The Dog Who Came for Christmas Page 9

Not like at home, he thought, where it seemed like everyone was angry about something. His mom and Grandpa were angry with Kieran’s dad for leaving; McKenna and Dylan were angry at their mom for treating them like babies; and everyone was angry with Kieran for . . . well, for being himself. No one yelled at him, or even said anything about it most of the time, but he could feel it all the same. It was why he’d agreed to join the program at school. Maybe, he thought, if he could stop being the way he was, then everyone else would be a little less mad.

  The dog had finally found the perfect spot. It plopped down next to Kieran and rolled onto its side, lifting its front leg a few inches in an inviting way. The boy reached out and began scratching its chest. Slowly, the dog rolled onto its back and closed its eyes, moaning happily.

  “I almost didn’t come in here that first time,” the boy said. “Mom and Grandpa always said it was dangerous in the woods, and Cody told me I’d never get out alive.”

  He scoffed.

  “Cody’s such a liar.”

  He reached for his backpack.

  “I brought you something.”

  Kieran unzipped the top and retrieved the brown bag that had held his lunch.

  “It’s kind of squashed, but it’s still okay to eat.”

  At the smell of peanut butter and jelly, the dog licked its chops. Kieran broke off a piece of sandwich, using the bag to keep from getting peanut butter and jelly on his fingers, and gave it to him.

  “I had peanut butter on Monday, too, but Cody pushed me into a locker on the way to the cafeteria, and I dropped it,” he said. “Then a couple of the other kids stepped on it.”

  Kieran reached up and touched the spot where his shoulder had hit the metal locker. When Mrs. Dalton asked why he didn’t have a lunch that day, he’d lied and told her he left it at home. It didn’t look like she believed him, but she just gave him the apple from her own lunch and told him to try and remember it next time.

  The dog whimpered and sniffed at his hand. Kieran tore the rest of the sandwich into pieces and set them down on the bag.

  “It must be nice to be a dog,” he said as it bolted down the sandwich. “If somebody pushes you around, you can just bite them.”

  He glanced over at the spot where the sandwich had been seconds before. The pieces had disappeared, and the dog was looking for any it might have missed. It gave the brown bag an experimental lick.

  “Hey, don’t eat that!”

  Kieran snatched the bag away and wadded it up.

  “Grandpa sure makes good sandwiches,” he said.

  As the dog continued to sniff the ground next to him, Kieran stuffed the bag into his backpack. Then he took out the ball of twine he’d brought from home and started unraveling it.

  “Did I tell you I met the school counselor on Monday? Her name was Dr. Joan.”

  Kieran casually set the ball of twine on the ground next to him and took out the pocket knife he’d hidden inside it.

  “She asked if there was anything that made me not want to count anymore, and I told her it helps when I talk to you.” He gave the dog a sidelong glance. “She said it was a good thing that I had a dog.”

  Kieran bit his lower lip. The dog was smacking its tongue against the roof of its mouth, trying to loosen the last of the peanut butter sandwich; it wasn’t paying attention to what he was doing. Slowly, the boy spooled out a length of twine—one long enough for a collar and leash—then cut it off and slipped the knife into his backpack.

  “Would you like to be my dog?”

  He made a slipknot at one end and gently tugged the loop until it was large enough to go over the dog’s head. Then Kieran slowly got to his feet. He didn’t want the dog to panic and run off before he could put the makeshift collar around its neck.

  “I’d have to ask my mom,” the boy said. “But maybe if Dr. Joan talked to her . . .”

  Sensing the boy’s heightened anxiety, the dog scrambled to its feet. Kieran reached out and murmured reassuringly, but the element of surprise was lost. Before he could slip the loop around its neck, the dog was out of reach.

  Kieran dropped the leash.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Please don’t go. It’s okay if you don’t want to be my dog. I just—”

  But the dog had made up its mind. Giving the boy a quick backward glance, it pushed through the secret entrance and ran away.

