Authors: Kate Vale
“I know you both miss your father.” She reached for the knitting project she had yet to finish. “I do, too. But, you have to understand something.” She paused. “He and I didn’t always get along, and his death was so sudden. It’s taken me some time to figure out what I want to do now, who I want to be. Now that he isn’t here to decide things.”
“But, you don’t have to
do
anything, Mother. Kevin and I will take care of you,” Penny blurted.
“No, dear, you won’t. You have your own lives to live. I don’t want you taking care of me.” Suzanna leaned forward in her chair. “Kev, you have to finish school, and decide what’s next for you. Right?”
“But, Mom, if you want me to—”
“You don’t want to be a lawyer. I know that. And you don’t have to do that, just because you decided to major in Political Science, like your father did. You have your own life to live. That’s your job. Not taking care of me. Not going to law school unless you want that, too.”
“Mother—
”
Penny began.
“I need to say something else, dear. This is hard, so please bear with me.” Suzanna put down her knitting and looked squarely at her. “Your father and I—we didn’t always want the same things. I’m not saying we didn’t want you. We both wanted children, and your father was so happy to have you. He couldn’t have been prouder of the two of you. You must know that.”
She gulped and began again. “It’s not something I want to admit, but I haven’t been happy for a while. And I don’t think he was either.” Suzanna looked over at the piano and the nearby wall of family photos. “I know he wasn’t.”
“But, Mother—”
“Penny, let me finish.” Suzanna stood up and walked over to the piano. “I want the three of us to be happy together. But we can’t be happy if you won’t let me be myself. In my new life. I need your help doing that, by letting me make my own way.” She turned and faced them. “You made me take that cruise, and I’m grateful you did. It gave me a chance to think—a lot—about what I want. Now I have to try out some ideas I have, so I’ll know, better, who I am. Will you let me do that?”
Kevin was the first to stand up and hug her. “Of course. I know Dad was hard on you sometimes. You just tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it. And, if getting a dog is what you want, go for it.”
Penny rose from the couch. “Mother, you know I love you.”
“Yes, dear, I know that. It’s time for a hug.”
Suzanna shut her eyes and concentrated on how she felt holding her daughter. She felt more fragile than her own child, maybe because Penny was taller than she? Or was it because Penny seemed so stiff in her arms?
Her daughter stepped back and looked at her watch. “I have
to go. I told Kai I’d mee
t him for coffee no later than nine
.”
“Then you’d better go.”
Suzanna
kissed her
cheek while Penny donned her coat
.
“When can I come see your new dog?”
Kevin asked.
“This wee
kend. I’m glad you’re okay with this, Kev
.”
Penny’s breath seemed to catch in her throat.
“
You’re not the same, Mother.”
“You mean the same as before your father died?” Suzanna bit back other words: angry, defensive words. Penny was still grieving. Maybe Kevin, too, although he seemed more encouraging.
She had to say it. “Your father always made the decisions around here. Now that he’s—not here, I need to do that. For myself, and for the two of you, but only if you want my advice.”
Kevin glanced at her.
“
Getting a dog’s good
.
So y
ou won’t be alone
.
”
“Right, so I won’t be alone.” She smiled at him, then at Penny.
Suzanna brought the pup home the next day.
T
hree near-sleepless nights
later, she regretted her decision. Her eyelids felt like sandpaper.
She called the breeder.
“What should I do? He’
s fine when I’m with him, takes naps whi
le I work in the kitchen
and everything,
and he’s already paper-trained. B
ut as soon as it’s dark, he starts to cry and nothing I do seems to make him happy.
It’s breaking my heart and ruining my sleep.
I feel just like I did when I had a teething baby.”
The breeder
chuckled.
“He misses you. Try this.
Take an extra towel and sleep on it
tonight
or
this afternoon—
if you take a nap
.
Then put it in his bed. If
he smells your scent on the towel, it will settle him down.
He
’s obviously
bond
ed
with you.”
“Why didn’t I think of that?”
Suzanna
followed the breeder’s suggestion and
woke the next morning with a start. No howling, n
o yipping, all night long. It must have worked.
“Success!” she whispered to herself.
After two more nights of relative calm, she addressed the pup. “I think it’s t
ime
we
introduce
you
to the kids. Would you like that, Sammie?” His smiling face and wagging tail told her he
agreed
.
She left text messages and began to make dinner.
“Is he house
broken yet?” Kevin petted the pup
later that week
.
“Pretty much.
We’re still using the papers at night, but he’s very good about going outside on our walks,” Suzanna
replied
.
“H
m
m.”
Penny
pursed her lips. “
His coat is so thick.
When will he be staying outside?”
“As soon as the weather warms and he’s older, I’ll get him one of those insulated dog houses.
He loves the snow, but he’s still just a baby.”
Penny
peer
ed
at
the floor. “You don’t
let
him
sit on the seats
in the
van
, do you? I’ll bet his claws will make holes.”
Suzanna silently counted to ten.
“When I took him to the vet for his shots, he sat on a towel on the floor and did
very nicely there.
”
“Hm
m
.”
“Admit it,
Penny, h
e’s cute
,” Kevin said
.
