Dad in Training (7 page)

The school day had dragged. She barely tasted what she ate of her lunch, and now her enthusiasm for the class she loved had dampened. How long could she keep Teacher’s Pet going in a school setting? Would the shelter administrator continue to loan her the dogs and go through the hassle of bringing them to the school each week? Without them, her program would fail. She sent up another prayer, thanking God for the shelter’s support.

Drawing up her shoulders, she grabbed her classroom notes and headed down the corridor. She had eight students who needed her to be spirited and teach them life skills. Her own problems needed to be leashed and tied to a tree. As she entered, their voices overwhelmed her. Working with special needs students meant capturing their interest and then keeping it, which was no easy trick.

“In your seats,” Molly said, her index fingers touching her lips. “Other students in this building need to hear their teachers, and we have work to do.”

Chairs scraped along the floor, someone swished a book onto the floor followed by a poke, and two boys nose-dived to retrieve the books.

“You don’t want me to send the dogs back to the shelter, do you?”

Eight faces turned to her. “Why?” one student asked.

“If we don’t have time to cover our class work, then that’s the option. Remember, I give you choices. That’s a little different than how we train the dogs.”

One eager student, Meg, waved her hand. “Yes, because we can make smart decisions.”

Molly nodded. “Everyone can make wise choices.”

“Dogs can think.” Adam’s voice cut through the air. “They’re smarter than some people.”

Brent popped into Molly’s mind and she agreed. “Dogs are very smart, but they can get confused with choices sometimes just like we do.” She looked at each of them as she realized
that she’d confused Brent. What’s more, she’d bombarded him without regard to protocol.

Noise grew in the room, and Molly got a grip on herself. “Today we’re going to talk about things we can learn from a dog.” Somehow she led the discussion on attributes, hoping they could see that they had also learned some of these qualities. She watched the time tick by. Finally the class ended and they left the room and headed for the large multipurpose room.

Once there, Adam headed for the exit door and opened it. Outside, Molly saw the shelter’s van. “Does everyone have a leash?”

The students waved the leashes while a couple cracked them like whips.

“Careful.” She motioned them toward her. “Line up and we’ll bring in the dogs one by one.”

Struggling to stay focused, Molly asked an adult volunteer to keep the line moving and headed to the center of the room. As she reviewed her teaching notes, an office secretary stepped through the corridor door and beckoned her.

“You have a visitor.” She pointed behind her. “Is it okay if he comes in?”

He? Molly’s heart stood still. She shifted closer to the doorway and saw Brent standing in the hallway. “It’s fine.” Her voice sounded breathless.

The secretary motioned him inside and left, closing the door.

Molly watched as Brent strode toward her. He looked uneasy. Seeing him that way, she pulled herself together and filled her lungs. “Thank you for coming. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

He scanned the room and then focused on the students.

“This part of the class is hands-on. School ends in two weeks, so this is their last chance to prepare for graduation. The shelter staff who houses the dogs will test their skills.
Then if all looks good, they’ll be adopted or at least will go to a foster home until they can be adopted.”

His gaze finally settled on her. “Molly, I’m sorry about Monday. I know I hurt you and—”

She ached, seeing his discomfort. “I’m sorry, too.” She glanced over her shoulder at the students. “I need to get started.” She pointed to a stack of chairs piled against one wall. “Have a seat anywhere.”

He studied her as if he had more to say, but instead he ambled toward the chairs.

Molly turned her attention to the children, hoping to make a good impression on Brent. If he understood what her program could do, he’d want to support it. If she had her own shelter, she could train more dogs so that they were socialized to be adopted or live with foster families, and she could invite the best students from her groups to work part-time. Another win-win situation. The animals would receive good training and the kids would feel purposeful and earn money at the same time. The experience would give them confidence and self-esteem.”

Her gaze drifted back to Brent, who watched her from across the room. Her heart lurched.

Lord, help the kids shine today. This is not as much for me, but for the kids and the dogs. They need to be loved.

So did she.

Brent sat on the hard chair, his discomfort rising each second. He’d been rash to stop and give her hope. His motive was selfish. Randy needed something to draw him out of himself, and if Molly was right, something like this might work.

Randy was about the age of these kids, but Randy’s school didn’t have a program like this. A school psychologist had diagnosed Randy with ADHD. But Brent suspected no one had really put a finger on Randy’s condition. One thing he’d
noticed since he’d tried to be more like a dad is that when he gave Randy his undivided attention, the boy’s behavior improved.

