Dad in Training (8 page)

“I’m sorry, Mr….Brent.” She faltered. “I’ve called you Brent in my mind all the time.”

Her admission skittered through his chest. How often had she thought of him? As much as he’d thought of her? She’d become sparkles in his mind that sometimes made him grimace and sometimes caused him to smile.

“I like the sound of Brent.” He’d let the truth slip. How long could he keep the chains wrapped around his heart? “It sounds right.”

“It does to me, too.” She shifted into Reverse, maneuvered to the road and headed back the way they’d come.

But his pleasant thoughts soon clanked into dungeonlike questions. Was Molly only manipulating him to get her hands on the property? Her determination scared him. He fought back his pessimism, and the dark question sank beneath logic. When he looked into her eyes, he witnessed only sincerity.

As the café appeared, Brent released his pent-up breath. He’d invited her tonight so they could talk, but now she’d muddied the waters with the trip to the Humane Society, and he knew she didn’t suspect what he wanted. They each had a motive and each with a purpose important to them, but opposite.

“Do you still want to talk?” Molly’s voice cut into his thoughts.

He looked into her eyes. “Yes, but if—”

She pulled on the door handle and was outside the car before he could finish his sentence.

They placed their order and found a small table. Her latte smelled of cinnamon, and he took a sip of his black coffee, needing the caffeine to steady his jangled nerves.

Molly set her cup on the table and folded her hands. “You know why I came out this way. Now it’s time I learn what you wanted to say.”

His well-rehearsed commentary and organized questions slid into a whirlpool of discomposure. Where to begin? “Molly, I don’t think this is what you wanted to hear.”

Hope skittered from her face.

“I’m really here about my nephew, Randy.” He squirmed in his chair, wishing he were telling her the board agreed to rent her the property for some small amount.

“You’ve never mentioned him, and I asked.”

The hurt look on her face made him yearn to reach out and hold her in his arms. “Your question got lost in our conversation, and I didn’t guide it back. Randy’s a difficult topic for me, but one I need to deal with.”

“Deal with?”

The edgy tone in her voice let him know what she thought. “I mean…Molly, it’s a long story.”

“I know some of it, I think. Just tell me.”

He drew back, filling his lungs with air while feeling it leak out again before he could speak. He began with Randall’s death, the boy’s mother leaving Randy behind and Randy’s life with his grandparents and then his grandfather alone. “My dad has asked me to take over, and I’m at a loss. Randy needs too much. I don’t know if he’s ADHD or if he’s just stubborn or if—”

“Or if he’s scared or lonely or hurt or confused or a hundred other things that we all feel. He’s a child. He needs love first.”

Love first
. The words plowed into his chest and knocked out what little wind he had. He’d watched her with her students. Her firm control still reflected love. She understood what a kid needed, and he knew that’s what he lacked. The woman was a breathing compassion machine. If he only had half the concern and thoughtfulness she did. “I feel helpless, Molly. I’ve never said that to another human being.”

“That’s the first step to healing.”

Healing? The doors began to close. She looked too deeply into his soul, and he didn’t want her to dig up the dregs of his life. “I wondered if Randy is too young to take your class.”

“He’s not too young, but we only work with students in our school. Randy doesn’t go there.”

He knew that, but he’d hoped. “What about private sessions?”

“Private?”

“School’s out in less than two weeks. What about then?”

She looked at her latte and swirled the milky liquid.

Surprised at his bungle, he straightened in his seat. “I’d pay you, Molly. I didn’t mean as a favor.”

“Pay?” She eyed him, a thoughtful look growing on her face. “Do you own a dog?”

“A dog? I thought you would bring one.”

Her shoulders fell, and she looked at him as if she were speaking to one of her students. “I can’t pick up individual dogs for a client. The shelter brings them to the school. Anyway, it’s not right for Randy. You want me to bring a dog for a lonely, confused boy to train and then take the dog away?” A deep breath poured from her lungs. “You can’t do that to him. If you can’t make the investment, then no one can.”

“Investment?” Now she was talking about the building again. He knew it.

“Time. Investing your time.”

He looked away, ashamed he’d misjudged her.

She didn’t stop. “A dog adds a little work to your life, but you’ll need one if you want me to help Randy.”

She pushed the latte away from her. He’d lost interest, too.

“Think about what you’re willing to do for the boy, and then I’ll decide what I can do for you.”

“But—”

She leaned in closer. “Brent, it’s a good idea. I think you know what kind of companionship a dog can provide. They give people joy and friendship…and love. In my opinion, Randy needs all those things.”

