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Authors: Gail Gaymer Martin

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BOOK: Dad in Training
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The thunder of her heart pounded in her ears.

“I’m like the sea, Molly. My emotions rise and fall with the tide. My aloofness or whatever you want to call it comes from my own confusion. I’ve given myself a talking-to, and I owe you an apology for dragging you through the mire of my uncertainty.”

She studied his face. “I have no idea what you’re telling me.”

“I’m not good with words. Put me behind my desk or at a business meeting, and I’m in control. Put me in front of you and I’m a mess.”

A mess? Her head spun. She still didn’t understand.

Tension grew on his face. “I’ve confused you.”

“You’re observant.”

A faint grin stole to his lips. “I like you, Molly. A lot.”

Not what she expected. Her stomach joined her emotional fray, and she opened her mouth with the truth. “I like you, too.”

“Liking you is my problem. I don’t date. I just don’t have anything to give a woman.”

“You don’t what?” She widened her eyes to emphasize her disbelief. “Brent, I love your patience. You listened to my crazy idea and accepted it. You became a supporter, even though I know you first thought I was nuts. You’re kind. You’ve taken Randy into your life, and you’re amazing. You adopted Rocket, even though you aren’t partial to dogs for some reason. I know that’s part of your past. Something you don’t want to share.”

“You see all that in me?”

“It’s not on the outside. It’s what’s in—”

“The heart.”

The two words rolled through her. “Yes. The heart. You can try to hide behind your defenses, but I look deeper. I have teacher’s eyes. We see everything.”

“I guess.” He fell back against the recliner. “So what do we do now?”

His question knocked the wind out of her. She didn’t know what she wanted, but she knew one thing. “Let’s take time to explore our friendship. Will you agree that we’ve become friends?”

“Friends and cohorts in your project.” He rose and extended his hand.

She stood and accepted his broad palm, her eyes exploring Brent’s—deeper blue than a summer evening. Instead of releasing her hand, he drew her closer and wrapped one arm around her while his free hand stroked her hair.

She leaned against his strong chest and could have stayed there forever, but a loud clang from the kitchen dragged them apart.

Brent bolted toward the noise as Rocket shot through the breakfast doorway. “Rocket. What have you done?”

Molly and Rocket stared at each other while Brent stood in the kitchen doorway with a startled look on his face. She knew the dog had done something, but nothing would be worse than Rocket’s timing.

“You rotten dog.” Brent’s voice sailed from the kitchen.

Molly hurried through the doorway to see the frypan on the floor with only a few pieces of spaetzel still inside.

“He ate it.”

She eyed the few noodles left and tried not to laugh. “I don’t suppose this can fall under the five-seconds rule.”

“Five seconds?”

“When something falls, if you can pick it up in five seconds it’s still edible.” The look on his face and the situation released her laughter. “You know the ones I told you to freeze?”

He nodded.

“Don’t.”

Chapter Nine

B
rent sat with his hands folded, waiting for a comment from the board. They had flipped open the proposal with the new information. Some sat with their hands folded while others seemed to be searching for something specific within the document.

“I believe Miss Manning has shown us that she is ready to make her own financial commitment. She has indicated she has fifty thousand dollars in ready cash, and an outside party willing to make monthly contributions equaling five thousand dollars each year. A veterinarian has donated time each month, and a pet store will provide a monthly supply of dog food for the first year.”

Brent focused on each person, trying to read their expressions. “I believe Mo—Miss Manning has shown her commitment to the project, and we can cooperate by allowing her to use the building until—”

“If she has ready cash and we were interested in renting this building, why should we give it to her rent free?”

Brent straightened his shoulders, startled that the board member had missed the point. “The funds she has available are needed for start-up costs, revisions to the building, furnishings.”

“Excuse me, but wasn’t that something we discussed last week? What if she renovates the building so that we can’t sell it as a—”

Brent’s dander rose. “Jack, yes we did discuss this. I answered your concern at our last meeting. We’re not talking major revisions. She will partition various areas to separate the waiting room and office areas from the kennel. These partitions can be easily removed.”

“At whose expense, Brent?”

He eyed Jack, trying to decide why he was fighting the proposal. “The building is empty and has been for over two years. It’s been sitting there. It’s not selling and won’t be with the economy as it is. Would it not be a gesture of benevolence to allow this young woman to create a shelter for dogs?” Brent grasped for Molly’s statistics, hanging somewhere in his memory. “Did you know that between five and eight million animals are euthanized each year in the United States because they haven’t had the opportunity to become adoptable by people who would give them a good home?”

“Look, Brent,” Casey Dallis said, “you seem to love animals.”

