by Kate Kinsley
Dave’s gesture made her heart squeeze. “Thank you. Let me give you some money.” She reached for her wallet, digging a hand in her pocket.
“Nope. Not happening.” He put up his hand, refusing her money. “It’s just a little food. I think I can handle it. Besides, I’m part of the reason you brought him home.” Dave’s eyes locked with hers, begging her not to dispute what was, at best, a half-truth.
“You, David?” Her mother’s face twisted in disbelief. “I find that hard to believe. You’ve always been practical. Charity bringing home a dog when she knows she isn’t going to be here to take care of it wasn’t very smart.” She looked over at Charity. “In a few days, she’ll have to give him up. You know how she is with animals. Always getting her heart broken.”
It was amazing to Charity how easily her mother served a conflicting cocktail of tender words and condescending looks. “And why’s that? Because you’ve never let me have a pet. Why don’t you just say it? You hate animals.”
“Stop it, Charity.” Her mother gave her a steely look. “I do not hate animals. I simply don’t have time for them. You used to bring home every stray you saw. If it had been up to you, we would have had a farm.”
Dismissing the topic, her mother turned to Dave. Again, she morphed entirely from superior and bitchy to the perfect hostess. “Dinner won’t be ready for a little while. You certainly have time to run out, but I hope that you’ll join us for Charity’s homecoming dinner.”
Dave looked at Charity for approval. She nodded, desperate for him to accept. She was thrilled to have a buffer between her and her mother. Her father usually played the role, but she didn’t want to tax his health by having him referee.
Dave caught the meaning of her expression. “Thank you, Miss Anne. I’d love to stay.” He looked down at Snowflake, whose tail beat a rhythm against his tee shirt. “But first, I’m going to take care of this little guy.”
Chapter Nine
While Dave was out, Charity took her duffle bag to her room. She hopped in the shower, the hot spray loosening tight muscles while it washed away the sweaty grime. She got her anger in check and mentally prepared to be with her mother for two weeks. How foolish of her to think her mom would put aside her bitchiness and simply be happy her daughter was home. Charity chastised herself. The army had taught her to prepare for the enemy, yet she wasn’t ready for the mental combat that always seemed to happen whenever she and her mom were together. Her CO would have been disappointed in her performance, but the truth was that her mother still tried to control her. It didn’t matter to her that Charity was an adult or a soldier, her behavior hadn’t changed. Unfortunately, it was a source of friction. What Charity saw as independence, Anne perceived as disobedience. Their mother/daughter relationship included a fair share of dysfunction, but Charity refused to blindly obey her mother’s whims. Although she’d only been home a handful of times in four years, each visit resulted in more strain and friction in their relationship. She could understand why Anne would display such controlling behavior while she was a kid, and even when she went to college, but not now.
She closed her eyes, allowing the water to go from hot to cool. Undoubtedly the cold temperature helped to abate her anger. It was either that, or she had more confidence in herself after strategizing multiple case scenarios that would allow her to have a great visit with her dad, keep her mom at bay, and enjoy Snowflake before finding him a home.
She stepped out of the shower, drying off with a big, fluffy towel. It felt so good against her skin and was so different from the ones on base. Rubbing her skin until it glowed, she rubbed a generous amount of moisturizer in her palms and proceeded to coat her skin.
Running a brush through her hair, she pulled it into a high ponytail. A pair of shorts and a tank top were the outfit of the day now that she was feeling refreshed and relaxed. She smudged a bit of mascara onto her lashes and pinched her cheeks to pinken them. Looking in the mirror, she was pleased with her reflection. What she wasn’t happy with was the appearance of her dad.
He looked older. Worn out. He’d lost so much weight his cheeks had hollowed. Funny, Dave had used the word “bulldog” to reference her in their conversation; that was how she always pictured her dad. He was the true bulldog. His appearance was gruff. Determined. What he lacked in height he more than made up in muscle. His hair was cut in a flat-top style, so he still bore that military look. Although she’d tried many times to get him to grow it out and get in style with the times, he’d refused. “Why mess with perfection?” was his standard answer, and Charity had to agree. To her, he was perfect in every way.
