The Sweetheart Rules (26 page)

“Must have had a hell of a fertilizer in that formula you fed me, Mom.”

She laughed, and he laughed, and the room rang with the sound. They ate cake and drank iced tea and caught up on too many years apart. The shadows of the past began to recede, letting in a much brighter future. Outside, the girls’ laughter rang like bells.

After they were done eating, Mike stacked his plate in the dishwasher and refilled their iced teas. “I’m heading back to Alaska in a few days, but I’m planning on returning to Florida a lot more often, Mom. Me and the girls. There’s this, uh, woman in Rescue Bay that I’ve kind of fallen for.”

“Really? That’s wonderful.”

He put up a hand. “Don’t call the preacher or anything. It’s all pretty complicated right now. I think she’s scared to fall in love.”

“Isn’t everybody?” his mother said. “But if you find the right person, it’s worth every risk. I had that with your dad, and I didn’t treasure that love until it was gone.” She reached for him, held one of his hands in both her own. “Take the risk, Michael. That kind of love doesn’t come along every day.” She got to her feet, her eyes bright and her smile wide. “And with that, I’m going to go outside and play with my grandchildren.”

Two hours later, Mike headed back to Rescue Bay, loaded up with cookies and cake and promises to visit more often. The girls napped in the car, tuckered out from their day outside and the long drive. When he got off the highway at the Rescue Bay exit, he debated taking the road along the Gulf that led to the house. Or taking a left downtown and heading to the shelter.

He glanced back at the sleeping girls and decided home could wait. He had fifteen minutes until the shelter closed for the day. Enough time to change one dog’s life. And maybe, if he was really lucky, one man’s life, too.

Mike pulled into the shelter parking lot, parked the car, then woke up the girls. “Let’s go get that dog.”

In an instant, Jenny and Ellie transformed from sleepy rag dolls into excited bubbles of energy. They dashed out of the car and into the shelter. Mike followed behind, telling himself he’d decided to do this now because it was the most convenient time. Not because Diana’s car still sat in the parking lot and he had this masochistic urge to see her.

He masked his disappointment when he found Laura, the office assistant, at the desk instead of Diana. Maybe it was a sign—a sign he should give up on Diana Tuttle once and for all.

The girls overtalked each other, shouting “Cinderella,” “adopt,” and “hurry.” Laura laughed and leaned over the counter to look at Jenny and Ellie. “I take it you two want to adopt Cinderella?”

“Yup.” Jenny nodded. “As soon as possible.”

“I was just filling in for the afternoon, so I’m not sure about Cinderella’s status. I’m heading out, and I’m already late, so let me grab Diana. She’ll help you out, I’m sure.” Laura looked at Mike. “Plus, you guys are kinda friends, aren’t you?”

Friends.

The word reminded him of the conversation they’d had a month ago in this very building. Where he’d told Diana he wanted them to be something more than friends. For a while they had been. But now… he wasn’t sure.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” he said. Though he’d really like a second opinion on that from Diana.

“Great. Give me a sec.” Laura disappeared through the door separating the shelter from the vet’s office. The girls dropped into the lobby chairs, debating the best color for Cinderella’s leash.

As soon as the door closed, Mike’s cell phone rang. He started to decline the call, then noticed it was Jasmine’s number. He hadn’t heard from his ex very much over the last thirty days. She’d talked to the girls a few times, and that was pretty much it. At first, the girls had been hurt by the sporadic contact, then they seemed to take it in stride, as if they’d learn to expect disappointment. That angered and saddened Mike, but he could no more control Jasmine than he could the wind. “Girls, your mom’s on the phone.”

Jenny and Ellie lined up beside him, each waiting to be the first one to talk. “Just let me talk to her for a second first, okay?” Mike crossed to the other side of the room, near the exit, and a little more out of earshot of the girls.

He pressed the answer button and put the phone to his ear. “Hi, Jasmine.”

“Oh, good, glad I got ahold of you,” she said in her chirpy, bright voice. “I gotta make this quick, cuz I’m going to miss my flight. I know you were planning on dropping the girls off this weekend, but can you
please
keep them for a little while longer?”

“I’m heading back to base—”

“I’m getting married!”

The news hit him like a truck. Mike opened his mouth, shut it again. “You’re… what?”

“Lenny asked me to marry him and I said
yes
!” She screamed the last into the phone, and he held it away from his ear to keep his eardrum from imploding. “We’re flying to Vegas in a few minutes. I mean, you’re okay with this, right? My getting married again? You and me got divorced a long time ago, and, well, we didn’t have much of a marriage to begin with.”