So do I. The words shot through Brent’s mind like bullets. But a dog? He closed his eyes, envisioning the added confusion to his life, but then he thought of Randy. A dog would get him out of his room. The boy would have responsibilities. A playmate.

“If we get a dog, I will pay you for the training.” From the look on her face, he knew her thoughts. “I can’t promise you the building. I can recommend it, but it’s up to the board of directors to approve such an unorthodox proposal.”

“But you’ll try?”

Her voice pleaded while his heart melted. “I’ll need some things from you. I’d need a blueprint of what you want to do with the building. Since it would still be our property, the
board will want to know that it will remain intact so it could be sold as a factory and offices someday.”

“I can do that.” Her hand raised to her chest as if she were holding back her heart.

“And we’ll need some kind of plan of action. How you’ll use the building, how you’ll maintain it. They’ll want to know everything.”

Her face lit like the sun. “When would you need it?”

“I need it before I can approach them with the idea.” She nodded before he finished.

“Give me a week, but I’ll need to get inside the building again to measure and to calculate our needs.”

“I can get someone to take you there.” He fought back the desire to press his hand against hers. “Or I can take you.”

Her face lit up. “What about tomorrow?”

He nodded, agreeing to what his heart told him to do. “That’ll work. Can I bring Randy along? Maybe you can tell him about your program, and we’ll see how he responds.”

Her eyes questioned him as she leaned against the cushion. “You didn’t talk to him about this yet?”

He lifted his hand in defense. “If he said yes, he’d be disappointed if you wouldn’t agree. I didn’t know how you’d respond.”

From her look, she accepted his reasoning. “Yes, bring him along. I’d like to see him now that he’s four years older. I’m sure he’s changed. He must be about twelve?”

“Eleven, but he has a birthday in July.”

Molly’s tension seemed to vanish. “How about another coffee? One we’ll actually drink.”

“Great idea.” He started to stand, but she extended her hand toward him.

“We have an agreement?”

Brent eyed her delicate fingers while his pulse jigged up his arm. “I agree to take your proposal to the board with your blueprint and your plan, and you agree to work with Randy.”

“If you get a dog.” A strained look stole to her face.

“If I get a dog.”

“I know one that’s available and needs training.”

So did he.

T
he gate sat open and Molly spotted Brent’s car near the side door to the building. She stepped onto the asphalt parking lot, slammed the door and hit the lock button on her key chain. She studied the building, shaken by the possibility that her dream might finally come true. If…

But she didn’t want to think about the
if
. The board had to agree. She’d thought about it long and hard. She’d prayed, and her confidence had grown. An empty building was a tax deduction, but a building donated to a worthy cause was an additional write-off. They had to go for it.

She kicked a stone with the toe of her shoe as she headed toward the door, listening to the voices coming from inside. She recognized Brent’s voice powering the conversation. Randy’s soft tenor voice reached her ears as a hum. When she stepped inside, her shadow splayed across the floor, and Randy spun around, followed by Brent’s turn of the head.

His body followed. “You made it.”

“Are you surprised?” She dug into her handbag and tugged out a hundred-foot tape measure, dropped her bag near the door and walked toward them.

Brent chuckled, motioning to the large tape. “You came prepared.”

She noticed he had a smaller one clipped to his waistband. She grinned at him before focusing on Randy. “Remember me?”

The boy took a step back, his eyes shifting from Brent to her. Finally he nodded. “From school.”

“You were in my class, but you’ve definitely grown up.”

A faint grin stole across the boy’s face, and he gave her a direct look for the first time.

She was taken aback by the same glinting eyes that Brent had, but the boy’s were a softer blue, like a summer sky. Randy’s past moody behavior, often charged with frustration, had altered. Today she witnessed a different boy, one who appeared shy and ill at ease.

Molly held out the tape measure. “Would you help me measure?”

He stood a moment as if weighing her offer. Finally he stepped closer and grasped the tape, then turned to Brent. “It’s a bigger one than you have.”

Brent laughed. “It sure is, but we’d better talk first before we measure anything.”

A scowl tugged at her face. If he meant talk about their agreement, it meant he didn’t trust her. “Talk about what?”

He held up his hand as if mollifying her attitude. “You need to decide what goes where. Do you want an office. A waiting room? A workroom? Cages? Indoor exercise space?”

She cringed. “Sorry. I thought—”

“I accept your apology.” He grinned and headed for the front of the building. She followed.

When she looked behind her, Randy hadn’t moved. Instead he’d yanked out the tape many feet and then, from his gleeful look, discovered the retraction button. He pushed it, and the tape came flinging back like a lizard’s tongue and snapped back into the case. Randy’s giggle resounded against the concrete walls.

