Loving Again(35)
“They won’t hate you on sight but the dog park’s a great idea. Jack wants a dog so bad he can taste it but their stepdad has serious allergies and I won’t have one shut up all the time because of my hours. He’ll love Chihuly.”
The following Saturday Amanda sat on a bench in Normandale Park, her dog at her side. She wasn’t sure who was antsier: her about meeting the boys or Chihuly because he was being made to stay while all the animals around him were chasing balls and Frisbees. But Amanda wanted him with her until Sam and his sons arrived.
She didn’t get her way. At about the time Sam said they’d be there, Chihuly’s ears perked up and, slipping out of Amanda’s control, he took off running. When he ignored her calls to stop, she gave a long, sharp, shrill whistle and he came to an abrupt halt at the feet of two boys and a man who looked at Amanda in amazement.
“Christ, who knew you could do that?” Sam said as he circled her shoulders with an arm and kissed her.
“Sorry. Chihuly must have heard your voice. I didn’t. That’s the emergency signal that always makes him stop.”
“Him and everyone else in the park.” Sam gestured to the two boys. “Amanda, this is Sammy and this is Jack. Boys, this is Amanda St. Claire. And you’ve already met Chihuly.” Sammy put his hand out to shake hers and looked at her with his father’s brown eyes and serious expression. Jack had knelt to get to Chihuly’s level and barely acknowledged the introduction until Sam asked him to stand up and be polite.
After his “hello,” Jack said, “He has a funny name. What kind of dog is he? He’s wooly, kinda like a sheep.”
“He is, isn’t he?” Amanda said. “He’s a curly coated retriever. And he’s named for a glass artist who has curly black hair.”
“Does he do tricks?”
“He sits and stays although not today, I guess. And he fetches and rolls over. Mostly he likes to play Frisbee.”
“Can we play Frisbee with him, Dad?” Jack asked.
Sam glanced at Amanda who nodded. “The Frisbee’s back at the bench. I’ll get it.”
Sammy decided he didn’t want to play, so Sam and Jack went off to entertain Chihuly — or vice versa — while Sammy sat on the bench beside Amanda. He stared straight ahead, legs swinging, saying nothing.
After a few moments, Amanda said, “You look even more like your dad in person than in the photos he’s shown me. Do many people tell you that?”
“Yes.”
“Does Jack look more like your mom?”
“I guess.”
“And do I remember right that you’re ten and Jack is seven?”
“Yes.”
“Does this feel as awkward to you as it does to me?”
No response although she was sure she knew the answer.
“Okay, how about you ask the questions. Surely there’s something you want to know about me.” Amanda faced him, trying to read his expression.
“Are you going to marry my dad?” he asked without turning toward her.