several others he had looked up after finding out he was coming after a War Dog. A few more he needed to work on to see if she would listen as well. He needed her off-leash and in a fenced area for that. She had all the regular commands down pat, and he was really proud of her for that.
When they walked back with her heeling properly and at his side, her ears picked up and more energy was in her step as they headed to the sandbox, where Daniela and Sari were waiting for them. He smiled, reached down and scratched Shambhala between the ears.
“You really do love that little girl, don’t you?” Her tail wagged faster and faster the closer they got, and, as soon as they made it to the sandbox, she hopped in and nudged the little girl.
“Doggy, doggy,” Sari cried out and wrapped her arms around the dog.
“You know something?” he said to Daniela. “We may have a harder time separating them than we’re thinking.”
“I can tell,” she said. “I was just thinking that when you came back toward us. The dog was obviously happy to be coming this way.”
He nodded. “Let’s head home.”
She smiled. “That sounds great. But how will you get Sari to do that?”
“Easy,” he said. “Sari, come on. Time to go back to the house.”
She looked up at him and shook her head. “No.”
He looked at her, surprised, then looked at her mother, who stood there with her arms crossed over her chest and a big grin on her face. “I guess you don’t have to, but Shambhala and I are going home.” He called Shambhala to his side. Reluctant but obedient, she complied. Then he turned back to look at Sari. “We’re leaving now and going back to the house.”
As he and Shambhala turned and walked away, Sari started crying and screaming.
He stopped and looked back at her. “So does that mean you’re ready to listen and to come home with us?”
She nodded and reached up her hands. Daniela picked Sari up and caught up with Weston and Shambhala.
Weston turned to the little girl. “I’m so glad you came with us. Do you want to ride on my shoulders?”
Immediately the clouds disappeared, and the sun shone once more.
As soon as Daniela put her up on his shoulders, he reached up with one hand and said, “Now, you’ve got to grab hold of my ears, and I’ll hold on to your feet.” Her legs were just long enough that he could grab both of her feet with one hand. He looked at Daniela. “Does she have any experience being carried like this?”
She shook her head and, with one hand, gently pushed on the little girl’s back to show her how to sit up straight. “I’ll just walk back here,” she said with a laugh. “The last thing we need is to have her fall backward.”
Slowly the procession made its way back to the house.
The next morning, Weston woke up and went downstairs quietly, not wanting to wake either Daniela or Sari. As he walked past her room, he could hear Sari gurgling. He stopped with a smile on his face as he listened to the sounds of a baby waking up. It was something he had never heard before, and it was special. Very special.
He noted that Shambhala lay on the floor by the child’s bed.
Soon, he slipped down the stairs as quietly as he could, not sure what Daniela’s morning routine was, Shambhala following him. Once in the kitchen, he watched as Shambhala headed to her empty food bowl. He filled it for her and then set about making coffee. When it was ready, he watched as Shambhala returned to Sari’s room, while Weston stepped outside onto the patio, where he enjoyed his first cup, watching the sunrise.
He wondered if Daniela was intent on staying up here in Alaska. And then another thought came. If he wanted to keep up a relationship with his daughter, was he prepared to move here? There were things he would have to sort out.
He was amazed at the bond between Shambhala and Sari. Though there was a little tug at his heart when he first met Sari, there hadn’t been that immediate, overwhelming connection of “This is my child. I need to be there for her.” A part of him wondered if something was wrong with him because that hadn’t happened.
He sat here contemplating fatherhood, wondering if someone adapted to having it suddenly sprung upon them. He knew a lot of guys who were baby crazy. It was funny to see, and, while he’d seen many more women who were that way, seeing it in the occasional male was compelling. He hadn’t ever had anything to do with babies and didn’t feel any need to turn into a simpering idiot because a baby showed up.
At the same time, she was his daughter, and something was between them. It was up to him to foster it, so a bond could form between them. Maybe it was seeing the bond between Shambhala and Sari happen so fast that made him expect something like that for himself. But obviously he needed a fur coat in order to fit the bill. He snickered at his own joke.
“Well, it’s nice to see you’re having a good morning,” Daniela said, but her voice was cross. “Do you think you could give me a hand for a second?”
He bounded to his feet and turned to face her. She had Sari in her arms, only Sari was cranky and wouldn’t sit properly. He reached out his hands, taking Sari from her, putting her on his hip. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” Daniela said, rubbing her eyes. “I had a crappy night. She woke up just fine, but then, within a few minutes, she got crabby. I need a cup of coffee, and I’ll get her some food. She often wakes up superhungry.”
“That’s a family trait on my side. Sorry,” he said apologetically.
She looked at him in surprise.
“I always woke up hungry,” he said. “The first thing I did, as soon as I was old enough, was get to the cupboards and into the fridge to get myself something to eat.”