“He’s grown up.”

Brent shifted. “I know.”

Hearing the flack of Randy retracting the tape measure again, Molly moved closer to Brent. “He’s a good-looking boy. His behavior isn’t catching up to his age, either. Responsibility and a purpose would help him mature.”

Brent’s jaw tightened and a small muscle ticked in his cheek. His gaze shifted to Randy across the room, dragging out the tape again and flicking it back into its housing. “Let’s talk about the building.”

The smack of his words stung, but he was right. She’d stepped over the line and let her teacher persona slip beyond the bonds of their relationship. “I shouldn’t have said that. It’s not my business.”

His neck circled her way and their eyes met. “I’ve made it your business, Molly, by asking you to help me. That’s all I know to do right now.”

The responsibility of Randy had obviously stretched Brent’s ability to the max. He seemed like a lost puppy, searching for rescue. Molly stepped forward and rested her hand against his arm. “It’ll come. Be yourself with him. He loves you, and that’s what’s important.”

“Does he?” Doubt filled Brent’s eyes.

“You know he does.”

“Maybe I don’t know the difference between love and tolerance, Molly.”

She reeled from his comment but kept her expression steady. After meeting Brent’s father, she couldn’t imagine Brent’s youth being that problematic. Molly’s mind clicked with theories. What caused a man to lug around that kind of doubt in himself?

Realizing her hand still lay on his arm, she lifted her palm while the warmth of his skin continued coursing against her fingers. She rubbed her palm against her pant leg, needing to concentrate but being dragged away by the sensation.

“Let’s get busy,” she said, her voice too loud. She strode toward the entrance. “There’s a room here in front. I think this
will work fine for an office.” She led him along, pointing to the area for a small lobby, a room for visitors to get to know a dog before adoption and a smaller room for ailing dogs.

As they walked, Randy darted toward them, his shyness less obvious. “What can I measure?”

“We’re going to measure spaces for pens for the dogs.” Molly pointed to the areas. “They’ll be on both sides with a hallway down the middle.”

Randy’s eyes widened. “All the way to the back? That’s a lot of dogs.”

“Not all the way. We need a space for the dogs to play and another area for my partner’s doggie day-care area.”

“What’s that?” Randy pulled out a stretch of tape and let it smack into the housing.

“A place people bring dogs when they work or go on vacation and can’t be home with them. Like a child-care service.”

Brent slipped behind her and rested his palms on her shoulders.

He surprised her. The sensation rolled down her chest and weakened her knees. He’d never touched her like that, though she’d longed for it to happen.

Brent drew in a lengthy breath. “Molly wants to have a shelter for dogs who don’t have a home.”

Randy’s head lifted, and a frown wrinkled his smooth brow. “Like me.”

Molly’s chest tightened, and she grappled for a quick response. “Not really.” Her fingers rolled into a fist, and she forced them apart. “You have family who loves you. These dogs have no one.”

The boy shifted his gaze to Brent as silence filled the room. Molly closed her eyes, praying Brent would validate what she’d said. Brent’s hands dropped from her shoulders, and she lifted her lids, hoping he would do the right thing.

Brent reached out and tousled Randy’s hair. “We’re buddies, aren’t we?”

The boy tilted his head upward to look into Brent’s face, then nodded. He didn’t seem to understand what was going on.

“Do you like dogs, Randy?” Molly asked.

He shrugged. “I’ve never had one.”

“Really?” His response shouldn’t have surprised Molly, but it had. “Every boy should own a dog.” She noticed Brent’s cheek tick again. “I have a program at the Montgomery Middle School called Teacher’s Pet. My students help me train dogs to be obedient.”

Randy’s face brightened. “Really? Could I take your class?”

“You don’t attend Montgomery Middle School, and it’s for their students.” She waved her hand. “But school’s out in another week, and maybe we could work something out with your Uncle Brent.”

He pivoted toward Brent like a child hearing the ice-cream man. “Could we?”

Brent winced, but he gave a slow nod. “We’ll need to talk about it.”

He shifted his focus to Molly, his eyes flashing a hidden message that she knew had to do with getting a dog. Her shoulders sank, hearing the sound in Brent’s voice. She’d thought they’d made an agreement.

The boy’s expression sank to a scowl. “Talk about what?”

Randy’s question echoed Molly’s.

“We would need a dog. You can’t train a dog without owning one.” Brent tilted his head, his eyes piercing his nephew’s. “That means someone has to take care of it.”