That was an understatement. Their marriage had been over almost before it began. He didn’t feel a shred of jealousy, but wasn’t so sure she was making the most rational decision. Jasmine lived her life on impulse, and she had drawn him into that same crazy thinking for a little while. He’d married her on the spur of the moment, thinking that marrying someone who didn’t take life or relationships seriously would be ideal. Not so much. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay with it. But are you sure? I mean, isn’t that kind of quick?”

“When you know, you know!” He heard the exchange of a loud kiss on the other end, presumably an expression of love between Jasmine and Lenny. “Anyway, we wanted to take a honeymoon. You know, be alone without those kids underfoot. And I know it’s last minute, but you owe me, buddy. I’ve been doing the mommy thing by myself for years.”

He lowered his voice and turned away from Jenny and Ellie. “Jasmine, I only have so much leave. I can’t just not go back to the base.”

“Tell them it’s a family emergency.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Make it simple. If you don’t want to watch the girls, just dump them at my neighbor’s. She owes me for watching her stupid barking dog all last month.” There was an announcement on the other end, then Jasmine came back on the phone. “Listen, I gotta go. Tell the girls I said good-bye and I’ll see them soon.”

“Jasmine, you can’t do this. You can’t just leave them. I have to go back to the base and I can’t take them with me.”

But she was gone. He was talking to himself. He bit back a curse, then slid his phone into his pocket and turned around.

Jenny stood there, her face ashen. “Jasmine’s leaving?”

“Only for a couple weeks. I have to go back to Alaska, but we’ll figure something out, Jen. I promise.”

At that moment, the door opened and Diana walked into the room, and in one second, made Mike’s heart skip a beat and his brain momentarily forget the phone call. She had her hair down today, a flaxen curtain skimming across the shoulders of her lab coat. She wore a denim skirt, a cartoony T-shirt with cats on the front, and a pair of wedges that showed off her amazing legs.

Mike didn’t know whether to be upset or grateful at the timing of Diana’s arrival. Either way, he needed a few minutes to figure out what to do next. One thing he did know—there was no way in hell he was dumping his girls off with some neighbor he’d never met.

The girls jumped up and down, telling Diana about wanting to adopt Cinderella. Well, Ellie was. Jenny was hanging back, quiet, just nodding from time to time. He crossed to his daughters and put a hand on Jenny’s back.

“Uh…” Diana looked at Mike, then back at Jenny. Diana bit her lip, then bent down to Jenny’s level. The air seemed to still, and Mike realized bad news was on its way. “I’m sorry, honey, but Cinderella’s owners came in today and brought her home. They’d been missing her a lot.”

“She’s… gone?” Jenny’s voice fractured into tiny, sharp pieces.

Diana brushed a lock of hair off Jenny’s forehead. “Yes, but she’s always going to remember you. When you were here, you made her super happy and kept her from being scared about being away from her family. You did a great thing, Jenny.”

“But… but… I… I wanted to adopt her.”

The pain in Jenny’s voice might as well have been a knife in Mike’s heart. He dropped down beside his daughter and tried to hug her, but she stood as still as a statue, while tears pooled in her eyes and her lower lip trembled.

“I know this is hard,” Diana said. “Believe me, Cinderella will never forget you.”

“That’s right, Jelly Bean,” Mike said. “You were awesome with that dog, and—”

Jenny spun toward him. “You promised us! Remember? Now you’re breaking your promise!”

“I didn’t know Cinderella’s owners would come and get her, honey,” Mike said. Damn. Why did these kinds of things have to happen? He knew it was part of life, but it was a part that sucked. He’d do anything to wipe that look off Jenny’s face. “She’s going to be happy at home, so you don’t have to worry about her anymore. We can look at some other dogs—”

“I don’t
want
another dog. Cinderella loved me. She needed me.” The tears filled her eyes, then overflowed and streamed down her cheeks. “She didn’t want to leave me!”

When Mike tried to reach for his daughter, she slipped his grasp and barreled through the door that led to the kennels.

“Cinderella! Cinderella!” Jenny called, her voice rising with each syllable. The sounds of hope and disbelief in Jenny’s words broke Mike’s heart. “Cinderella!”

Mike ran a hand through his hair and glanced at Diana. “Can you watch Ellie for a minute so I can talk go to Jenny?”

Diana nodded. Her green eyes softened with sympathy. “She got pretty attached to that dog. It’s understandable that she’s heartbroken. Give her some time; she’ll be okay.”

“I hope so.”

