Sea Glass Cottage (16 page)

“O-kay.” A hangdog Jonah sat back down, impatient with the turn of events.

Thane disappeared through the doorway and into the principal’s domain.

“Thanks for coming,” she said.

“Thanks for calling me. I won’t try to pretend I’m not upset because I am, especially since it involved an altercation with a much older, much larger kid than Jonah. I try to make sure I’m here every day after school to walk him home, mostly it’s to let him know I’m around, but if this becomes a recurring issue, you can bet I won’t miss an afternoon where I’m waiting on the sidewalk for him.”

“Mr. Delacourt, I don’t blame you for feeling that way. You should know Bobby Prather has a bit of a past. He got expelled last year from the San Sebastian school where he was enrolled for exactly the same thing. Here, Bobby’s been in trouble since the first day he walked through the door.”

“You’re telling me a second grader got expelled for using this kind of language about another boy’s mother?”

“Yes, and for egging on another student to fight. I’ve already informed the Prathers that if there’s another incident like this one, they’ll have to consider getting their son into counseling.”

“Let’s hope this was an isolated thing and the parents heed your advice, get the boy some help and this Prather kid gets the message.”

Later as father and son drove back to the restaurant, Thane quizzed Jonah. “Is there anything you want to ask me?”

“My mom wasn’t a whore.”

“That’s an ugly word, Jonah. I don’t want you using it, okay? Not ever. And no, your mother wasn’t that. She had problems. She got sick and she died because of those problems.”

“Drugs, right?”

At that moment, Thane wanted to wring the little playground bully’s neck himself. He didn’t like the kid who’d planted these ideas in his son’s head. But that sentiment wouldn’t do Jonah any good now. “Sometimes when a person is unhappy they resort to taking medication to feel better. Your mother was hurting so she went that route. It’s never a good solution and it always leads to other problems.”

“Did you ever take drugs?”

How was he supposed to answer that minefield of a question? To keep it simple, Thane lied. “No, and you shouldn’t either.” He switched gears again. “Jonah, this kid, this Bobby Prather, he’s done this same thing to other kids before.”

“So he’s just mean?”

“Yeah, and probably unhappy at home.”

Done with it for now, Jonah was the one who segued into another subject. “Can I have a puppy? I’ll take good care of it.”

Grateful for something else to discuss, Thane spared his son an eager glance. “You really know how to milk this for all it’s worth, don’t you?”

“I just want a puppy of my own.” 

Thane let out an audible sigh. “I guess we should go call Izzy and invite her along to check out those puppies Tommy has. Maybe she can help you pick one out. Whaddya say?”

“Really, Dad?”

“Yep. As I see it, it’s the only thing to do.” He picked up his phone, sent a text. “We’ll see if Izzy’s afternoon is booked.”

Twenty seconds later, the response bounced back.

“What did she say?” Jonah wanted to know.

“Looks like it’s a go. She’s free and would love to help you find the perfect dog.”

Jonah pumped a fist in the air. “Yay!! But Tommy’s still at school.”

“Then we’ll wait until school is out.”

At three-thirty the two were waiting for Izzy on the porch when she sailed up the Delacourt driveway on her bike. “Hey, guys. How’s it going?”

Bouncing on his toes, Jonah ran out to greet her. “We’re ready to pick out a dog.”

“You should get one too,” Thane pointed out with a wry smile. “You’d be less alone way up there on the hill. Just think how happy you’d be when the dog greeted you at the door every evening.”

“Hmm, there is that. But working on me ahead of time might be fruitless. Tommy might have only one left.”

“True. We’ll soon see. The Gates house is just around the corner on Cape May. We can walk and talk while Jonah figures out a name.”

“I’m gonna call him Leo.”

“What kind of dogs are these exactly?” Izzy asked.

“You mean breed?” Thane replied. “From what Archer told me when I called earlier, they’re all mutts of indeterminate origin, a product of his Labrador mix meeting up with the Campbell’s golden retriever.”

Thane caught sight of the rambler-style single-story house that looked straight out of the fifties. The grass had been cut. The shrubs neatly trimmed. It reminded him that Tommy’s father, Archer Gates, had moved back to Pelican Pointe from Fresno bringing his son with him. The forty-year-old had gone through a contentious and costly divorce. Archer’s mother, Prissie, had opened the door to her home so that her son and grandson could get back on even footing. Because of the breakup, Archer had been struggling with depression and alcohol. Tommy had been caught up in all of it.

Today, Tommy sat in the yard surrounded by four energetic furry balls of fluff and one adult female dog that looked on. Thane had a ray of hope Jonah might pass when none of the pooches turned out to be a black and white combination. But as he Thane had to concede though the adorable angle might prove to be too much.

“Hey, Jonah,” Tommy yelled from his position on the lawn. “These are the ones I have leftover. My gran’s been working on getting them housebroken. They’re really good about not pooping in the house.”

“There’s good news for anyone who’s ever tried housebreaking one,” Izzy announced. “That’s a huge plus in my book. You should snap one of these bad girls up, Jonah.”

Almost immediately, one in particular, the one with a soft gold and white coat, spotted Jonah and pounced. As Jonah squatted down to get a better look, the dog jumped up and began to lick his face. The boy rolled on the grass giggling at the liveliness of the pup. Completely captivated by the pooch, Jonah seemed to have forgotten about his previous stance on color preference.

“This one, Daddy. I want this one,” Jonah said, sneaking out a series of belly laughs. “This one’s Leo.”

“Uh, Jonah, that’s a girl dog,” Thane pointed out.