“I’ll take care of him. I’ll feed him and—”

“Clean the yard?” Brent’s stern voice subsided. “That’s the hard part.”

Randy’s nose wrinkled. “You mean…”

“Your uncle means clean up after the dog. It’s not fun, but it’s part of the responsibility of owning a pet and enjoying its company.”

He thought a minute. “I can do that.”

The boy’s plaintive tone and Brent’s earlier comment heightened Molly’s awareness. Little by little she’d begun to piece Brent’s problem together. As a boy, he’d made promises to his father he didn’t keep, and the dog vanished. Ran away, Morris had told her. She wanted to know the full story.

Brent placed his hand on Randy’s shoulder and looked into his eyes. “You promise?”

“I promise,” Randy said. “Can we get a dog today?”

Brent drew back. “We have a job to do right now. Let’s get busy.”

“Let’s measure.” Randy tugged out the tape and handed Brent the end. “Where should we measure?”

Molly tried to calm her racing thoughts and pointed to the far wall. “How wide is this place? We need to know that first. Then we can decide about the size of the dogs’ pens.”

As Brent and Randy measured, Molly moved the puzzle pieces around her mind. Brent’s problem had to do with caring for his pet, but it was more than that. It had to do with love and rejection, and she saw the same issues mirrored in Randy. She knew enough psychology to know the Runyan family had some serious relationship problems, but that wasn’t hers to resolve. She’d come into his life for a dog shelter, and if she wanted to keep her dream alive, she needed to keep it that way.

Brent checked his watch and wiped his palms against his shirtsleeves. As soon as he thought about the appointment Molly had set with him, he’d broken into a sweat. He’d blamed his reaction on her shelter proposal, but he knew better. His efficient business tactics and shrewd dealings had died a silent death when it came to Molly. The woman had crept into his chest and was burrowing into his heart. Though he’d been in love once—he’d thought it was love—no other woman had affected him like Molly. She filled his mind and
his dreams. He’d awaken at night, his heart palpitating like a man lost in a forest, a man fearing being eaten alive, yet loving the adventure.

He lowered his head in his hands, trying to deal with the new sensations that continued to weave through his chest.

“Headache?”

His head shot up, facing his fear head-on. “Molly. You’re early.”

“I took a half day off. I wanted to give the proposal a final edit.” She strode across the room and dropped the folder on his desk. “I hope you think it’s enough information for your board.”

He rubbed his temples again, trying to get his mind on the proposal and not on the woman standing nearby.

“You do have a headache.”

“I’m okay, Molly. Don’t worry.” He managed to get the words to leave his lips. “You said you needed a week, and here you are in four days.”

A lighthearted tone filled her voice. “I had a proposal organized already. I just needed to tweak it. But before we talk, you should read it first,” she said.

Brent saw no point trying to convince her. Molly didn’t understand the word
no
. He’d watched her in action when it came to the building. Her determination and perseverance could win a blue ribbon at the fair. He opened the bound folder, paging through her purpose and mission statement, statistics on homeless dogs, the shelter’s short- and long-range goals and plans, Teacher’s Pet goals, cooperative organizations, support provided by the Oakland Pet Fund Organization, finances, funding and more.

“What do you think?” she asked.

He straightened his back and leaned forward. “I need to concentrate on this. Why not let me read it by myself, and if I find any problems, I’ll let you know.”

“I didn’t mean to push you. I realize you’re not feeling well.”

“I’m fine. I just need—”

“To get a dog.”

“Dog?” His neck tensed again. “Yes, I need to do that. Randy hasn’t stopped asking.”

“Then why not today?”

Like a guilty kid, he squirmed in the chair. “Because I’m working, and Randy’s in school.”

She glanced at her watch. “He’ll be out shortly. It’s nearly three.”

Air drained from his lungs. “I doubt if they’re open tonight.”

“They’re open until seven on Wednesday. Today’s Wednesday.” The corner of her mouth lifted into a coy smile. “What do you say?”

Brent swiveled his head, amazed at her maneuvering. “Cornered.”

She leaped from the edge of the desk. “Cornered? I thought I was being helpful.”

She faked a pouty expression so flirtatious that it made his head spin. He’d never noticed Molly flirting before, and he couldn’t win with that behavior. He had a hard time not buckling under to her determination. “I’ll have to talk with Randy.”

“Should I meet you there?”

Talking with Randy hadn’t swayed her determination. She assumed Randy would be eager, and she assumed right. A dog. He pressed his fingers against his temple again.

“How about six? I’ll meet you at the Humane Society.”