“Jenny’s mad,” Ellie said. “She wants a doggie.”

Mike ruffled Ellie’s hair. “Yup. And I wanna talk to her for a minute. Okay?”

Ellie nodded. Her thumb went back in her mouth and she clutched Teddy tight to her chest.

Mike headed into the kennel area. The shelter had closed, and the lights were dim, the halls empty. Dogs barked and yipped, pouncing on the kennel doors, hoping for attention. In the distance, he could hear the cats meow.

“Jen?” Jenny had stopped calling Cinderella’s name, but over the sound of the dogs, he heard something worse than the hopeful cries of a child.

Sobbing. Body-heaving, chest-wracking, soul-deep sobs.

The kind that broke his heart in two and made him wish he could clone that dog, or offer up a miracle Band-Aid that would take away all the disappointment. He turned the corner and found Jenny curled into a tight ball in the corner of the room, her body turned toward the concrete wall, her shoulders shuddering and her breath coming in big, loud gulps.

Mike lowered himself beside her on the floor. He reached out an arm and drew her to him. Jenny resisted for a moment, but Mike held on, and wrapped his other arm around his heartbroken child. “I’m sorry, Jenny. I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “You promised, you promised.”

“I know.” He lifted her chin until she was looking at him, then brushed away the damp locks of hair on her cheeks. Her face was red and her eyes were swollen. In that moment, he would have given his left arm to ease the hurt in her heart.
This
was what it felt like to be a real parent, he realized. To want happiness for your child more than you wanted it for yourself. He might not be the best parent in the world, but he was going to do the best damned job he could as a dad. “Jenny, think about how Cinderella’s family feels. If I lost you, I’d be so upset and not stop until I found you. Once I did, I’d never want to let you go.” Kind of how he felt now, at the end of thirty days with his children. And they were now, truly, his children. He didn’t want to let them go. Didn’t want to leave. He wanted the picnics on the beach and ice-cream lunches and bedtime stories every single day. “I’d also be awful grateful to whoever had taken care of you and made sure you were safe and happy.”

“But, Daddy, you promised.” She lifted her tearstained face to his. Her lower lip trembled. “You said Cinderella and you go wherever we go. Remember?”

“I know, and we’ll get another dog.” He waved toward the other kennels, full of pets desperate for a home. “Any dog you want.”

Jenny shook her head and pulled out of his arms. She looked cold and lonely, huddled against the wall again, but her little face was stony. “You promised and now you’re leaving and we’re not going to get a dog or go to Alaska and see you. And we’re going to end up with the neighbor or some stranger or in foster care. And you’ll be
gone
. You’re leaving. Everybody leaves all the time.” The tears started again, silent, slow rivers streaming down her cheeks, puddling on her bare knees.

Mike sighed. The conversation with Jasmine. He hadn’t been as discreet as he’d hoped. He should have taken it outside. He could kick himself for letting her overhear any of it. “Honey, it’s going to be okay.”

“No it’s not! Because Jasmine is going to Vegas. And we have nowhere to stay. Cuz you have to go back to Alaska. You said we’d be together, Daddy. You said we’d go everywhere with you.” She jerked forward, the tears coming steady now, and started pounding her little fists against his chest. “You promised, Daddy, you promised.”

He’d spent eight years letting his daughters down. Eight years being a sucky drive-by dad who made promises and broke them, never thinking about how that would erode their trust, uproot their foundation and leave the two of them standing on a shifting, sandy base. Over the last few weeks, the girls had learned to trust him, to believe that he would stand by his word, and now, he’d let them down again, with two events out of his control. But to an eight-year-old, it didn’t matter who was responsible for her heartbreak. It mattered that she had trusted him and he hadn’t come through.

He couldn’t fix this like he could an engine. Couldn’t order a new part or weld a piece back together. He couldn’t go out on a mission and rescue the panicked boater who’d misjudged the tides or the strength of a storm. On base, on a mission, Mike knew what to do, how to fix the impossible, but when it came to parenting, he had no easy solutions, no backup plan for a time like this, when things went totally, completely FUBAR.

He caught his daughter’s hands with his own and met her teary eyes. “Jenny, I—”

“Why can’t we go with you to Alaska? We’ll be good, Daddy, I promise.”

How he wished he had some parenting guidebook for a moment like this. Something to tell him the right answer, the right words to say that would soothe his daughter’s fears and let her know it would be okay.

He swiped away her tears with his thumb. “I can’t take you with me to Alaska because sometimes I’m gone for a couple weeks, and I can’t leave you girls alone like that.”