Chapter 7 #2
“Hey,” Tate leans against my cubby on his way out of the dressing room. “You’ve been quiet lately. I’m beginning to think you have laryngitis because we all know it’s impossible for you to keep your mouth shut.”
I shrug. I have nothing to say because I’m not sure what the hell I’m doing. I only have my last ditch move left tomorrow. If my visit to the shelter falls flat I might need to let her go. The idea causes a stitch in my gut and I grimace.
“Spill it, Sean. You need a clear mind for the next game—we need the win to get home field in the playoffs.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I’m about to blow him off when my phone rings. That familiar quickening of my pulse until I check the caller, makes it hard for me to stay cool, but I do. It’s only the new dog walker calling. I put the phone to my ear.
“What’s up?”
Tate stands there watching me while I talk.
“I’m so sorry Mr. Patrick—” I can hear her tears. Her panicked voice sends a shiver through me.
“Take a breath Betsy. Slow down and tell me what’s happened.” I sound calm, but my heart hammers like a motherfucker until she tells me she’s lost my puppy.
Taking a deep unsteady breath, relief shudders through me. Lost is okay. I can deal with that. She didn’t say Dasher’s been hit by a truck. The less than worst case scenario soothes me back to normal. Tate frowns at me while I calm Betsy.
She says, “I reported her missing to animal control and I’m out scouring the neighborhood but—” A new bout of tears and a hiccup interrupts her. I reassure her that I’m not mad because the girl is already distraught enough without me piling on.
“I’m confident that we’ll find Dasher. I’m on my way home now.” She continues sobbing and I contemplate paying her a bonus just to stop the sobs because it’s killing me, when I get another call.
The other call is Ronnie. I tell Betsy to hang on and switch calls.
“Ronnie—”
“Sean, it’s Jimmy. He’s missing and I don’t know who else to call. He was missing Dasher and I thought—”
“Jimmy’s not at my house,” I say. “And neither is Dasher.” My mind spins to the truth that if we find one, we’ll find the other. But where?
Tate’s frown deepens as he watches and listens. He looks as tense as I feel.
“Oh. I’m sorry,” Ronnie says. “Do you think Dasher and Jimmy are together?”
“Yes, I do. Tell me what happened.” I keep my voice steady though my heart and head pound away like I’m about to seize up with the adrenaline overload.
“I wasn’t out front when the bus let him off today at the shelter.
” Self-recrimination strangles her voice, but she holds it together.
She’s made of stronger stuff than Betsy the substitute dog sitter.
No shit. “But Jimmy knows he’s supposed to come right inside.
I was having a cut bandaged when I heard the bus and—”
“I get the picture. I’ll be right over.” Throwing my jacket on, I slip my phone in the pocket and before Tate can ask me what’s going on, I tell him.
“I need to go–family emergency.”
It’s not a lie technically. Dasher is family. Though Jimmy’s not my family emergency, him being missing is most definitely a family emergency. And somehow, I do feel panic and concern as if he’s family.
“I can see that. I hope you find Dasher and… whatever else you’re looking for.” Tate follows me. “If you need any help—or anything. Say the word, bro.” He thuds me on the back as I push on the door and rush to my SUV.
I race to the shelter, knowing I need to calm my crazy emotions, be the strong calm one because it’s her kid we’re talking about.
Honestly, I’d be far more worried about Jimmy if Dasher wasn’t with him than I am now.
But somehow the idea that they’re together calms me and I’m convinced that they found each other somewhere between my house and the shelter.
As soon as I stop the car at the curb, Ronnie rushes from the front door of the shelter and jumps in my car. I won’t lie. It feels good that she trusts me, that I can help her and she’s letting me, relying on me.
“Let’s go to your house first to check if he’s there.”
“Okay, but I’m taking it slow in case we see him on the way.
I know he’s with Dasher.” I reach over and hold her hand.
She latches on, hard and I drive in the direction of my house.
It’s only a fifteen-minute drive, even going slow, but it would be a long damn walk for a six-year-old kid even if he knew the way.
I don’t share my concerns with Ronnie. She sits shivering and clasping my hand in a death grip, staring out the window searching, silent and thank god, dry-eyed.
She’s holding it together, watching for Jimmy and not hysterical though she’d have every right to be.
My already inflated opinion of her goes up another notch.
