Chapter 5 #3
Ford had to give Laylee credit for trying, yet every single day there was a new catastrophe. Today he’d deliberately arrived home before Skye, only to find Laylee on her knees scrubbing a corner of the kitchen while casting worried looks at the dogs.
Poor Skye. She’d arrived home shortly after, and it took only a single look to know she wasn’t getting enough sleep.
He’d offered to clean up, but both women had suggested he take the dogs back to his house while they got things in order. Not how he’d wanted to spend the evening, but he’d reluctantly agreed.
Later, they’d eaten dinner on his back porch and of course, that was fine. As long as he and Skye were around, the dogs behaved. Unfortunately, they both had to work.
Over the next few days, Skye settled on a name for her dog: Tank. As in a water tank, since he sprinkled often. Ford thought the name worked because the runt considered himself as invincible as a tank.
She took a day off work to help get the dogs settled, and reported that they were angels.
The next day, with Skye back at work, Ford made a point of taking off early. He got home, parked, and jogged to Skye’s house, hoping Laylee would have a good report.
Instead, he found her sitting on the couch near tears, beautifully rumpled. Her hair, currently in a high, messy bun, listed to one side. She wore no makeup, and her usually stylish clothes had been replaced with well-worn yoga pants and an oversized Aerosmith T-shirt.
All around her, the house was a wreck. Tank chewed on a flip-flop, and Maybelline was sprawled out a good distance away, her head on her front paws, her expression glum. That was, until she saw him.
Ford took it all in with one sweeping glance and decided Maybelline was the top priority. Kneeling down, he opened his arms and the dog shot forward with undiluted glee.
Laughing, he sat against the wall so she couldn’t knock him over. She snuffled his face and neck, howled with happiness, and finally, after wearing herself out, flopped onto her back with her head in his lap, staring up at him adoringly.
Ford rearranged himself to better accommodate her, accepting the fact that Laylee, clearly, wasn’t cut out for puppy sitting. Thank God he’d gotten home early, or Maybelline would still be miserable. He couldn’t bear it.
Tank, also excited, yapped around him, the footwear forgotten. He scooped up the rascal and settled him next to Maybelline’s neck. “You guys missed me, huh?”
Happy barking and wiggling gave him all the answer he needed.
“I’m sorry,” Laylee said. “I know I suck, but your dog hates me.”
Oh, no. He wouldn’t let her put the blame on Maybelline. “She doesn’t hate anyone.” He kissed her furry head to reassure her.
“You saw how she was looking at me.”
Yes, and he’d seen where Laylee was sitting—well apart from the dogs. Was that what Maybelline had to put up with every day? “Who made all the mess?” He was guessing Tank.
“Tank is so sweet part of the time, but the rest of the time he’s a Tasmanian devil on a rampage.”
Ford could guess the problem. Laylee couldn’t exclusively pay attention to Tank, because that always drew Maybelline closer. Left to his own devices, Tank got into mischief. Now Ford had to decide what to do about it. They couldn’t continue like this. The dogs, and Laylee, were miserable.
She heaved a sigh. “Maybelline dumped in the kitchen again.”
Already knowing the answer, he asked, “Did you take her for a walk?”
She eyed him as if he was nuts. “Sorry, but I’m not attempting to walk that beast.”
Maybelline gave her patented low grumble, as if insulted.
“Oh my God, you see?” Yanking her feet up onto the couch as if to protect them, she pointed at the dog. “That’s what she does. She growls at me.”
He was deciding how to answer when Skye walked in. She glanced around, much as he had, then pinned a smile on her face. “Hey, everyone.” The dogs abandoned Ford and raced to Skye.
Gratified, he watched her react much as he had. She tossed aside her purse with a laugh and knelt down. Maybelline did knock her over, but Skye loved it. From her back, she hugged Maybelline while Tank licked her face.
Laylee, he noticed, looked wretched, and as she spoke, she sounded heartbroken, too. “Why do they love you guys so much, but hate me?”
Ford got to his feet. “You just need to give them a chance.” He leaned over Skye and managed to sneak a kiss between Tank and Maybelline’s snuffles.
“The big one growls at me all the time.”
Skye laughed. “She’s not growling, silly. She’s murmuring, probably in protest at your attitude.” Skye sat up, and Maybelline immediately settled beside her, luxuriating in the strokes and hugs she received. “She won’t bite, you know. She’s the gentlest dog ever.”
Unconvinced, Laylee crept over to stand behind Ford, using him as a shield.
Maybelline looked at her and murmured.
“She’s still growling!”
Ford tried, unsuccessfully, to get Laylee out from behind his back. “That’s not growling. Look.” He stepped away and put his hand in front of Maybelline. She nudged it for a pet. “She just wants attention.”
