Dad in Training (6 page)

“Saving dogs is important to you?” She looked at him and nodded. “Now tell me. How does the building on Rochester Road come into this?”

“I need a building for the shelter, and one preferably zoned for commerce and not residential. Your building is perfect, and it’s large enough to run the Teacher’s Pet program.”

“So you want to rent this building?”

Her heart slipped to her toes, and her shoulders weighted with her next sentence. “I can’t afford to rent a building. Not now.”

He drew back, his eyes narrowing again. “You want us to give you the building? We can’t consider—”

“No, not give, just let us use it for…a small sum to make it legal. Maybe, ten dollars? I read an article—”

“As much as ten dollars.” Morris’s eyes widened. This time he tapped his index finger against his chin. “Hmm?”

His playful expression made her chuckle, and to her pleasure, he joined her. With his changed demeanor, her fears eased.

Morris’s grin faded. “Why do you think it wouldn’t be more lucrative for me to sell the building?”

“Because it hasn’t sold in over two years. I talked to the Realtor. By giving me use of the building, you’d receive a charitable donation tax write-off, and you’d be doing something to help resolve a serious problem for abandoned animals.”

His head jolted backward. “You talked with the Realtor?”

“Yes.” She waited, hoping he wouldn’t be angry.

“Very enterprising of you.” He surveyed her a moment before he muttered, “That must have been what Brent was talking about.”

Her pulse zinged when she heard his name. Talking about what? Her or the building? “You might not like dogs.”

“Why would you think that?”

Her arms turned to ice thinking of Brent’s attitude. Finally she shrugged. “I just assumed—”

“I had two sons, Miss…Molly. My youngest begged for a dog, and I allowed him to have one with stipulations.” His eyes darkened.

Stipulations? What did that mean?

“You know kids. He followed the rules at first but then…”

His voice faded and she waited until the silence became unbearable. “What happened?”

“I had to—” His face blanched, and he looked down. “Toby ran away.”

“Toby was the dog?”

“A golden retriever. A hunting dog.”

Air shot from Molly’s lungs. “I’m sorry. I know it’s hard to lose pets. Your youngest was—”

“Brent. He didn’t handle it well.”

And obviously still doesn’t. “Loss is difficult for children.” That couldn’t be all the story. Adults adjust.

He rose and brushed his fingers over his chin. “Down to business.” He dug out a cell phone from his pocket and sank back into his chair. “Let me make a quick call.”

Molly’s pulse thumped in her temple. She tried to take a deep calming breath while her attention had riveted to the phone.

Morris hit the numbers and waited. When someone answered, he gave a nod. “Brent. Yesterday you brought up the building on Rochester Road, but we never got back to it. Any progress on selling the thing?”

Knots tied Molly’s muscles in bunches.

Morris listened a moment while Molly searched at his face. “If that’s the case, let’s try a new tack.” He paused.

Molly strained to hear Brent’s side of the conversation. She heard his voice but couldn’t make out the words.

“Wait a minute.” Morris’s hand shot upward. “Let me tell
you my idea.” He gave Molly a wink. “Let’s use the building for a worthy cause.”

“Worthy cause?” Brent’s voice sailed from the receiver like a megaphone. “Don’t tell me…”

Molly heard the disbelief in his voice. She closed her eyes and cringed. She’d envisioned this differently.

“Don’t tell you what?” But Morris didn’t wait for his answer. “Why not check with the Realtor? Our agreement with them should have expired by now anyway.”

Her pulse accelerated. Molly closed her eyes and clamped her hands to the cushion of her chair.

“I have a young lady here, and I’d like to have you talk with her.”

“I knew it,” burst from the telephone. “Why couldn’t she have waited?”

Wait for what? Molly wondered.

“Who are you talking about, Brent? I think you’ll like this young woman’s ideas. Remember how much you loved Toby. She wants space for a dog shelter.”

