Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Quinton
Melodie gazed up at me. “Papa’s going to save a life?”
“That’s the plan.” I tried to balance my coffee mug as well as Lucky’s leash while keeping a close eye on the kids. “So I was thinking you might want to come to my house. We can bake cookies.”
“Yay!” Trevor hopped up and down on the spot.
Jameson arrived, Bibi on a leash.
Ben was just behind him.
“Would you like a hand?” Jameson reached for my mug.
“Oh, that would be great. I don’t know how parents manage.” I eyed the three creatures I was now responsible for.
“You know how to do car seats?” Ben chuckled.
“Sure. I mean, how hard can it be?”
He and Isaac exchanged a look I didn’t dare try to interpret.
“Why don’t we join you?” He gestured toward the parking lot.
“Yay, cookies!” Melodie waved her hands and appeared just as excited as Trevor.
Should they not be worried about the fact their father left them with a virtual stranger? Should I not be panicked that I’m in charge? I’d certainly never done this before.
Still, Jameson took charge of getting Lucky into his crate while Ben helped me buckle each child into their car seat.
I watched carefully in case I needed to replicate the actions.
Of course, Mama would know how to do this as well.
Although, frankly, I doubted things were this complicated when I’d been young.
I hopped into the driver’s seat and moved the seat way up. Damn Leo with his damn long legs. Isaac handed me both mugs. “Do you need to call your mother?”
“Oh, dear.” Another thing that hadn’t occurred to me.
Ben rolled his eyes. “Quinton’s mom will roll with it.”
“True.” Jameson met my gaze. “Save me an egg roll.”
“You all should come to my St. Patrick’s Day party.
On the eighteenth. Eight o’clock. Wear green.
” I gazed into the rearview mirror and met the stares of two clearly curious children.
“And thanks.” I gazed at my friends. I pretty much considered everyone a friend.
A stranger was just someone who hadn’t become a friend yet.
“Good luck.” Isaac pushed my door shut. All three men stood back and waved as I drove away.
“I like Buddy.” Trevor’s smile carried in his voice as I checked both ways before turning onto the road.
“He seems like a very nice dog.”
“Bibi’s fun.” Melodie’s contribution.
“Yes, she seems to be. She wasn’t scared of Lucky.” I stopped at the intersection.
Lucky woofed.
Melodie giggled.
Yeah, I can do this. The intersection was clear, so I crossed it.
Our house was another three blocks away.
Logically, I understood nothing bad was going to happen—but that didn’t keep me from white-knuckling it all the way home.
How do parents do this? With such precious cargo?
Well, they couldn’t leave the kids at home for eighteen years, so obviously they managed.
I pulled into my driveway. We lived in a nice two-story house with three bedrooms, a den, and a full in-law suite in the basement where Mama lived.
I hated that, but she insisted she liked having the small space to herself.
I argued this was her house, so she should be able to live in the upper part.
In a moment of melancholy, she said she associated it too much with my father.
That the basement suited her because she didn’t see memories of him at every turn.
Plus, she could come upstairs whenever she wanted and she could keep me close.
Speaking of Mama… She opened the front door and poked her head out. She caught sight of me and cocked her head.
I got out of the SUV.
“New ride?” She grinned. “I liked the old one, but this silver color suits you.”
“I’m not giving up my burgundy baby for anything.” No way was I picking a boring color. If I could’ve gotten neon pink, I totally would’ve done that. “I, uh…we have guests.”
“Let me put on my shoes.” She disappeared into the house.
I opened Melodie’s door.
“I can help with Trevor.” She reached across and deftly unclipped her brother.
He scrambled out of his seat and tried the door.
Child locks.
Thank God.
“Who do we have here?” Mama poked her head into the SUV.
“I’m Melodie Rodgers.” The young girl beamed.
“Trevor. Want out.” He was trying to push past his sister.
“One at a time.” Because I was the adult and had to maintain some semblance of control.
On cue, Lucky woofed.
Mama laughed. “Full house?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Dr. Rodgers?”
“Emergency.”
“Ah. Well, I was about to make some soup and maybe bake some more cookies.”
Trevor stopped fidgeting. “Really?”
“This is my mother, Mrs. Zhang She bakes the cookies I bring.”
“You can call me NaiNai.” She gave me that look.
I wasn’t about to argue. Made things simpler for me.
“Okay, NaiNai.” Melodie undid her straps and hopped down.
Trevor scrambled after her. “Cookies!”
Mama met my gaze. “You get the dog. I assume it sheds?”
“Uh… I have no idea.”
“No worries. It’s your house, and you get to clean it.” She grinned, snagged a hand of each child, and headed inside.
I moved to the back hatch and raised it.