She descended the stairs, her flip-flops slapping against her soles and making a sound with each step. When she entered the living room, she found him sitting in his favorite chair. The soft, blue corduroy fabric was worn from years of use. For Christmas last year she’d offered to buy him a new one. He’d refused. As she approached, she saw he was napping, but his eyes popped open when she tried to quietly tiptoe away.
“Where are you going?” He sounded like he’d swallowed crushed glass, the gravely sound tickling her ear. A broad smile split her face.
“Hi, Daddy.”
“Don’t you look pretty?”
Charity took the seat nearest to him. “Thank you. I had such an early flight—a connecting one at that. I felt nasty. You know what I mean?”
He nodded. “I do.” He reached for her hand. “I’m so glad you’re home.”
“Me too.” She leaned in to kiss his cheek. Pulling back, she noticed his eyes had lost their sparkle. His skin had dulled as well, the color evidence of his health struggle.
Though Charity understood it would take time for him to heal, she couldn’t remember a time when her father’s summer appearance wasn’t healthy. He loved to go crabbing with some friends, which always resulted in his skin tanning. Concern gripped her heart like a vice, effectively giving a squeeze. Instead of the pleasurable one she’d experienced with Dave, this one pained her. “I really missed you, Daddy.”
“I missed you, too, Angel. Are you getting our mail?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “Letters. Cards. Packages. Emails. I get them all, and I’ve kept each one. I read them on days when I’m feeling homesick.” Charity gave his knee a reassuring pat.
Her dad cocked his head toward the kitchen and her mother. “I don’t know how this is going to play out with her and the pup.”
“I don’t know either.” She sighed. “She can be a real pain in the ass.”
“She has a name, Charity, and I don’t like to hear you disrespect her. She’s your mother—she’s also right.” His expression saddened. “She’s got enough on her plate with me and all this bullshit.” He glanced down at his chest.
“Still, Dad, that doesn’t excuse why she’s gotta be mean.”
“It’s just her way.”
Charity shook her head, resignation dropping her chin to her chest. “Why do you make excuses for her?”
“Because I love her.” He shrugged. “Loving someone sometimes means you overlook things.”
She rolled her eyes as a huff escaped. “That’s a lot to overlook.”
“Yes, it is,” he confirmed, “especially when you’ve been married as long as we have. I have my faults, and she has hers.” Charity smiled at him, his kind, brown eyes causing a lump to form in her throat. He paused, and his gaze softened. “So, back to the puppy.”
“He’s so sweet.” She felt a smile curve her lips.
“He is cute.” He nodded his head, confirming her statement and adding his own. “There was no one around he might have belonged to?”
Irritation clouded her eyes while disappointment shook her head. “No one. I’ll never understand someone doing something like that. It’s like leaving a baby in the middle of traffic.”
As if on cue, their attention was diverted by Dave walking in with Snowflake. Charity stood, taking the puppy from him while he placed a full bag on the floor and took a seat.
>
“I got two bowls, food, a collar and a leash, and some toys. He’s all set. He was the center of attention at the pet store. Everyone came up to pet him.”
“Good to hear, David.” Her mother entered the room wearing a pleasant smile. “If that’s an indication of his appeal, it won’t be hard to find him a home.”
Charity cut a narrow-eyed glance toward her mother, but Dave interrupted any impending confrontation by continuing his conversation. “I also had him seen by one of the vet’s at the pet store, Angel. He’s healthy, and I got his first set of shots.” Surprise widened her eyes as he looked over at her. A quirk captured the corner of his mouth as he shrugged. “What can I say? I figured I’d take a chance while I was there. They had a cancellation.”
“That was so nice of you, David. I was thinking about the little mongrel while you were gone. Who knows what germs could be living on him?” She turned her attention to Charity. “Maybe you can give him a bath out back after dinner.”
Charity nuzzled her cheek against Snowflake, intent on not giving her mother the satisfaction of an answer. “See that, little guy? You’re quite the little survivor.”