  “Bye,” Kieran said sadly. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

  CHAPTER 13

  Renee felt almost giddy as she set the table for dinner that night. Seeing Travis Diehl at the salon had been surprising, and having him ask her out for coffee even more so, but she was still amazed that he’d taken her to Mimesis. It was so sweet of him and so unexpected. Whether she took Pat up on her offer or not, she’d been touched that Travis would be so generous to someone he barely knew. It was as if a whole new world of possibilities had suddenly opened up for her. Missing her trip to the mall had definitely been worth it, she thought, even if Travis did only think of her as a “friend.”

  Wendell was serving up dinner, watching her from behind the stove.

  “What are you grinning about?”

  Renee tried to deflect the question.

  “Remember Debbie, the client Savannah told not to tip me? She came by the salon and left me a Christmas card with ten dollars in it.”

  He started scraping the mashed potatoes into a serving dish.

  “Ten whole dollars, huh? That’s what’s got you all giggly?” Renee shrugged, afraid that telling him about what had happened would undo some of the magic. Nevertheless, she knew her father. Once he sensed that something was going on, he’d hound her until she spilled her guts.

  “Travis Diehl came in for a haircut and asked for me specially.”

  “A man at Winona’s,” he said. “Boy, that is news.”

  Renee opened the refrigerator.

  “And he took me out for coffee at a cool place called Mimesis. They serve coffee and showcase local artists.”

  He smiled. “Ahhh.”

  “There’s no ‘ahhh’ about it, Dad. He knew I had a degree in art, and his friend owns the coffee shop. End of story.”

  She walked back to the table and started pouring the milk. This was exactly what she’d been afraid of. Now that she’d put it into words, the whole thing felt diminished—even trivial—compared to the fairy tale she’d conjured up. In spite of what she’d been telling herself about just being friends, she’d been thinking of it as a real date. Embarrassed now, she felt compelled to downplay the whole episode.

  “It was just two adults having a cup of coffee,” she said. “I’ll probably never see him again.”

  Wendell looked doubtful.

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

  He put the vegetables into a bowl and handed it to her. “Why don’t you call the kids, then? Dinner’s ready.”

  Having dinner together was the one inviolable rule in the Richardson household, a chance for the five of them to talk about their days and share any news—good or bad—about what was going on in their lives. It was a tradition Renee remembered fondly from her own childhood, something she felt was worth preserving—especially when so much else in the world had changed. With computers, video games, and social media vying for everyone’s time and attention, it was too easy for family ties to simply wither from neglect. Forcing everyone to spend at least a few minutes a day together felt like the least she could do.

  Of course, that didn’t mean that everyone else at the table agreed with her or even that the time they spent together was always pleasant. Depending on the season, Dylan sometimes showed up just long enough to shovel in some food before running off to practice or a meeting with his coach, and McKenna’s resentment over not being able to use her phone at the table was always simmering in the background. And although Kieran and her father were seldom rude, their contributions were often little more than grunts between mouthfuls, which meant that Renee sometimes felt like the host of
a bad variety show, trying to coax the best performance out of each guest. Nevertheless, most nights yielded at least a few nuggets of important information, and for that reason alone, she felt it was worth the effort.

  Everyone was hungry that night and little was said before half the food and all of the rolls had been eaten. Dylan gave a terse summation of that day’s classes while scooping up a second helping of mashed potatoes, and McKenna reiterated the need for a new pair of boots before her warm-but-unfashionable feet made her the laughing stock of Bolingbroke Middle School. Wendell’s day was condensed into a single sentence, and after intense prompting from his mother, Kieran admitted that the walk home from school was uneventful. That left a few minutes for Renee to share her news.

  “I heard from Uncle Jack today. He and Aunt Megan and the girls will be here on Tuesday,” she said. “Isn’t that wonderful?”

  “Is it?” McKenna drawled.

  “Oh, come on,” Renee said. “It’ll be fun. Remember when you were little, always wanting to play with the ‘big girls’?”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  “Well, consider it payback time, then,” she said. “Who knows? You might even enjoy it.”