A black Lab pulled away from a student, his leash dragging across the floor while the girl chased after him. The dog headed straight for Brent. Before he could stand, the dog plopped a paw on each knee and swiped his tongue across Brent’s turned cheek.

“Get down,” Brent said, trying to grab the leash.

The girl grasped the strap from him. “Teddy. Off.”

The dog stepped down and sat in front of him.

“Good boy, Teddy.” The girl ruffled his head and handed him a small piece of dry dog food.

“Good boy,” Brent repeated and then looked up at the girl. “You did a nice job.”

“You didn’t.”

His head jerked back. He reminded himself she was a special needs student.

“‘Get down’ confuses a dog. ‘Down’ means lay on the floor. They don’t even know what ‘get’ means.” She stared him straight in the eyes. “You have to say ‘off.’ Trained dogs know that.”

Brent wanted to laugh. “Thank you. I’ll remember that.”

“Good.” She stood there a moment and then extended the leash. “Want to walk him?”

“Meg.”

Molly’s firm voice surprised Brent.

She looked at the girl with a scowl as she strutted across the floor. “You need to join the class. Next week we have more visitors who’ll watch how well you work with the dogs. You need to practice.”

“I know,” the girl said as she drew the leash tighter and headed back to the center of the room with Teddy at her heels.

Molly dug her hands into her pockets. “Sorry. They’re supposed to keep a tight rein on them.”

“It’s okay, Molly. She really did a nice job. She even gave me a little lesson.”

“I hope she wasn’t rude.”

Rude? He thought about the way he’d treated Molly. The student had been no ruder than he’d been. “Blunt, not rude.”

She bit the corner of her lip and backed away, tilting her head toward the students. “I need to get back to work.”

So did he, but he didn’t move. He watched Molly with the kids—loving but firm, teaching and rewarding. Brent lowered his head, thinking of his father’s orders to learn to be a dad. He had much to learn about discipline and everything to learn about loving.

B
rent wants to talk with me.

Molly peered at the text message and reread it.
Call me about Teacher’s Pet
. She pressed her cell phone against her chest, her heart hammering against her palm.

Dreams were for dreaming, but some were for living. Molly’s hope rose. Maybe her heart’s desire could become a reality. She closed her eyes to stem her tears and then opened them again to eye the wall clock. She counted the minutes before lunch. Her students’ questions swirled in her mind until she could sort them and answer as she always did. The note barraged her thoughts, and she couldn’t let it go.

The bell sounded. Students gathered their materials and put books away, then scampered out the door. Some lagged behind with last-minute questions or feared leaving the sanctity of the classroom, where they knew they were accepted. No matter what problem hampered them, some students enjoyed raising their own self-esteem by putting down others. She tried to teach them to respect everyone, but sometimes she failed.

“See you tomorrow, Roxie.” She waved at one of her newest students, a transfer from out of state.

Molly closed the door and stepped away from the bustle of
the corridor where lockers clanged and students called out insults as they passed each other. No wonder her job seemed endless.

Near the window, she pulled her cell phone from her pants pocket and hit the number and waited.

It rang twice and then stopped. She eyed her cell phone display.
Call failed
. She sank into the chair, clutching the phone, and tried again.

Call failed.

Slamming her hand on her desk, Molly pressed her forehead against the wood. She could picture Brent’s deep blue eyes, the occasional sparkle and vulnerable looks that appeared and then faded away. How deep was his wound? Could it be all over the loss of a dog or could it be something more? Something deeper?

A sigh fluttered from her lungs, and she lifted her head. The clock warned her that lunchtime was passing. She couldn’t eat anyway, so what was the difference? She stood and slipped the telephone into her pocket and sank back into her chair.

Brent heard the familiar jingle of his cell phone and dug it from his pocket. He read the caller ID. Molly, and on his cell phone. That confused him. The men eyed him as he flipped his cell open again.

Dial tone. He read the screen.
Missed call
.

Surprised at the tug of his heart, he slipped his phone back into his pocket. In a moment, it rang again. He pulled out the phone and opened the lid. The call failed again.

He clutched the cell and rose. “Sorry. This is important.” He scanned the room and headed toward a window. Hopefully he’d get a better reception. He hit Dial and Molly’s numbers beeped in. After a short ring, he heard her hello.