Lucky gazed at me balefully.
“Are you going to shed all over my house?”
He woofed.
Despite myself, I smiled. Most of the flooring was laminate with just a few throw rugs. Everything could be vacuumed. “All right, mutt. With me.” I opened his crate, attached his leash, then guided him to jump down. I closed all the doors and engaged the alarm.
Lucky pulled me over to my mother’s rosebush and peed on it.
“Oh, you did not just do that.”
He offered me an unrepentant grin.
“Well, other dogs have peed there as well and the darn thing survived—so I suppose I won’t have to kill you.”
We took two steps before he squatted.
In horror, I watched him take a massive dump on my front lawn. “You did not just do that! I don’t have a poop bag!” I assumed they were still in Leo’s pocket.
“Can I help you out?” A middle-aged tanned-skin man stood watching me flap my hands. His dog—a mix of some kind—watched with equal interest.
“Do you happen to have a baggie? This isn’t my dog, and I don’t know if I have a plastic one in the house.”
The man grinned. “Sure.” He dug into his pocket and procured a baggie that had already been opened. “She poops a lot, and it’s frustrating trying to open the baggies—especially when it’s cold. So I keep several open ones in my pocket. Makes things go smoother.”
I took the baggie. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am. Uh, I’m Quinton.” I offered my brightest smile.
“Zahir. This is Daphne.”
I arched an eyebrow.
“Rescue. She came with the name. Not that I mind it, but I might’ve chosen something Indian.” He eyed his dog with affection. “She’s a good dog.”
Lucky, having finished his dump, now moved to meet Daphne. “He’s a good dog.”
“Just not your dog.” Zahir smiled. “All good. She might be small, but she’s mighty.”
“How old?”
“The shelter said about eight. She was found wandering in downtown Mission. No chip or tattoo. No one claimed her. My previous dog had just passed. Felt like this was meant to be.” He radiated pure joy with his brilliant smile and straight, white teeth.
Daphne, for her part, appeared quite enamored with Lucky. They continued to sniff and circle.
Zahir kept having to adjust the leashes so they didn’t tangle. “Why don’t you hand me Lucky’s? Then I can keep them organized and you can scoop.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer the other way around?” I eyed Lucky’s offerings and winced.
Zahir chuckled. “Uh, no. You seem like a very nice man, but I’m not getting anywhere near your dog’s poop.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Squeamish?”
“I’m a nurse who covers shifts in the emergency room.” I puffed out my chest. “I’ve seen it all.”
“Oh.” He shoved Daphne’s leash into my hands, dug a poop bag out of his pocket, and headed straight for Lucky’s shit.
“You don’t have to—"
“You deal with human crap all the time.” Zahir niftily had everything done, and the bag tied in no time. “I have the utmost respect for nurses.” He held the bag. “Garbage?”
“In the garage. But my remote is on the other keyring. I’ll have to take it through the house.”
Zahir waved me off. “There’s a bin in the park down the street. By the time we get there, Daphne will have done her business as well. I can take care of all of it.”
“But I can’t ask you to scoop and then dispose of Lucky’s, uh…” I gestured.
“Shit?” He grinned. But it didn’t reach his eyes.
I’d never wanted more in my life than to ask what had happened to this man. Why he had such reverence for nurses. Why he carried a sadness that he mostly kept hidden by a broad smile.
I wouldn’t, though. Not my place. Instead, I handed Daphne’s leash back. “Thank you. Truly.” He dug into his pocket and handed me two more bags. “Just in case.”
“Don’t you need them?”
His smile didn’t falter. “I always carry extras. You never know when you might run into someone in need.”
“Like me.”
“Yep. Like you.” He gestured to Lucky. “Might I see you around? The park’s a lovely spot. Oh, you know about the dog run in Centennial Park, right?”
“We just came from there. Uh, I don’t know if Lucky will be visiting again. But hey, you’re welcome anytime. In fact, why don’t you come to my St. Patrick’s Day party next Friday night?”
“Oh, I couldn’t—”
“Seriously, it’s going to be a blast. Lots of single people or you can bring a significant other if you have one—”
“Widower.”
Ouch. Okay, so that explained the sadness that sometimes permeated. “I’m sorry. Which sounds so lame, but—”
“Brain cancer. A year ago. Our dog died the next week. I think of a broken heart. When the dust settled, I went down to the shelter and Daphne had become available that day. She slotted into my life and I’ve tried to move on. Some days are easier than others, you know?”
Slowly, I nodded. “My dad’s been gone a few years, but it’s still hard on Mom.”
“And on you.”
I hesitated. I rarely acknowledged the grief because I was always so worried about Mama. “Yes, I guess.”