“Don’t tell me, Dad.” Morris held the telephone from his ear, a scowl embedding his face. “Is the lovely young woman named Molly Manning?” Morris’s eyes shifted to Molly.

She flinched.

“Yes, it is. How did you know?” He listened again, his look intense. “And you didn’t like the idea?”

Feeling like a snake, Molly squirmed in the chair.

Exasperation filled Morris’s face. “Oh, then you like the idea?” He listened for a moment than shook his head. “Well, apparently you didn’t like it when you talked with her.”

Molly looked toward the doorway, wishing she could escape, but she sensed she was on the doorstep of change. Either her dream was about to come true or it had blown up in her face. She couldn’t tell from Morris’s expression.

When Brent’s father disconnected and turned to face her, Molly knew she had some explaining to do.

B
rent jammed the telephone receiver onto the cradle and sat back in his chair. Why hadn’t Molly waited? His stomach knotted. He’d planned to present the idea to his father on Tuesday. Instead Randy ended up being the topic of the evening, and he’d let the business topic slip. He expected Molly’s determination, but he hadn’t expected shrewdness.

He rose from the desk and strode across the great room. Night had settled across the sky, and he stood staring into the darkness, his mind flying from problem to problem. He’d made progress with his father recently. His father had stepped back and allowed him to run the business. Finally. Tonight’s setback destroyed that. Now his proposal for the building had become his father’s baby instead of his. He’d worked hard to set himself up as the spokesman and decision maker for the company, and today Molly had undone his efforts. He wrestled between admiring Molly’s determination and being irritated.

Tonight irritation won out. The woman could wrangle a cobra with her innocent look.

A loud thud stopped Brent cold. He glanced up toward the ceiling and then hurried to the staircase. “Randy. What’s going on?”

No response.

“Are you okay?”

Another
bam
.

He darted up the stairs two at a time and swung past the laundry room to the front bedroom doorway. He grasped the knob and then stopped himself. “Randy, are you okay?”

“Yes.”

Brent counted to ten and added another five for good measure. “May I come in?”

“No.”

“Randy, please.”

Behind the door a softer thud resounded. “What?”

“I’d like to come in.” He waited, not wanting to destroy the little trust he’d developed with Randy. This room was the boy’s, and he’d agreed it was to be off-limits except for an
emergency
. Now for the definition of emergency. He had rules and—

The door swung open, and he looked into a face distorted with frustration and red around his eyes as if Randy had been crying.

He looked past the boy into his bedroom. The typical unmade bed and clothes scattered on the floor didn’t bother him. What did concern him was Randy’s desk chair, which lay toppled on the floor along with a book. The laptop he’d given him to use for his schoolwork was open, but the screen saver made it impossible for Brent to see what he’d been reading. “What’s wrong?”

The boy shrugged.

“Can I come in?”

Randy stepped back and then walked toward the toppled chair and set it upright.

Brent followed behind and sat on the edge of his rumpled bed, noticing Randy’s school books on the floor. “Trouble with your homework?”

“No.” He jerked his arm and bumped the keyboard.

The screen saver vanished, and Brent could see the monitor. E-mail. But the words were too distant to read.

Randy noticed him looking and realized what he’d done. He shifted his body to cover the screen.

Though the purpose of the laptop was to provide Randy help with homework, Brent had allowed him limited e-mail access when he’d been befriended by one boy from his school. Brent wanted to encourage the friendship. Maybe e-mail privileges had been a mistake. “Did an e-mail upset you?”

“No.” He fidgeted in the chair.

Something in an e-mail had caused this problem, despite what Randy had said.

Brent swiped a piece of lint from his eyelash and motioned toward the computer. “Who’s that from?”

Randy shifted even farther.

“Something’s wrong, Randy. Have you had a fight with your friend?”

He shook his head. “It’s not from my friend.”

Brent rose from the bed. “Then who is it?”

Randy shrugged.

“Did he say something to upset you?”

