Chapter 21 #3
On the way out, Cassidy, looked up, and said, “Thank you, Dr. Steele.” Apparently, she’d decided he was acceptable. He’d take it.
* * *
A week later, Dillon stood on Bonnie Watson’s front porch with Sparky in his arms and Gray dropping his keys for the second time.
“You okay there, buddy?”
Gray grinned crookedly. “Yeah. Come on in. Bonnie should bring the kids home from school in a few minutes.”
The kitchen was small and yellow and lived-in. Drawings were stuck on the fridge with magnets—one of a fire engine, one of a stick-figure family with four people holding hands that gave Dillon a brief pang of envy.
Dillon set Sparky on the floor, and the pup plopped down to chew his own foot.
He opened his mouth to tell Gray how to transition from wet to dry dog food, but his friend reached into his jacket pocket and produced a small velvet ring box, and no sound came out of Dillon’s mouth.
The ring inside the box was a sparkling solitaire diamond, clear and blue-white, in a setting so simple and delicate it almost wasn’t there. Knowing Gray, he’d exhaustively researched diamonds and this one was the best there was.
“When are you planning to pop the question?”
Gray ran his hand through his hair. “I can’t find the right time.
Either I’m coming home filthy from the fire station or she’s exhausted from work.
A restaurant is too public. Her parents’ anniversary was last week but it felt like I’d be hijacking somebody else’s day.
I keep waiting for the perfect moment, but it’s not coming. ”
“Do you trust her to say yes?” Dillon asked.
“I do.”
“Then it won’t matter when or where or how you do it. All that’ll matter to her is you asked.”
“I was thinking about tying the ring around Sparky’s neck,” Gray admitted, producing a length of red satin ribbon from the same pocket. “Is that too hokey?”
“You could have a skydiving clown deliver or put it on her toothbrush in the bathroom, and she’d love it.”
Gray nodded abruptly in decision. Dillon held the puppy while Gray Tied the ring to the ribbon and gently tied it around Sparky’s fuzzy neck. The ring vanished into the Golden Retriever’s fluff.
Sparky commenced trying to reach the bow to chew it, so Dillon sacrificed his finger to the dog’s sharp puppy teeth to keep it from losing the expensive ring.
“What if she says no?” Gray blurted in an uncharacteristic burst of nerves.
“She won’t say no.”
“How do you know?”
“Because at the kennel I saw how she looks at you. She already said yes. She’s just waiting for you to catch up.”
“Stay till they get here,” Gray said. “I want a wingman in case I forget how to talk.”
“I’ll stay, but because somebody has to make sure this scamp doesn’t eat your engagement ring.”
Gray paced. Dillon sat on the floor beside the dog and transitioned Sparky to chewing on a dishrag when his finger got sore.
Gray asked abruptly, “You ever think about it?”
“About what?”
“Family.”
Dillon kept his eyes on the puppy. “Used to.”
“What happened?”
“Had a wife. She told me on her way out the door that I was a workaholic with nothing left over for a woman.” He shrugged. “Can’t blame her. A country vet’s schedule—well, I have no schedule.”
“Some women would put up with that.”
He sent Gray a small, sad smile. “I’ll let you know if I find one.”
Thankfully, Bonnie’s car pulled into the driveway just then, distracting Gray.
“Showtime.” Gray ran his hands through his hair. “How do I look?”
“Like a man about to commit a federal crime.”
“Helpful, Dillon. Real helpful.”
The kids hit the porch like artillery rounds demanding to know if the puppy was here. Bonnie came in behind them, putting her keys on the hook by the door and saying hello to him with a smile.
Cassidy reached the dog first. She dropped to her knees and scooped up Sparky. Her hands stopped, mid-stroke, on the puppy’s chest. Her eyes went wide and her gaze snapped to Gray, then to her mother.
“Mom,” Cassidy said urgently. She bodily shoved the puppy into Bonnie’s arms.
“Cassidy, what’s wrong? Dillon is he sick—”
She felt it, too. Looked down. Saw the glint at Sparky’s throat, small and clear and sparkly in a sea of golden fur.
She froze.
“Why’s there a string on him?” Noah said, looking up at the puppy.
Cassidy, in a voice that contained whole constellations: “It’s a ribbon, Noah.”
Bonnie looked up at Gray, who stood frozen by the sink. He didn’t take a knee. Didn’t launch into a speech. Poor guy didn’t seem to remember his own name.
“Bonnie,” Gray managed to choke out.
She made a sound. It wasn’t a yes. It wasn’t crying. It was the sound of joy a woman made when something she’d been holding tight inside her for weeks let go all at once.
She crossed the kitchen with the puppy in her arms, the ring still tied to Sparky’s neck, and kissed Gray. Sparky wriggled between them, deeply put-upon. Bonnie was laughing and crying at the same time. So was Cassidy, which Dillon wouldn’t have believed if he hadn’t been watching it happen.
Noah, finally pieced it together. “WAIT. Are you guys getting MARRIED? Is Gray gonna be our DAD?”
Cassidy, mopping at her tears said, “Yes, Noah. Catch up.”
The four of them had a big group hug. Sparky, in the middle, decided that being squished among a bunch of happy humans was okay after all and commencing licking every face he could reach.
Dillon quietly let himself out the back door. Through the kitchen window, a family and a puppy hugging in the yellow kitchen, looking like a Norman Rockwell painting of happiness and home.
He walked to his truck. Got in. Sat with his hands on the wheel.
You have nothing left inside you for taking care of a woman, Dillon. Every minute you have, you give to your animals. There’s no room left for me.
Lexi’s voice. Always Lexi’s voice. Undimmed by years. The truth she’d spoken had sunk into his bones. Fused to him. Become the core of who he was. And today, it ached inside him. This wasn’t envy. He wasn’t a small enough man for envy.
It was painful recognition that some men got to have families, and some men didn’t, and he’d long since accepted which one he was. He’d always pictured himself with a family of his own one day. Kids, animals, a wife who’d be his partner in life.
But it wasn’t in the cards for him. He’d chosen the work. The work had chosen him back. He could be a vet, or he could be a family man, and he’d picked.
He started his truck and backed down the driveway. He had a limping ranch horse to look at before he called it a day. Then home and a sandwich at the sink. Maybe he’d tear out the carpet from the bedroom he was turning into an office. Then bed and up again at five.
It was a productive life. A satisfying life. It was the life he had.
It just wasn’t the life he saw through Bonnie’s kitchen window.
He headed out of Cobbler Cove and turned the radio up.
Thanks for spending a few hours with me in Cobbler Cove!