“
Come here, Sam
ol’ boy.
”
The little dog
slipped and slid
on the waxed kitchen floor as he pranced over to
Kevin with one of his toys in his mouth.
“Loo
k at that! He wants me to play.
”
Suzanna laughed. “Of course he does. Bab
ies love to play
.”
“H
m
m.”
Penny
stepped over the gate and into the formal dining room. “Well, I have to
go. Kai is waiting for me.
”
She left without saying good-bye.
“You like him, Mom?”
“What do you think?” Suzanna smiled.
“We’re starting obedience classes tomorrow.”
Time to test the waters.
“
And
I’m thinking of going on a
nother
trip.”
“A cruise?”
“No. Maybe a road trip
.”
Her heart jumped as she considered it. Where would she go?
“
Maybe in
March or April
. After Sam is through with classes.”
The next day, they began obedience training.
Sam seemed overwhelmed by all the other dogs and their activity. When the group stood in a line, he kept moving from Suzanna’s side, preferring instead to sit on her feet, as if taking courage from the feel of her shoes.
“He’l
l get better. Won’t you, Sam?” The trainer pa
tted him on the head after one especially trying session. “He wants to please you. Just keep working with him.” He
gave her hints about how to do so without the distraction of the other dogs.
Jonathan listened to the music emanating from the new sound system in Jamie’s living room, its furnishings more upscale than the last time he’d visited his fraternity brother. After
two nasty divorces, Jamie had recently married someone Jonathan hardly knew, a woman who was on a business trip this week.
The piano sonata now playing reminded him of Suzanna Wallace and her long graceful fingers.
How are you now? Over the shock of your man’s death?
The image of her bruised and swollen face swam into view and he locked his jaw. What kind of man would beat up a woman? He’d Googled her name before his flight to St. Paul, but nothing came up until he remembered Neil had said her husband had been an attorney. With that information, he tried again and came up with several possibilities. One was in Minneapolis, another in St. Paul.
Interesting.
His seminar presentation in St. Paul, at the agricultural campus of the University of Minnesota, gave him an opportunity. He smiled to himself. What would Neil say if he knew his father was thinking of calling her?
Was he a male version of Maris, chasing someone he couldn’t have, who might not be interested?
But he told himself he just wanted to see how she was doing.
He looked up when Jamie entered the room.
“Did you find her?”
Jonathan shook his head. “Maybe she’s unlisted. I found a P. Wallace. A relative, maybe?”
“Only way to find out is to call, Jon boy.” Jamie grinned. “What’s holding you back?”
What indeed?
He was out of practice calling a woman when it had nothing to do with business. “I’ll call after we get this seminar stuff nailed down.” He pushed the phone book to the center of the table.
“Suit yourself.” Jamie handed Jonathan the outline of the next day’s events.
The day after the seminar concluded, Jonathan opted for a walk. To clear his head. To get away from the questions in his friend’s eyes when Jamie caught him looking in the direction of the phone book, thinking about Suzanna Wallace. He was going home tomorrow. He grabbed a jacket and headed for Jamie’s car.
“I’m going out for a while. See you soon.”
Jonathan drove into Minneapolis and headed for Lake Harriet, an area several people had mentioned as particularly pretty. He found a place to park, noting that the walking area skirting the lake was free of snow. Not like in St. Paul, where the streets were so rarely cleared of the white stuff. He climbed out of the car and headed down the walk. When he’d rounded a bend, he looked up at the sounds of children’s laughter. He watched as a group of pre-teens trotted past him. Ahead of him on the trail were more people, some with dogs on leashes. He slowed to let them pass then picked up his pace. When he saw a cluster of women coming toward him, one of them Suzanna, his eyes widened and his pulse increased. Was it dumb luck that she was coming toward him? The curves he remembered were hidden in her heavy parka and she was walking a dog.
“Oh, my gosh. What are you doing here?” Suzanna grinned at him as she came closer. “Stop, Sam. Sit.”
“I was thinking of calling you—to ask how you were doing.”
Her green eyes seemed to take on a shine he hadn’t noticed before. “Oh. Well, I’m fine. I have a dog now.” She pointed to the half-grown pup. “We’re still learning the basic commands. Sit, Sam,” she said, when the dog whined and rose from his position near her left leg.
“There are lots of people on this trail today. Maybe we should find a bench, out of the traffic,” he suggested.
“Good idea.” She began walking with him. “What are you doing in Minneapolis? Aren’t you from somewhere out west?”
“Montana. I was participating in a seminar—on the St. Paul campus.”
“You’re a rancher. I think your son told me that.”
“I am, and I’m sometimes brought in to consult on projects, sit on panels, or impress the grad students with what they don’t know.”
She looked interested in hearing more. Too bad some of the students hadn’t been as captivated the other day.
“I’m going home tomorrow. I needed to get some air—too much time inside was getting to me,” he explained. What was it that warmed him when she looked his way? Her emerald eyes? The way she smiled?
“Lake Harriet is a ways from St. Paul. Are you staying in a motel on this side of the river?”
“I’m bunking with a friend. Near River Road. I drove over here because people said it was a nice place for a walk.”