“She would bite me.”
Barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Ford decided to prove his point. “Never.” He put his hand in Maybelline’s mouth—and the worst he got was slobber. “Come here. Let me show you.”
She rapidly backed up. “No way.”
Going for a different approach, Ford straightened and looked her in the eyes. “I’ll tell everyone your sister is braver than you.”
Laylee snorted. “Get real. Everyone already knows that. Nothing shakes Skye.”
Okay, obviously that tactic wouldn’t work. It didn’t help that Maybelline continued to stare at Laylee. He saw it as a longing to be her friend. Laylee, however, couldn’t seem to get past her fear.
Tank walked over to her, and Laylee picked him up. “At least this one doesn’t growl at me.”
“Look at Maybelline’s eyes,” he encouraged. Her eyes were soulful, full of worry and hope, and a desperate need to be loved. She saw how Laylee held the littler dog and badly wanted to take part.
Inhaling a shaky breath, Laylee glanced at Maybelline—then away, her discomfort palpable.
Ford’s heart broke a little. How many people had reacted that same way to poor Maybelline? She couldn’t help her appearance, and to him it didn’t matter.
To him, she was beautiful.
Seeing his disappointment, tears welled in Laylee’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Skye nodded her understanding. “It’s okay, Laylee. I’ll figure out something else. You don’t need to watch Maybelline anymore.”
Those words, letting her off the hook, only seemed to upset Laylee more. Ford could tell she wanted to be there for her sister. But as she’d said, she wasn’t as strong or courageous as Skye. Not as compassionate or intuitive either.
“I have dinner ready, if you’re hungry.”
That was Laylee’s way of trying to make up for the things she couldn’t do. Ford said, “In a bit.” For now, he just wanted to give the dogs the attention they needed.
“Okay, well, I’ll get you both a drink, then.” Fleeing into the kitchen, maybe to cry a little, Laylee disappeared with Tank.
Ford sat on the chair behind Skye. In a low whisper so Laylee wouldn’t hear, he said, “You see. Massive differences between you two.” He brushed his nose against her hair, breathing in her scent and grateful to have her in his life, sharing his love of their dogs. “I saw those differences right off.”
Tipping her head back, she accepted the soft, upside down kiss he gave her. With her hand to his jaw, she promised, “We will figure this out. We’re in this together—for both dogs. They’ll get the love and attention they deserve.”
Every day, in a new and different way, Skye showed him how special she was. He was still smiling at her when a brisk knock sounded on the door. Maybelline lifted her big head, alert but not alarmed.
Laylee, a little red eyed, stepped back into the room. “Who—”
She didn’t get out another word before Tank launched himself from her arms. Skye gasped, Ford made a wild grab but missed, and Tank hit the floor like a furry cannonball. He rolled, shot back to his feet, and prepared to demolish whoever came through the door.
Hand to her heart, Laylee said, “Ohmigod, I’m so sorry!”
Of course, Skye rallied. “It’s okay,” she said a little too fast, still shaken. “He’s okay. I’m okay. We’re all okay.”
Maybelline got up and snuffled close to Tank. Oddly enough, that calmed the little dog, at least enough that Ford could take a breath.
Bedlam, he decided. It was all bedlam instead of the paradise he’d imagined.
But looking at Skye, composed instead of overwhelmed, and her sis, devastated at her perceived shortcomings, and the two dogs, so strongly bonded, he knew he’d rather be in bedlam here, with Skye and her sister and the two best dogs in the world, than back in his peaceful single lifestyle.
He managed a smile. “Skye, can you restrain Tank?” She leaned forward enough to catch the rascal and cradle him protectively in her arms. “Laylee, calm down. No harm done.” Laylee drew in a slow breath, but it was a shuddery sound, still very close to a sob.
“Maybelline, good girl.” He gave her ear a gentle rub and, with everyone as calm as he could manage in the moment, opened the door.
Knox stood there with Paul, a guy Ford had met several times. “Hey, what’s up?”
Knox didn’t reply. He stared beyond Ford into the house, and when Ford turned, he saw nearly the same expression on Laylee’s face. Huh. Their connection was so electric, static danced in the air.
Paul grinned. “He’s gone into a stupor.”
“Seems so.” Ford opened the door wider. “Come on in, Paul, before the dogs get out. See if you can drag Knox along.”
Suddenly Laylee gasped, put a hand to her falling hair, and went bright red. “You didn’t say we’d have company!”
“It’s not company,” Ford reasoned. “It’s just Knox and Paul.”
“That’s the definition of company!” Pivoting sharply, she went down the hall at a fast clip. In a more moderate tone, she said, “I’ll be right back.”