Randy spun on his chair, making an attempt to delete the message, but Brent got there before he did and covered the board with his hand. He leaned over the boy and read the message. He released a breath and shook his head. “How did this person get your e-mail address?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you know who this is?” He looked at the e-mail address. “You don’t know this e-mail address? Who’s this ‘koolkid’ guy?”

“I don’t know.”

Brent peered at the e-mail’s vicious comments—
stupid, mental
and some filthy words Brent didn’t want to think about.

He rose, wanting so badly to take Randy in his arms, but
he couldn’t. Hugging the boy seemed inappropriate, and a handshake didn’t fit the situation either. “Words can’t hurt us, Randy, especially words that aren’t true.”

“I am stupid.”

“You’re none of those things.” Brent felt helpless. He looked at the boy’s downtrodden expression.

“Some kids call me Special Ed. I don’t want to be in those classes.”

The boy needed to know he was special in other ways, not special because he was dumb, but Brent didn’t know how to express it. “I don’t think you’re any of those things.”

Randy kicked his heel against the chair leg. “I don’t need anybody.”

Brent longed for words that could make a difference, but he had none. His father’s words came back to him.
Learn to be a dad
. He could run a business better than his dad gave him credit, but he didn’t know how to be a father to Randy.

He rested his hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “I need you, Randy.”

The boy lifted his face to Brent, his eyes exploring his as if seeking the truth, and a surprising quiet fell over him. Where those words came from, Brent didn’t question. They’d worked.

Randy stared at the wooden floor, his toe tracing the lines of a board joint over and over. When he looked up, moisture clung to the corners of his eyes. “Why?”

Why? Brent released a ragged breath, searching for a reason. “Because I get lonely without a friend. It’s nice to have someone here to talk with and share a meal.”

“I eat up here.”

“But I hope you’ll come down one day.” His hand shifted from the chair back and rested on Randy’s shoulder.

The boy twitched at his touch, but then relaxed.

He gave Randy’s shoulder a squeeze. “What do you say? School will be over in a couple of weeks, and we’ll find
some fun things to do. Would you like me to put up a basketball hoop?”

Randy gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I’m probably too short.”

“I can fix that, and I’m not very good, either. I’m sure you’ll beat me.”

“Beat you? Why?” His face grew curious.

“Because your dad was good at basketball. He played on the team in high school.”

His eyes brightened. “He did?”

“He did.” Brent swallowed forcing out the next sentence. “I could tell you lots of things about your dad.”

Randy straightened in the chair. “Like what?”

“He liked to hunt. Did you know that?” Brent’s heart ached as the words fell from his mouth.

“Hunt what?”

“Let’s go down and have some ice cream, and I’ll tell you.”

“Okay.”

Brent’s feet felt weighted as he headed for the door. The boy knew so little about his dad, and no one had told him anything. What had they been thinking?

Randy followed behind Brent as he took the stairs to the first floor. Molly popped into his mind as always. He wondered how she would handle Randy. Did she have the innate ability to be a mother, like women seemed to have? He guessed she could. Molly could do just about anything. He had to stop thinking about her. Tonight Randy required his attention. The boy needed him even more than Molly needed his building.

“Will you go with me?” Molly leaned against the door frame and studied Steph. “Please. I need your support.”

Steph placed her hands on her hips. “Did you tell him I was coming when you called him?” She closed one eye and peered at her. “Be honest.”

“I’m always honest. In fact, that gets me into trouble.”

“You’re right.” Steph waited. “Answer my question.”

“No, but—”

“But nothing. I’m not going to show up and—”

“Then will you just ride with me?” When Steph got stubborn, which she didn’t do often, Molly knew she was in trouble. “You can wait in the office while I go in.” She pressed her palms together as if she were praying. “Please.”

Steph shook her head. “You look pathetic.”

“I am. I need you.”

“Right.” She motioned Molly toward the doorway. “Let’s get this over with.”

Molly gave her a hug and bolted out the door. Brent said he’d be at the office until 6:00 p.m., and her watch warned her that she needed to hurry. Edging on the speed limit, Molly pulled into the Runyan parking lot at three minutes to six.