  Kieran grimaced.

  “I don’t want them to come. Aunt Megan doesn’t like me, and Lilly cries all the time.”

  “That’s because Lilly was a baby the last time you saw her,” Renee said. “And don’t say Aunt Megan doesn’t like you, she does. She was just stressed out the last time they were here.”

  Wendell shot her a look that Renee pointedly ignored. The fact was, Megan hadn’t been very nice to Kieran the last time they’d visited, and it was anyone’s guess whether it was the stress of a new baby or something more that had been the problem. Either way, however, Renee was not going to poison their relationship by letting Kieran think that his aunt was biased against him. If everyone would just put aside their preconceived notions, she was sure that they could all enjoy a wonderful holiday together.

  “We’ll all have to make some sacrifices,” she said. “McKenna? Uncle Jack and Aunt Megan will be staying in your room, so you’ll be sleeping with me and using the master bath.”

  McKenna groaned.

  “And Kieran, the girls will be in your room, so you’ll be sleeping downstairs on Grandpa’s pullout couch and using the bathroom down there.”

  “Yeah!”

  Of course he was delighted, Renee thought. Sharing with Grandpa meant unlimited access to the television.

  “I’m finished,” Kieran said. “Maybe I be excused?”

  She nodded. Kieran put his dirty dishes in the sink and ran off to his room.

  “I don’t want to sleep in your room,” McKenna said, pushing a Brussels sprout around her plate. “Why can’t they stay in a hotel?”

  “Hotels are expensive, Mac, and we have the room,” Renee said. “Besides, it’ll be more fun if we’re all under one roof.”

  The girl let out a pained sigh.

  “Why do we even have people over if it’s going to be such a hassle?”

  “Be quiet,” Dylan said. “It’s only for a couple of days.”

  “Be quiet yourself,” she snapped. “Stop trying to act like a grown-up. You’re not Dad.”

  Dylan lowered his fork and looked at Renee.

  “Have you heard from Dad yet?”

  Renee took a deep breath. She’d been hoping to tell each of the kids privately when she tucked them into bed. She didn’t like having to give bad news at the dinner table.

  “I’m sorry, Dyl. Dad says he’s not going to be able to make it here for Christmas.”

  Dylan nodded resignedly, perhaps expecting the worst, but McKenna exploded.

  “What?” Her fork clanged onto her plate. “Why not?”

  Renee shook her head.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie, I know you’re disappointed, but your dad has a lot on his mind right now. It’s a difficult time for him. Caitlyn’s expecting a baby, and he doesn’t want to leave her alone.”

  “Of course not.” McKenna glanced in the direction of Kieran’s room. “He doesn’t want to take a chance on having another damaged kid.”

  “McKenna! That’s a terrible thing to say.”

  “It’s true,” the girl said, tears welling in her eyes. “Everything was fine until Kieran—”

  “Go to your room,” Renee snapped. “Right now.”

  McKenna threw her napkin on the floor and ran from the table, sobbing. Everyone flinched as her bedroom door slammed.

  Renee could feel the blood pounding in her ears. Yes, McKenna was being rude, but blaming Kieran for Greg’s departure was something they’d all done at one time or another. All she’d done was say it out loud.

  “I’ll talk to her later,” she said, “once she’s cooled down.”

  Dylan licked his lips.

  “Do you think Kieran heard her?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “But just for the record, your dad’s leaving had nothing to do with Kieran. He’d been”—she swallowed, not wanting to say too much—“he’d been unhappy for a long time.”

  Dylan nodded and stared at his plate.

  “May I be excused?” he said. “Coach wants us in the gym by seven thirty.”

  “Of course,” she said. “Go on.”