“Great,” she said. “I’ll have to start putting snacks out for Sari, so she’ll get them first thing in the morning.”
“It’s not a bad idea,” he said. “It’s what my parents did.”
She shook her head and poured herself a cup of coffee while he watched. He looked down to see Sari staring up at them. Her eyes were huge and deep. It was as if she had decided to withhold judgment on him, depending on how he behaved over the next little while.
“Good morning, Sari. I heard you talking to yourself this morning.” She looked at him, her gaze widening at the sound of his voice, and then her face split into a big smile. “That is a much nicer greeting than the first one I got from you,” he said, smiling back at her.
She was astonishing and quite substantial. He didn’t know what he’d expected her to weigh, but she was so small, he figured he wouldn’t really notice it. But suddenly she was leaning back against his arm because she wasn’t quite sure she wanted to get any closer. He could actually feel her weight now. “No wonder women get such strong muscles from packing kids,” he murmured.
Just then Daniela
stepped back outside, holding her cup of coffee. She looked up at the sun, closed her eyes and took several deep breaths.
“How long have you been in Alaska?”
“About five years,” she said. She opened her eyes and turned to look at him. “Why do you ask?”
“I was just wondering if this is where you wanted to be,” he explained. “If this is where your family and friends are, or if you were open to moving somewhere else.”
“I came here because of Charlie. As it happened, my sister was here already. Our parents live in Maine.”
“That’s a long way to come,” he said.
She nodded. “It is,” she said. “I’m sure more employment opportunities are in other places, but I do like it here.”
“Like as in a lot?”
Her lips kicked up at the corners. “Like,” she repeated. “It’s hard to love the winters.”
He grinned. “For that reason alone, Maine sounds like a better deal,” he said.
“But then, there’s the people,” she said with a shudder. “And very high real estate.”
“True, but there are plenty of other states. New Mexico, for one. How about Oregon? Anything along the West Coast or in the Southwest. You could do quite well in those areas.”
She nodded. “But I’d have to have a reason. I can’t just pick up and move for no reason. It’s hard to uproot her, and I’d still have to have the money to make it happen, which I don’t.”
“Quite true,” he said in agreement.
“Where do you live?”
“I was in New Mexico,” he said, “and that’s where the group of guys are that I ended up working with before I came here. I was raised in Colorado, but we all left as soon as I was a teenager. My parents live in Arizona.”
“I don’t think I want to go that far south,” she said. “I don’t mind four seasons. I think it’s stunning to have fall and spring.”
“Agreed,” he said, “but I’m in the position of having to find a job too.”
She studied him for a long moment.
He dropped his gaze to the backyard, where he’d seen a small garden she had tried and then either gave up on or it just wasn’t warm enough yet for the sprouts to come up.
“Are you asking for a specific reason?”
“Of course,” he said. “We’re both facing an uncertain future and are at odd ends. The question is whether we want to align some of our future, so we can make a parental relationship work.”
“Oh,” she said, then gave a clipped nod. “Of course that makes sense. I’d never considered moving away.”
“But you did consider me moving up here?”
She gave him a half grin. “Yeah. Selfish of me, wasn’t it?”
He shrugged. “It’s reasonable, I think, to expect or want other people to make a change instead of yourself.”
“I hadn’t considered that,” she said, sitting down on the step with a rather hard thump. “I would certainly miss my sister.”
“Of course,” he said. “I don’t know that living in another state is what you want. Or if that would be any easier for you.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Sometimes I think it’s better to stay because the memories are here, and then other times I think I’d be better off to get away from the memories. I just get through that day, and then all I can see is getting through the next day, so I don’t really think about down the road to some different future.”
“Understood,” he said with a smile.
As soon as she finished her coffee, she stood. “Let’s bring her inside, so we can get breakfast.”
He took Sari in, set her in her high chair, and she grinned up at him. He pulled up a chair beside her and sat down. “What does she normally have for breakfast?”
“Her favorite is toast.” It wasn’t long before the toaster popped up.
Sari picked up a piece and started munching away.
Weston laughed. “Does she get most of it in her mouth?”
Daniela’s laughter made his smile even brighter. “She does eventually,” she said. “But, in the meantime, there’ll be butter everywhere, particularly in her hair.”
And just as she said that, he watched Sari run her mucky fingers over her head. He grinned. “You must spend a lot of time with her in the bath.”
“Washcloths do a pretty good job,” she said cheerfully. She came back over with another piece of toast cut into little squares.
He looked at it with interest as she put some peanut butter on it and handed over one square. “Only one square?”
“Yes,” she answered. “Sari likes to lick off the peanut butter but doesn’t eat most of the bread.” She looked over at him. “What would you like for breakfast?”