Chapter Ten
Charity and Dave disappeared down the basement steps with Snowflake and a bottle of shampoo, heading toward the backyard. As soon as they got outside, she placed the puppy on the ground. He ran to the grass and proceeded to relieve himself.
“You’re such a good boy! You knew just what to do.” Her words of praise had Snowflake excitedly running in circles and then back to her. She lifted him, holding him close while she and Dave supplied generous pats and scratches. Once he was satisfied with the affection, he wiggled so much Charity again put him down. He ran free, getting some much needed exercise. She expected that once his belly was full, he’d pass out.
Charity’s focus shifted from the puppy to the yard. Her expression fell. Though Baltimore row houses had little more than postage stamp sized outdoor living space, her father had always taken pride in having it well-manicured. Not so now. She grieved for him. The grass was a sore sight. It was overgrown. The above ground pool that provided endless hours of fun when she was little was long gone. Her dad had replaced the space with lush, green sod the summer before she left for training, and made two square raised beds for tomatoes, peppers, and cucumbers. For four years, he’d sent her pictures of his prized bounty. Now, dandelions had made their home in a hostile takeover of the green carpet he’d worked so hard to cultivate. It broke her heart.
A nudge and a whine commanded her attention, and her gaze fell to Snowflake. Ever so obedient, the moment her eyes met his, his tail took on a life of its own. Dave had turned on the hose and called Snowflake over to him. A quick bath would appease her mother, hopefully leaving the rest of them to enjoy dinner without more negative commentary about the dog. Charity followed the puppy as he went toward Dave.
“What are you all doing down there?”
She shielded her eyes as her head fell back. Her dad had taken a seat on the porch above them. The smile on his face lifted her heart. “Are you spying on me?”
“Spying?” He laughed as a broad smile split his face. “What do you mean, spying. I haven’t seen my baby in what seems like forever, and you accuse me of spying.” He laughed. “I’d call it more, watching with interest.”
She burst out with a laugh. “Good one, Daddy. I’d say you’re watching so you can supervise. You were always good at that.”
She watched her father’s gaze travel to the small plot of grass, and his smile faded. He cocked his head toward it as she watched. “It looks awful, and I know it.” He shrugged. “Not much I can do about it this year. Not with this ticker of mine.”
“I can get it back in shape while I’m here, Dad. Don’t worry about it.”
Her father’s expression crumbled. “I don’t know about that. Besides, it doesn’t make much sense for you to waste your time here in the yard because, once you go back, I won’t be able to keep it up.”
“No, but I will,” Dave’s kindness toward her father instantly brought a smile. Now, freshly shampooed and cooled off, Snowflake moved away from the hose and gave his little body a good shake.
“Thanks, Dave,” Charity offered, “but I know you’re busy with work. I’ll hire somebody to take care of the yard when I leave.”
Puzzled, he cocked his head. “Why would you do that? I’m here. It isn’t like we’re talking acres. Let me do this. Besides, I’m sure both your parents would feel better if a friend came over, rather than a stranger.”
Closing the distance to prevent her father from hearing them, she stood at Dave’s side. “You have to let me pay you. Dad won’t let you do it for nothing. He’s got his pride.”
The look in his eyes admonished her. “I don’t think so.”
“Why? I’d have to pay someone else to do it. Why not you?”
“Because I don’t need the money and I care about your parents.” His brow furrowed as his expression screwed up. “I’ll tell you what; to appease your dad, pay me. I’ll put the money in an account, and next time you’re home, we’ll all go out to dinner. He should be able to get around better by then.”
“Excuse me.” They both looked up as Charity’s father cleared his throat. “Are you guys talking about me?” Leaning forward with his forearms resting on his thighs, it was apparent he was eavesdropping. “I couldn’t hear everything, but I heard enough. Shouldn’t I have a say in this?”
Charity and Dave exchanged a look. They both looked up at him, amusement dancing in their eyes. They both gave a firm “No!” in unison, causing all three of them to burst into laughter.