“Molly, this is Brent Runyan. I’m sorry about missing your calls. I had to move to a window.” The clang of silverware and
china along with the rumble of voices nearly blocked her voice.

“I had to wait for a break to return your call. Sorry. I knew it was important.”

Important. He’d never thought. Once again, his motive would disappoint her. He struggled to find his voice. “It’s hard to hear, Molly. I want to ask you some questions about your program, but this isn’t a good time.” He felt his chest tighten. “How about dinner?”

“Dinner?”

He pushed the receiver tighter against his ear. Her single word echoed silence. Dinner may have been too much for her. “Or any time. Any place, really. You choose. I’ll pick you up.” He’d been too brash. She’d been anxious the last time they’d talked and so hopeful. He knew he would only disappoint her again. His mouth opened to explain.

“Okay, but,” she said, ending his thought to be forthright, “meet me at Cregar’s. It’s a coffee shop at Crooks and Auburn Road. You’ll see it.”

What was this with Cregar’s? Ideas clicked through his head. “Okay, but why there?”

“I want to show you something.”

He heard a new lilt to her voice, and he could picture her large hazel eyes flashing the amazing sparks of green. The image squeezed against his chest. “Okay.” It wasn’t okay. He wanted to know what this was about.

Molly’s voice had brightened. “I’ll see you later.”

“Later,” he said, and the line went dead.

What happened? He’d wanted some questions answered, and suddenly she’d tangled him in one of her spur-of-the-moment adventures. Images flashed in his mind—Molly and Fred at the Rochester factory with her friend who looked as dazed as he felt; Molly teaching her class with a firm but loving hand; Molly backing away in his office when he offended her. His heart melted. She did that to him. Today
she’d sidetracked him, and now he could only speculate what she had in mind for him.

He’d nearly fallen over his feet many times since he’d met her. She had a way about her. A delight he’d never seen in an adult before. Maybe he was in the wrong business. Molly loved her mission. He had no doubt about it. She’d do anything to make her dream come true, and he had to admire her for that, except he was part of that dream, and he could fail her. Business was business, and her scheme might make little sense to the board unless he could convince them otherwise.

He filled his lungs and calmed himself. When he headed for the table, his coworkers were watching. He had to finish his lunch or cause suspicion, but right now his stomach objected. His delicious steak sandwich had been swept away by a pair of hazel-green eyes.

Molly stared out the coffee shop window. Would this end with another fiasco, or would she make a point? She’d decided to take a chance again. The last one had blown up in her face, and this one could, too. She folded her hands and closed her eyes, sending up a prayer for guidance. She had no idea what Brent wanted, but she’d hoped he wanted to tell her he had worked it out and the building could be hers. Why else would he call?

But good news didn’t always come her way. So while her reasoning seemed logical, in her heart she feared a failure. Molly sipped her latte, wishing she’d skipped dinner. Anxiety knotted her stomach.

A sports car pulled in, and her eyes followed it, waiting to see him step out. Her breath hitched when she saw him. Brent strode toward the door, looking purposeful. Instead of a suit, he wore a knit polo shirt that emphasized his broad chest like an endless sea of deep teal blue.

She turned away from the window and focused on her drink. It was now or never. The words sprang to her mind.

“Molly.”

She looked over her shoulder and managed a smile. “Hi. Thanks for coming, Mr. Runyan.” She had to catch herself every time she said his name.

“Mr. Runyan?”

He stood over her with an expression she couldn’t read while the knot around her dinner squeezed it up to her throat.

“If I call you Molly, how about calling me Brent.” His mouth curved to a grin. “
Mr. Runyan
belongs to my father.”

Brent. The familiar name felt right. But to say it aloud to him? She managed a nod and rested her hand on her shoulder bag. “Do you want to talk now or later?”

His eyes shifted to her hand. “Let’s talk later. Apparently you want to show me something.” A faint scowl stole to his face. “I don’t like surprises.”

“It’ll only take a few minutes.” She felt as if she should duck. She stood and slipped her bag over her shoulder. “I’ll drive. I know where we’re going. It’s just up the road.”

He flinched, yet stepped back, allowing her to go first. She led him to her car and even opened the door for him. She smiled, but he didn’t. Once on the road, they fell silent. Molly wanted to explain where they were going, but she decided to let her purpose speak for itself.

Seeing the Adams Road traffic light ahead, she looked for the building and then pulled into the parking lot and slipped the car into a space. “This is it.” She jumped out and shut her door.

He didn’t move.