Finally I swing the car into my driveway and come to an abrupt halt, falling a hair short of leaving a layer of tires on the stone paved driveway. My mason would wave his fists at me. Ronnie flings open the door and jumps out at a run, shouting.
“Jimmy? Are you here? Jimmy!”
I run to catch up with her and damn if she isn’t fast, getting to the back yard and running for the door to the mudroom where she stops short. I get there just as she shrieks his name, only this time the anxiety is replaced with a whoosh of relieved joy as she bends to hug her little boy.
Meanwhile Dasher yips and jumps, bounding toward me and I lift her into my arms, hugging her close when I realize she’s shaking she’s so freezing cold.
“Are you alright?” Ronnie says to Jimmy as she holds him, squatting down. I reach over her and unlock the back door. “You’re so freezing, you poor thing.” She kisses his head and rubs his arms and back.
“Let’s go inside,” I say.
Once we get inside and I suggest hot coco, Ronnie let’s Jimmy out of her arms. The transformation is instant and almost comical the way it’s so complete, from joyous relief to exasperation.
“What do you think you were doing young man? Coming here all this way without me? You know you’re supposed to come straight inside the shelter when you get off the bus. You scared me so hard, my heart may never be the same.”
Jimmy stares up at her, wide-eyed and on the verge of tears.
“Mommy you have to be the same.” He hugs her and she relents, hugging him back into her chest again.
“What happened, sport? Why did you come all the way here?” I ask.
He looks up at me over his mother’s shoulder and smiles.
“Dasher was waiting for me when I got off the bus and I went to her and then she ran.”
“So you followed her?”
He nods and squirms away from his mother. “Can we have hot coco now?”
She rolls her eyes and grins. Then she gives me a questioning look.
“Please. My kitchen is your kitchen.” I wave a hand and step out of her way. But not far enough because I smell that special scent of hers and feel her warmth as she slides by me. She’s wearing a sweater today, but still no bra and I have to concentrate on not drooling.
I turn back to Jimmy who’s on the floor with Dasher again. “Didn’t you get tired?”
He nods. “I had to follow Dasher all the way here and it was a long way. I didn’t want to lose her. Then when I got here I knew it’s your house. We played while we waited for you but then I got cold.”
“You’re a good boy, Jimmy. Thank you for finding Dasher for me.” I turn to Ronnie as she puts three cups of hot coco on the island counter for us.
“Come and drink some hot coco and warm up, honey,” she says to Jimmy. I wish she were talking to me.
“Speaking of finding Dasher, I need to call my dog walker before she sinks into a depression.”
“Oh no—that’s right. I need to call Garino—I mean Annamarie—to let her know Jimmy’s alright.” She punches my arm. “I can’t believe I called her Garino. You’re a bad influence on me.”
I grin. “You can use the house phone,” I say, watching her jewel blue eyes glitter with lighthearted mischief now that the scare is over. Now that we’re back in my kitchen again, drinking hot cocoa.
She sashays to the phone and I hold myself still against the temptation to follow her, to press up against her and hug her in my arms. Instead, I slip my phone from my pocket and dial up my soon to be ex-dog walker.
But I’ll let her down easy with a bonus because it’s not all her fault that Dasher missed Jimmy and Ronnie and the shelter.
“We found Dasher,” I say, watching Jimmy drink his hot cocoa, leaving a chocolate moustache across the top of his mouth.
“You’re off the hook for replacing my dog.
” I should have known better than to joke with Betsy because her voice immediately escalates to a high pitched, almost dog-whistle levels.
“I’m joking. Calm down. My regular pet sitter is back…
from vacation. I’ll let you know if I need a dog walker again in the future. ”
With our calls finished, we all sit in the great room with our hot chocolates and I turn on the gas fireplace and the TV. The cartoon version of The Grinch Who Stole Christmas is on.
“This is my favorite,” I say.
“Mine too,” Jimmy says, settling on the floor with Dasher.
I sit on the couch next to Ronnie, taking a chance that she won’t jump up and run. Instead she turns to me with one of those I adore you looks that makes my heart soft and my dick hard.
“Thank you for coming to the rescue today. I really appreciate that you dropped everything without hesitation to help me. I know how busy—”
“Never too busy when it comes to a family emergency,” I say.
“Even when it’s not your family?” she gives me a sassy look, calling me on the sentiment, but I hold firm.
“Dasher’s family is my family.” She laughs and I notice the rise of color before she turns away.
“Are all those wrapped gifts under your tree real?” she asks.