Brent stiffened. No, he didn’t like…The lie failed him.

“But we’re talking economics here, and it seems we could use this property for something more useful than a dog shelter. I just think—”

“Interesting.”

Brent’s father’s voice cut through the icy air, and Brent went cold. “Dad, what are you doing here?” His long struggle to be the company director fell to its death on the boardroom floor.

His father sauntered in, pulled out a chair and sat. He eyed the board without looking at Brent. “Casey, what do you think we should do with the property?”

“Sell it and—”

“Then you haven’t been listening.” Morris leaned forward
and stared the man in the eyes. “The property has been up for sale too long—years. The price has been cut to bare bones. No one is buying right now. Places are closing, not opening. Yes, one day it will change, and then we’ll have this building to sell at the price it’s worth, but now, we’d have to give it away.”

Jack’s voice cut through the tension. “Isn’t that what Brent is suggesting?”

“That’s not what I’m suggesting, Jack. We’re allowing this building to be used for a charitable cause and benefiting from an additional tax write-off.”

Jack fell back against his chair and didn’t respond.

Morris gestured to Brent to proceed, but Brent felt stifled by his father’s interference. They’d just made steps to improve their relationship, and today he watched it slide into the sewer. He opened his mouth to tell his father to take over the meeting but stopped himself. Antagonism would get him nowhere, and his father had come in support. Molly would be devastated if her project fell apart at this point.

Brent drew up his shoulders. “Any more discussion or comments?”

Eyes lowered as his father stared them down.

“Our contract will be for two years with a renewal every two years, so we will have the opportunity to sell the building when the time is right. I’ll personally see that the building is not altered in any way that might be a detriment to future use as a factory. Miss Manning has already looked into registration of the facility, her licenses and the inspection requirements. She will carry insurance for the business as she stated in the proposal.” He gazed around the room looking at heads pivoting from him to his father. “Are we ready for a motion?”

No new discussion rose. One of the quieter members mumbled the motion.

“Do I hear a second?”

To his surprise, Jack seconded the motion.

Brent kept his eyes steady. “Any more discussion?” Silence.

“All in favor of accepting this proposal as it has been amended, say aye.”

Voices mumbled ayes around the table.

“Nays?”

None.

“The motion has passed.” He shifted his gaze to his father. “Would you like to let Miss Manning know that her proposal has been accepted?”

His father’s steady gaze lowered. “No.You’re the director.” He shifted his focus to the men at the table. “You’ve made a wise decision. Thank you. I would rather see this property used than be another example of our caving economy, and we’re doing a service to this young woman and to the pets she cares about.”

He rolled his chair back and rose. “Good day, gentlemen.” He stepped toward the door and slipped silently out of the room while Brent sat trying to maintain his decorum.

The meeting dragged on for another hour, despite Brent’s attempt to move it along. He realized Molly would be anxious to hear the news. When he saw the end coming, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket to see if he’d missed her call or perhaps a text message. None. His fingers tingled to call Molly and tell her the wonderful news.

After the men filed out and Brent sat in the room alone, he flipped out his cell and pressed in the first five numbers, then stopped. He’d miss the look on her face if he called. He stared at the buttons while his pulse raced and then slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn’t know how he could get through the day without telling her. He took two steps and stopped. Directors could leave early anytime they wanted to. Only he never did. Maybe today would be the first step to change his behavior.

 

Molly paced the floor until she grew impatient. She couldn’t eat breakfast, and she’d tried lunch but struggled with
every bite to swallow her sandwich. Anxious for Brent’s call, she made a cup of tea and curled up on the sofa with a new novel. Summertime offered the luxury of reading her favorite authors’ books she’d purchased and piled on the bookshelf.

The novel read well and presented an exciting story that should have captured her interest the moment she read the opening lines, but after three paragraphs she’d begun to read without meaning. She tossed the book on the lamp table and pulled out a magazine from the rack. She flipped through it, pulling out those irritating subscription cards lying between the pages and captured by the binding. She made a pile, and when she’d found them all, Molly walked into the kitchen and tore them into bits.

“Nothing like taking out my aggression on a magazine.”

She shook her head, hearing her voice. Talking to herself had become a stress signal. Eyeing the bowl of fresh fruit on the counter, Molly dropped the last bit of paper into the wastebasket, admitting she’d felt light-headed all morning. Maybe she needed potassium. She grasped a banana from the bowl, dropped the peel in the trash and nibbled on it as she returned to the sofa, checking her watch for the umpteenth time. It was after three. Her chest was weighted with worry. She’d thought Brent’s board met in the morning.