“Girls are all we have left,” Tommy informed them. “We had seven but the three males all went first.”

“Any backup names for a girl?” Thane asked his son. Maybe, just maybe, Jonah had his heart set on a male and would take a pass on these. But when the boy wrapped his arms around the dog’s belly and hugged tighter, Thane knew they’d be leaving there with a new member of the family.

“Then how about the name Jax?” Jonah offered.

Thane smiled, shook his head. “You sure about that? Jax still sounds like a male name…sort of.”

“I like Jax.”

“Jax it is then.” About that time Thane looked over at Izzy who was dealing with a lively puppy of her own nipping at her knees. The pooch shared her sister’s coloring and features but bore deeper shades of brown with swaths of white on her feet. “Whatcha got there, Isabella?”

She grinned and sat on her haunches. “I believe I’ve found the answer to my lonely nights.”

“Now that’s a shame but definitely a challenge if I ever heard one,” Thane said with a wink. “Looks like you two have bonded. You gotta name picked out?”

“I think I’ll call her Jazz.”

“Jax and Jazz. I have a feeling that’s a sister combo that spells trouble.”

“We’ll find out sooner rather than later if we don’t stop by the market and stock up on treats and food for both.”

“Good idea. I’m glad someone’s thinking clearly,” Thane said as he steered them toward Murphy’s.

Once he got
back home, Bobby hadn’t fared as well as Jonah. When he’d reached his house, both his parents had been in a snit. But then that was the usual atmosphere at the Prather house.

Life for Peggy and Greg Prather had become a bitter pill they both were forced to swallow daily. It seemed they’d accepted their acrimonious union as an everyday occurrence. They both knew they were in a rut but refused to do anything but disagree.

Peggy didn’t like her husband any more than he liked her. The two had long ago realized happiness was for other people and not for them. From the day they’d said “I do” until this very afternoon, everything had turned out wrong. Peggy made sure she reminded Greg how worthless he was and Greg returned the favor. Day in and day out, the same tune played and never changed.

Once upon a time, the daughter of a doctor from the Mission District in San Francisco, Peggy had rolled the dice and married a talented, but struggling design student. During those first months together it soon became clear she had neither the patience nor the commitment to stand by Greg until he got his art degree. When she’d become pregnant with Bobby, that fact had sealed the couple’s fate. Peggy forced Greg out of school and into the first of many menial jobs he took to pay the bills. Peggy didn’t care for the day-to-day struggle so she finally encouraged Greg to leave behind the high cost of living in San Francisco for some place more affordable. That move led them to Pelican Pointe.

Nothing over the years quite humiliated Peggy like the realization she’d hooked up with a man who couldn’t make enough money to support his family in the lifestyle she wanted and expected. The fact that everyone in town knew her husband was a failure seemed somehow even more of a crushing blow to her ego than anything else.

When it came to blame, Greg wasn’t that much different in pointing the finger. He grumbled about the jobs he did manage to find. Whether it was a stocker at Murphy’s Market or cleaning the cages at the veterinary clinic for Bran Sullivan, Greg groused about his lot in life. No matter how hard he worked, he never seemed to bring in enough money. Money contributed to ninety percent of the couple’s arguments.

Today was no different.

Angry about his low-paying jobs and his inability to work at what he loved, Greg had been the one to answer the phone when the school had called. Discovering his son was in trouble again had pissed Greg off. He didn’t like having to face Ms. Dickinson for the fourth time since school started about Bobby’s behavior.

“It’s your fault Bobby’s the way he is,” Peggy insisted, pointing a finger in Greg’s face.

“Oh really? All you can think about every single day of your life is yourself. ‘Why don’t we take trips, Greg? Why don’t we have a decent car, Greg? Why don’t you make more money, Greg?’ I’m sick of your bitching. I’m fed up with you. Maybe if you’d get off my ass for just one freaking day and not be such a bitter old hag, Bobby might not be such a problem.”

“Don’t you dare blame this on me, don’t you dare. You’re the one who can’t get a job and keep it. You know damn good and well that kid doesn’t like anything I do for him. You’re both draining me dry so much that I can’t think straight half the time. You can’t stand it because Bobby’s turned out just like you are—argumentative, aggressive and worthless. He’s just like his father.”

“Worthless? I’m out every day working two jobs. I stock shelves at night at the market and then I go shovel out crap from animal cages. You think I wanted to do that for a living? Think again. I’m gone all night long and today was my only day off. Instead of relaxing, how do I spend it? I have to go drag Bobby home from school because you won’t do it. He’s picking on some first grader and all you can think about is yourself. You sit here on your ass watching reality TV shows all day long, making sure you get your hair done once a week. If you’d stop buying useless shit for yourself you see on TV and take care of your kid more, maybe this family would be a lot better off.”

“Are you kidding me? Bobby never likes what I fix him for dinner. He gripes about everything I cook. He complains that he doesn’t have the toys that the other kids have…”

In his room, Bobby put his hands over his ears in an attempt to muffle the ugly words. While he listened to the accusations bounce off the walls, he just wanted to be somewhere else, anywhere else but in this house with these two people who hated each other and him. He was fed up with it all, which is why after an hour or so he decided he’d heard enough. He decided to do something about it.

He grabbed his knapsack, began to stuff the candy bars he’d hoarded down into it along with a can of Coke. He grabbed an empty plastic bottle and went into the bathroom to fill it up with tap water. He went through his dresser drawers, picked out an extra T-shirt and a pair of shorts, crammed both down into the bag. He found his sketch pad, the one where he liked to draw cartoon characters and opened the window.