Wondering what he was thinking but not really wanting to know, she headed around the car and opened his door. “This is it.”

He pointed to the sign on the building. “Michigan Humane Society?”

“You said you wanted to talk about Teacher’s Pet.” She tilted her head toward the entrance. “These people cooperate
with me to make the program work. We’re like a team, hoping to make this a ‘no-kill community.’”

He glanced away and then stepped out. “You’re tenacious, Molly. You just don’t give up, do you?” He grinned.

She smiled back and shook her head. “Not when it’s something this important.”

“Let’s go. I can’t wait to see what you have in store.”

Molly waved at the person behind the desk as she entered, knowing she’d become a familiar face at the facility.

“We’d like to look at the dogs,” she said, flashing a secretive wink at the young man.

“Go right ahead. You know the way.”

Molly beckoned Brent to follow, and though he shook his head at her, he did as she asked. He needed to see for himself the many dogs needing homes, dogs that could make wonderful pets and who would have quality lives if someone adopted them.

After closing the first door, yelps and woofs caterwauled from the room ahead of them. Sensing Brent holding back, Molly looked over her shoulder. His handsome face appeared tense, and she realized this would be another of her do-or-die escapades. If he didn’t come around, she’d lose every chance of winning him over.

“I know you believe I’m underhanded, but I want you to see why I’m so determined to open a shelter. Mine would be one leaf on a tree, but it would be the tree of life for these animals. Do you realize how many dogs are lost because there’s no home for them?”

“You’ve told me, Molly, and I—”

“I want to create a sanctuary for these animals so they can become someone’s pet. I can help train them and socialize them so they can live in a loving home, and in the process, I can help children who have needs, too.”

She felt tears filling her eyes, and Brent’s expression only caused them to grow. He looked wounded.

Brent touched her arm. “I wanted to talk about that, but you brought me here.”

“I know, but I—” She gazed at his palm against her arm. “We’re here. Let’s just take a look.”

Molly backed away as Brent’s fingers slid from her arm. Without encouraging him to follow, she pulled herself together and marched toward the dog cages. Once inside, they were greeted with barks and tails wagging—labs, hounds, terriers, shepherds, setters—even a cute dachshund stuck its nose against the cage walls. Molly bent and petted the animal.

Brent stood in the middle of the aisle, avoiding the eager dogs on each side. Yet something caused him to turn, and he knelt beside a golden Lab and petted the dog’s nose through the cage, as if in a trance.

Befuddled by his behavior, she stood beside him and waited. When he remained there, she stooped to join him. “His name is Rocket,” she said, pointing to the name written on a card on the cage.

When Brent rose, his expression seemed haunted, and Molly’s conscience pinged with regret. She touched his arm. “Let’s go.”

He eased upward, his gaze riveted to the dog. In slow motion, he turned toward the door and followed her into the corridor.

“Let’s go back to the coffee shop,” she said, wanting to end the excruciating situation. What had she done?

Brent turned his back on the pitiful sight and followed Molly out of the building. If any woman could get under his skin, Molly would win the prize. She either made him want to yell or kiss her. He’d tried to keep her out of his mind, but she clung there like arsenic and honey to a spoon. Sweet, yet poison.

The golden retriever looked like Toby. It took him back to his youth, a time when he felt so unloved except by the gentle
dog. Since the day Toby vanished, he hardened his heart to attachments. What else could a boy do? He’d lost his best friend. His ally.

When he thought about his youth, Randy filled his mind. Their traits were similar—the boy could have been his son. While Randy felt abandoned by his father who died and his mother who ran out on him, as a boy Brent had felt ignored and useless. Randy covered his feelings with aloofness and bad behavior, but Brent had hidden his feelings of rejection and found joy and love in his dog. His brother, Randall, had his father’s strengths. He hunted and took control, fearless as a bee with its stinger ready. Brent, with his head in books and dreams, was a fly, just an irritating nuisance.

The driver’s door slammed closed, and Molly waited.

Brent realized he’d been standing at the passenger side with his mind everywhere but in the present. He opened the door and slid in, wanting to apologize, but too tangled in confusion to find the words.

Molly turned the key in the ignition but didn’t shift into Reverse.

He waited until the silence became unbearable and then turned toward her, wanting to break the barricade.

“Rocket reminded you of Toby,” she said before he could say anything.

Her comment smacked him in the stomach, and the knot uncurled into a streamer of memories. “Yes. Very much.”