“Normally I eat a fairly big breakfast,” he said, “but I don’t want to put you out or eat you out of house and home. I can always go to town and pick up something or go to a restaurant.”
She waved her hand at him. “Nonsense. You do remember you gave me a pile of cash yesterday, right? But you’ll need to tell me what you mean, when you say, a big breakfast.”
“Bacon and eggs or something like that for a start,” he said. “I can cook it if you have the ingredients.”
She looked at him, surprising him with a nod. “I think we can manage that.” She walked to the fridge, pulled out a pack of bacon and a dozen eggs. “Anything else?”
He looked in to see a couple cold baked potatoes on the rack and spoke up. “Were you saving those potatoes for anything?”
She shook her head. “Nope. If you want them, go for it.”
He snagged them both and chopped them into little pieces, frying them in a pan with the bacon. When everything was done, he moved it all off to the side, cracking a couple eggs and adding them to the pan. When he had the eggs cooked the way he liked, he used the spatula to put it all onto a plate, took it to the table and sat down beside them. He noticed that Daniela had just toast too, along with her daughter.
He stopped, looked at her plate and asked, “You can have half of this, if you’d like.”
She chuckled. “Then it wouldn’t be a big breakfast, would it?” she teased.
“I should have asked if you wanted some. I’m embarrassed I didn’t.”
“I don’t eat breakfast,” she said. “I don’t have much appetite in the morning.”
“Good to know,” he said.
With that, he dug into his breakfast. Sari watched him with fascination. He looked at her as she started banging her high chair tray. “Would she eat any of this?”
“It’s all good food for her,” she said, “so you can try her with some of it.”
He picked up a piece of bacon, snapped off a little bit and handed it to her. She grabbed it from his hand and put it in her mouth. Almost a blissful look came over her face. He laughed. “Maybe I shouldn’t have done that.”
“No, maybe not,” Daniela said with a heavy sigh. “She does like your food, so that’s a good thing. But trying to keep some foods in the house is not an easy job.”
“Not at all,” he said. “But you’re doing a lovely job with her.”
She looked at him in surprise. “You mean, all that you’ve seen in the last day or two.”
He shrugged. “Well, so far, it’s all I’ve got,” he said. “The house is clean. Sari looks great. She’s eating well, and she’s happy. You care deeply about her, and she adores you, so it’s obvious she’s doing very well in your care.”
She noticeably relaxed at that, which made him realize just how much fear was inside her.
“Did you really expect me to try to take her away from you?”
She gave him a flat glare. “Expect, no, but people are people. So while I certainly didn’t want to entertain the idea, it’s hard not to be concerned.”
“I understand,” he said.
Just then her phone rang. She looked at it and gasped.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Angel,” she said.
�
�You might as well answer it,” he said. “We need to deal with this one way or another.”
She looked at him with fear evident in her eyes.
“Put it on Speakerphone.”
She did as he asked and set the phone on the table, taking a deep breath. “Angel, what’s up?”
“I want to come see my daughter,” Angel said abruptly.
“Why is that?” Daniela asked.
There was silence at first. “She is my daughter,” Angel said belligerently.
Weston was interested in her tone of voice. Nothing in there said Angel missed her daughter and wanted to see her or that Angel was heartbroken at having given her up. Angel spoke as if Sari were a possession—as if she had ownership. He just nodded at Daniela to keep the conversation going.
“She’s not your daughter anymore, Angel,” Daniela said calmly. “I have the paperwork to prove it.”
“You can’t keep her from me,” Angel said.
“I don’t know about that,” Daniela replied. “The thing is, this is the first time in eighteen months you’ve even bothered to contact me about her. So why now?”
“Well, maybe I just want to see her now,” Angel said.
“I don’t think so,” Daniela murmured.
“What? Do you think you’re the only mother around?” Angel snapped. “You’re not a real mother anyway,” she said. “I’m the mother. You’re just a babysitter. This isn’t over, and, when you least expect me, I’ll be there.”
At that, Western snatched the phone and said, “That’s a very interesting comment you just made there, Angel.”
Suspicious, she said, “Who’s there? Who is that?”
“Sari’s father,” Weston said in a silky voice, as he looked over at Daniela. “I’m here for a visit with my daughter.”
A shocked silence came on the other end of the phone. “God, why would she want you there?” Angel said, her voice snide as always. “And just because you’re there doesn’t mean I can’t be. That’s my daughter, and you’re not keeping her from me.”
“Like Daniela said, it’s interesting that you haven’t wanted anything to do with Sari all this time. Why now, Angel? Did you find a buyer for her? Is there something you want? Drug money, perhaps? Did you end up in a slum somewhere and need cash to pick up your game?”