  * * *

  Dylan put his dishes in the sink and headed down the hall, feeling emotionally unsettled. The idea that Kieran had been responsible for their parents’ divorce was stupid—he’d known they weren’t getting along even before that—but McKenna’s other accusation had stung. The truth was, since their father left, Dylan did feel as if he needed to be more of a grown-up. Sure, Grandpa was there, but he indulged the other two more than their father had and left the discipline to their mom. As time went on, Dylan felt less like a kid and more like the man of the house.

  The door to Kieran’s room was ajar. Dylan rapped on it with his knuckles and pushed it open. His little brother was sitting at his desk, looking through the shoebox that held his hair collection. Dylan shook his head.

  What kind of kid collects hair?

  “Hey,” he said.

  Kieran didn’t look up.

  “Hey.”

  “You missed the fireworks. Dad’s not coming for Christmas, and McKenna threw a fit.”

  The boy shrugged. Either he hadn’t heard what their sister had said about him or he was choosing to ignore it.

  “I knew he wouldn’t.”

  “Yeah,” Dylan said. “Didn’t surprise me, either.”

  He looked around. Kieran’s room was so neat it was almost creepy. There was no art on the walls, no dust on the shelves; the books were all in alphabetical order, and the plastic animals had been grouped together by species. The kid didn’t even throw his dirty clothes on the floor! And no one but Kieran was allowed to touch anything, either, which meant that he spent a lot of time keeping things just the way they were. If his little brother hadn’t been so annoying, Dylan might even have felt sorry for him.

  He checked his watch. If he wasn’t at the gym soon, Coach would be making him run laps.

  “Look, I want you to be nice to the cousins while they’re here,” he said. “This is going to be a tough Christmas for Mom. We owe it to her to be extra good.”

  When there was no reaction from Kieran, Dylan shrugged and walked away.

  CHAPTER 14

  Savannah’s hands gripped the steering wheel as she drove to Winona’s. All through that afternoon, even as she pretended to listen to her clients, she’d been thinking about Travis and Renee. She might have laughed when Marissa warned her that there was something going on between them, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t taken the situation seriously. By the time her last appointment was through, she’d worked herself into a snit.

  After all I’ve done for her!

  This was a betrayal of the worst kind, she thought. Renee was biting the hand that had practically fed her and her family since they’d come to town. Without Savannah’s patro
nage, that woman would still be scrounging for work at the salon, sitting in the back room and hoping for a walk-in to come through the door so she could earn her keep. It took a special kind of person to stab someone in the back like that.

  At least she hadn’t given herself away to Marissa. If Savannah had let on that she was the least bit bothered about it, her old friend would have been quick to tell everyone in town. Then the vultures would really have started circling. If someone like that could turn Travis Diehl’s head, they’d say, just think how much easier it would be for them. Well, it wasn’t going to happen. If Renee thought she could just waltz into town and steal someone’s man, she had another thing coming.

  Savannah pulled into the parking lot, checking to make sure that Renee’s car was gone before she got out. It was Winona she’d come to see—the only one in this situation whose interests aligned with her own. After all, it was her salon’s reputation that was at stake. If the women of Bolingbroke got the idea that Winona would sit by while their men were lured away by one of her girls, she’d soon be out of business.

  The salon was nearly empty when Savannah walked through the door. There were no customers in the waiting area, and most of the girls had left for the day. She glanced over at the two remaining hairdressers—Tammy doing a blow out and Sissy a haircut—and wondered if either of them knew about Renee and Travis.

  Of course they did, she thought. Renee had probably crowed about it the second she came back to the salon, trying to make it sound as if the two of them might actually have a future together. Had these two believed her? Snickered when they heard the news? Savannah ground her teeth. It was too bad there was no way to get rid of them, too.

  Don’t get distracted. You’ve still got work to do.

  Winona was tidying up the waiting area. Savannah wandered over to have a little chat.

  “Hey, Winona.”

  Winona looked up and gave her a warm smile.

  “Hey, Savannah. What brings you in here at this hour?”

  “I was on my way home from work and thought I’d stop by to see if Renee had any openings next week.”

  “Well, Renee’s already gone, but I can check her book for you, if you’d like.”