“Is Dad coming to dinner?” he asked, just to push the matter.
Mom snorted under her breath. “When was the last time he’s been home for dinner?” she asked with a decidedly bitter twist to her lips. “And now...well, now he has to make his own dinner. In the garage.” And then she turned on her heel and continued puttering. Loudly.
Drew paused, his brain clicking forward. Come to think of it, Dad hadn’t been around home much prior to moving out to the garage apartment. In fact, he been working killer hours for six months or so....
Drew continued to speculate about exactly what was going on with his parents, and if he’d ever figure out how to win an argument with the mule-headed woman standing before him.
Probably not, he concluded, and resigned himself to a dinner with his mom and the pretty dog rescuer resting down the hall.
* * *
Though dinner was delicious, Ally had no appetite whatsoever. So she pushed her food around and took a few bites, trying to act as if she was eating; the last thing she wanted to do was hurt Grace’s feelings.
Ally wasn’t surprised that she couldn’t eat; she’d had to call her foster sister, Sue, and tell her that her uncle’s house had burned down. Sue had been understandably shocked and upset, and Ally had promised to keep her posted with details about the fire and how it had started as they became available. Sue was going to contact her insurance company about a claim.
Drew was noticeably quiet through the meal, and he focused mostly on eating. Ally definitely sensed some kind of tension between him and his mom, mostly coming from his end of the table. She also noticed that Mr. Sellers was absent. What was the story there? No one offered an explanation, and she didn’t ask; it was none of her business.
As soon as everyone was finished, even though she felt exhaustion pulling at her, Ally excused herself to take the dogs out back to throw the ball for them. A tired dog was a happy dog, and she wanted them to be happy and content right now, given the upheaval they’d all suffered today. Some physical stimulation would be good medicine for them.
The sun had set long ago, but the large fenced backyard was well lit. There was a wide expanse of grass just off the patio, perfect for throwing, running and fetching. She set herself up at one end and threw two tennis balls over and over for Rex and Sadie, finding a minuscule measure of distraction and, therefore, comfort, in the repetitive task.
A strong breeze blew, rustling the large trees at the edges of the yard, and she could smell the scent of the ocean, though she couldn’t hear the crash of the waves on the shore a few blocks away.
She lifted her face to the breeze, somehow hoping it could cleanse her of the anxiety and despair nipping at the edges of her mind. After a few moments, Ally let out a cynical laugh; she knew better than to think that she could so easily rid herself of worrying about her uncertain future. Really, though, when had she ever had a certain future? Funny how just when she’d thought she’d finally captured that elusive dream, it had been snatched away from her.
All her dreams had gone up in smoke today. Literally. For what seemed like the hundredth time, tears rose and her throat burned. She kept throwing the tennis balls, forcing the tears back. She’d been dealing with crises since her parents had been killed in a car accident when she was eleven; she would not let this fire devastate her. She. Would. Not.
Not surprisingly, poor pregnant Sadie soon collapsed at Ally’s feet, panting. Ally bent down and scratched her rounded belly. “Don’t worry, girl. I’ll figure all this out. You’ll have your babies somewhere warm and cozy, I promise.”
Footsteps sounded on the patio. Ally turned and saw Drew coming out the back door. Putting on a brave face, she stood straight up, stiffening her neck, along with her upper lip. Better.
“You okay out here?” he asked, his hands shoved in his pockets.
Before she could reply, Rex ran up, snarling, his lip curled and teeth bared.
Acting fast, she stepped in front of the dog and held up a hand. “Rex, no!”
He fell back, his head down, a low, threatening growl still emanating from deep within him. She grabbed his leather collar to hold him still.
To his credit, Drew stood his ground. “Man, he doesn’t like me.”
She threw the ball to distract Rex, and he went after it. “I’m so sorry. He’s just trying to protect me. Maybe we’re going to have to work on some positive reinforcement.”
Drew cocked his head. “As in I let him get close enough to bite me?”
“Well, yes, but you’ll have a yummy treat that he wants more than he wants to bite you, and pretty soon he associates you with said yummy treat instead of perceiving you as a threat.”
“I’m going to have to think about that,” Drew said, scratching his shadowed cheek. “I’m not sure there are enough yummy treats in the world to change his mind.”
Rex came running back, and Ally again put herself between him and Drew. “Sit!” she commanded.
Thankfully, Rex sat, letting the ball drop from his mouth.
An idea occurred to Ally. She bent down and picked up the tennis ball, then held it out to Drew. “Why don’t you throw the ball for him, so he associates you with fun. All right?”
Drew took the ball, doubt reflected on his face. “All right, whatever you say.”
He threw the ball, hard, and Rex took off after it like a shot. The ball sailed to the farthest corner of the yard and landed in some bushes. Rex disappeared from view and nothing but the sound of him crashing through the underbrush echoed throughout the yard.
“Good throw,” she said. Must be that well-muscled upper body of his. Not that she was noticing. “That ought to keep him distracted for a while.” And her, too.
“Listen,” Drew said, shifting on his feet. He cleared his throat. “I just heard from the chief with...news.”
Her stomach dropped like a lead weight. Clear to China. All she could do was nod.
“And...I’m sorry to have to tell you that the house has been declared a total loss.”
Numb despair moved in a cold tide through her. She sucked in a shaky breath then swallowed and tried to keep unwanted tears at bay as best she could.
And just like that, there went her hopes for making it through this horrific day without losing it completely.
* * *
Drew saw Ally’s mouth tremble, and her eyes swam with moisture. He waited for the waterworks to start but, to his amazement, she didn’t let one of the swelling tears fall.
He swiped a hand through his hair. “I wish I had better news.” The last thing he’d wanted to do was come out here and tell her this.
“Me, too,” she said in a scratchy voice.
Rex ran up and dropped the ball at her feet, and she picked it up and threw the toy again. She watched Rex bolt across the yard as she worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do now.” She blinked fast several times, shaking her head. Still, no tears. She closed her eyes briefly, then straightened her shoulders. “But I’ll figure it out. I always do.”
Maybe he was reading things wrong, but it seemed as if she were used to handling things on her own. Had she had a choice about being self-reliant in the past?
Admiration for her strength spread through him, along with a healthy dose of curiosity. What had happened to make her so resigned to dealing with things by herself? In another time and place he would have encouraged her to look to God for help, yet lately he hadn’t even been doing that.
He kept himself from putting an arm around her while he told her everything would be okay. The idea of pulling her close tantalized him, setting his composure on a crooked angle that kept him off balance and slightly uneasy.
Sadie must have sensed Ally’s distress; she came over and sat at Ally’s feet, looked up and whined. Ally gave Sadie a quivery smile, crouched and buried her face in the fluffy toffee-colored fur on Sadie’s head. Ally sniffed and turned away.
Empathy welled up inside him, fast and strong. He shifted from foot to foot and looked at the ground for a second. “Uh, I’m sorry it turned out this way.” That certainly sounded lame, considering what had happened, but he’d never been good at offering comfort; it just didn’t come easily to him.
“Not your fault,” she said into fur, her voice scratchy. “You’re just the messenger.”
He nodded and kept quiet.
Rex came triumphantly bounding back with the ball in his mouth, ran in a circle and then dropped the toy about ten feet from where Drew stood by Ally and Sadie. After a moment, Rex sat and barked once, as if to say, Throw it, you dummy!
Automatically, Drew responded to the order and moved forward a few steps, his hand out. Rex swiftly stood, flattened his ears and bared his teeth, growling, his hackles raised.