Her chest ached, and tears seeped along the rim of her lashes. Molly spun around and headed to the bathroom, trying to swallow the last of the banana. When she caught her reflection in the mirror, her face looked pinched, and a tension headache had begun in the cords of her neck.

Molly opened the medicine cabinet and spilled two aspirins into her palm. As she grabbed a glass, the doorbell rang. She turned on the tap, filled the glass with a few swallows of water and tossed down the pills. She charged down the hallway to the front door, mumbling she wasn’t in the mood to take a survey, hear any news about new condo rules or buy cookies from anyone.

When Molly jerked open the door, she let out a gasp. “Brent.” He didn’t have to tell her. She saw the uncomfortable look on his face.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.”

She studied his serious expression. “You’re here to break the bad news.”

He peered at her through the screen. “Could I come in?”

The shock of seeing him on her porch dislodged her manners. Molly pushed open the door. “Please. I…I…” She got no further, fighting back her disappointment.

Brent slipped past her and stood in the doorway of her living room. “This is attractive, Molly.”

She only nodded and pressed her fingers against her lips to contain an outburst of tears as she motioned toward the sofa.

He sat in the easy chair while she waited.

He pointed to a chair. “Aren’t you going to sit?”

“You had the board meeting today. I’ve been waiting to hear what happened.”

An indefinable look swept across his face, as he rose and walked toward her.

Tears brimmed her eyes. “I’m not going to faint when you give me the news. I’m ready.”

He stood in front of her, his expression shifting to a surprise grin. “The proposal passed.”

She studied his face. “The proposal—”

“Passed. The building is yours.”

Her hand flew to her chest. “It’s mine. Really?” Her heart felt as if it would explode.

“Yes.” The grin grew to a smile.

Molly threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulders. Tears she so rarely shed poured from her eyes and soaked his shirt. Though she tried to contain her joy, the reality triggered another outburst.

Brent held her against him, rubbing her back in gentle circles. The longer she cried the closer he drew her.

Calming herself, Molly gazed at him, and her heart stopped. His eyes were closed, and emotion filled his face. Though she wanted to speak, words didn’t come. Brent’s eyelashes flickered, and he looked at her with a tenderness she’d never seen. “I’m happy for you, Molly. Really happy.”

She raised herself on tiptoes and wrapped her arms around him more tightly. “I can’t thank you enough. I’m overwhelmed. I’m—” She looked at him again, her gaze shifting from his glistening eyes to his well-shaped lips. They parted as if he might speak, but that notion vanished as she felt him draw her closer. Their mouths touched in a breathless rush of longing.

Her heart thundered, and as reality pummeled her senses, she pulled back, gasping for air.

Brent looked stunned. “Molly, I…I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Neither did I, but we did.” The warmth of his lips clung to her mouth. “We’re both…” What? “I’m ecstatic about the shelter, Brent. I can’t account for my actions.”

He shook his head. “I plead the fifth.”

Molly burst into laughter, her confusion, anticipation, excitement masquerading as humor.

Brent’s face relaxed. “I wanted to tell you in person. I know I scared you at first, so I hope you forgive me for that.”

After that kiss, forgiveness wasn’t an issue. She touched his cheek with her fingers, feeling his soft skin with a hint of growing stubble. “You’ve already been forgiven.” The way he looked at her caused her to question if he’d read between the lines.

He cupped her face in his hands. “You’re always optimistic.”

“No. I just believe.”

He lifted his hand and pressed his palm against her fingers. “Let’s celebrate.”

Celebrate. Her spirit lifted heavenward. “I’d like that.”

She removed her fingers from his cheek, and Brent lowered his hands to her shoulders.

“I’ll see if my dad will keep Randy for me.”

“Don’t do that. Let’s do something with him, too.”

“Are you sure?”

She wanted to brush the creases from his face. “I’m certain. Let’s go downtown.”

“To Detroit?”

“To the Downtown River Days. They have some carnival rides, music, kids activities and fireworks tonight. I saw it in the paper this morning.”

“You’re just a barrelful of information, aren’t you?” He tweaked her cheek.

“I thought you were going to say a barrelful of fun.”

Brent drew her closer. “We’ll find out how much fun you are tonight at the Downtown River Days. Randy will be thrilled.”

“I hope so.”

She pictured the lonely child that she longed to see laughing and playing like other boys his age. Tonight would definitely help.

 

Music carried to the streets from speakers as Brent linked his arm with Molly’s. Randy strode along beside them, sometimes running ahead and turning around to make sure they were still there.

Tantalizing smells of barbecued pork and sausages drifted from the riverfront vendors, and Brent’s stomach gave a tug almost as strong as his heart had lurched earlier in the day when he held Molly in his arms.

BOOK: Dad in Training
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ads

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