“Hurry,” she said, feeling out of breath. She hit the lock button as Steph slammed the passenger door. When Molly reached the outer office, the room was empty and Brent’s office door was closed. She bolted across the floor and knocked.

No sound came through the barrier.

“Mr. Runyan.” She rapped louder as her heart sank. She turned to Steph. “He’s gone.”

Steph looked at the wall clock and checked her watch. “It’s ten minutes after six, according to their clock.” She motioned toward the wall.

Molly turned toward the outside door, her legs so heavy she sensed they’d been bound with twenty-pound weights. “I thought he’d wait.”

“You thought wrong.” Steph slipped her arm around Molly’s shoulders. “He doesn’t care about your dream, Molly.”

“I know.” She looked at the empty secretary desk, then at the open door. “Let’s go.” As she took a step, the obvious struck her as her spirit soared. “If he’s gone, then why isn’t the outer door locked?”

Steph halted beside her. “Good point.”

Adrenaline rushed to action. “Maybe he’s—”

Motion caught her from the corridor doorway, and Molly froze.

“Molly.” He stood in the doorway, holding a stack of papers.

“We had an appointment.”

Brent lowered his eyes. “Not really. You asked if you could see me in the late afternoon.”

Apparently he didn’t interpret her request as an appointment. “I thought I had an appointment.” She glanced at his closed door and remembered the time. “Can we talk now?”

She heard his ragged exhale as he lifted his gaze to hers. His expression was unreadable, a mixture of disappointment, exasperation and hurt. Her pulse skipped when she saw the emotion that filled his eyes.

“Molly, I’m trying to be patient. I understand how much a dog shelter means to you and how determined you are, but you don’t realize what you’ve done.”

She squirmed beneath his gaze.

Brent took a step forward then stopped. “My father isn’t the only say in business matters. You should have waited.”

Molly’s chest felt heavy. “I’m sorry. I was desperate.”

His jaw tightened. “No more desperate than I am.”

His comment threw her off. She studied his face, wishing she knew what he was thinking. “Your father said you had a dog you loved. Toby.”

Brent was startled. “My father should—that has nothing to do with the property.”

“But it does.” She stepped closer. “I can’t force you to love my project, but if you’ve had any feelings for dogs, please give my idea some thought. You could drop by Teacher’s Pet any Wednesday about 1:00 p.m. and observe the class. You’d see how we teach the animals obedience. Dogs are very smart, and they have attributes that many people want but don’t have.”

He gave his head a shake as if he thought she was an idiot. “I’ve seen dogs chase cats up trees, but I never wanted that attribute.”

Beneath his ire, Molly sensed a new emotion. Her pulse kicked. “The world would be a better place if we were all partly dogs.”

“Molly, I have things to do tonight. I need to leave. I can’t deal with this problem. If you want—”

She drew back, feeling as if he’d opened a side gate and let her pet dog loose in traffic.

Steph touched her arm. “Molly, let’s go.” Her eyes were pleading.

Molly gave a final look at Brent. “Sorry I bothered you.”

Brent lifted his hand. “Molly, please…”

She motioned for Steph to go ahead, and she followed with her tail between her legs.

Molly looked forward to Wednesday, but today she didn’t look forward to anything. The weekend had been a bust. All she could think of was her useless talk with Brent on Monday, and since then the past two days had dragged with each infinitesimal emotion. She reviewed her tack and realized she’d made a grave error. From Brent’s expression, she sensed tension between him and his father.

What she’d done is alienated herself from Brent by dragging his father into the situation. Why hadn’t she waited? He’d said the same to her. She shouldn’t have pushed like she always did, never considering the damage she could do but always so certain she was right.

She’d prayed for patience, but she supposed God expected her to make an effort as well. Molly knew her flaws all too well. She had many, but she’d focused on doing good and making her life worthy of God’s blessings. A prayer flew heavenward that God would look at her heart and guide her.