Chapter Eleven
Just as the three of them settled down, Charity’s mother walked out on the porch. “Dinner’s ready.” Anne stood by her husband’s side as he rose from the chair, ready to assist him if needed. Charity, Dave, and Snowflake trailed back through the house to the upstairs living room, but Snowflake refused to climb the stairs.
“C’mon, buddy. You can do it.” Though Dave encouraged and coaxed, the puppy whined, refusing to attempt such a significant feat. It appeared that all babies—human or fur—needed help to navigate their surroundings. Charity watched Dave as he mimicked walking up the stairs with his hands, hopeful Snowflake would follow suit. Several times the pup tested, raising a paw but then pulling it back. Defeated, he plopped on his butt and gave Dave a sad look. The man crumbled beneath the dog’s helpless gaze. “We’ll try another time, buddy.” He picked him up, holding him like a tiny football, and Charity’s insides fluttered with the knowledge that, one day, Dave would make a good dad.
As they entered the dining room, Charity’s mom was setting the last of the side dishes on the table. Roast beef, mashed potatoes, glazed carrots, gravy, and biscuits were placed in the middle. The scent of home cooking made her stomach growl.
She looked over at Snowflake, who was still in Dave’s arms . It was apparent she wasn’t the only one desperate for a good meal.
Charity backed up a few steps to the kitchen where Dave had set the bag from the pet store. Grabbing a bowl and the bag of food, she poured some dry kibble into the container. As she turned to place the bowl on the floor, she caught Dave watching her.
“What do I owe you for all this stuff?”
“Nothing.” He waved her off as he shook his head. “I’m glad to do it for him—and you.” He missed the blush blooming on her cheeks as he crouched down to Snowflake’s level. The puppy was dancing on his hind legs. “Right, pup? Give her a minute.”
It was so refreshing for her to see a man who wasn’t afraid to show affection. Though Dave was as serious and studious as they came, he seemed much more comfortable in his skin than she remembered. Or maybe she just noticed it more because her army buddies all acted so macho.
Everything was a competition with them. She’d grown used to it. That’s what made Dave’s tenderness stand out to her. He was confident and kind. She liked it—and it made her like him all th
e more.
She filled the second bowl with water, opening the freezer to grab a few ice cubes to keep it cold. Grabbing one of her mom’s old, plastic placemats she kept for when children visited, she made a little spot on the floor under the table where the puppy would be able to eat without getting in anyone’s way. She was just about to put the bowls down when she had a thought. Taking the food bowl, she stepped into the dining room and spooned a small amount of beef gravy on top of the dry food. Pleased with herself, she came back to the kitchen and put down both bowls. Snowflake’s face disappeared into the mix.
“There was some wet food in the bag. Why didn’t you just mix that with the dry?” Dave gave her a puzzled look.
Charity peered over her shoulder, keeping her voice down as she looked for her mother’s whereabouts. She lifted her finger to her lips to shush him, then gave him a sly look. “It’s a celebration dinner. He deserves a little treat, too.”
Chapter Twelve
“C’mon you two. Dinner’s on the table.” Anne’s tone was terse, interrupting them as she retrieved the last remaining platter.
“Here. Let me get it for you, Miss Anne.” Dave relieved Charity’s mom of the heavy stoneware dish piled high with sliced roast beef. “Well, aren’t you the gentleman? Thank you, David.”
The singsong, flirty lilt of her mother’s voice was one she saved for special occasions—especially those that involved someone she thought would be suitable for her daughter. Charity did an eye-roll behind her mother’s back while an unspoken “ugh” went through her mind. This was sure to be the topic of conversation later tonight. Her mom would wait until Dave was gone, and her father was asleep, of course, but there was no doubt in her mind her mom would launch into a litany of Dave’s exceptional qualities and suitability as a potential husband. Not that she was opposed to the possibility of a date with him, but she didn’t want to discuss her personal life with her mother. She meddled, and then she pressured. She knew her well. If it were up to her, she’d have her engaged to Dave in a heartbeat.