Sea Glass Winter (16 page)

31

“Y
ou live above a vet clinic?” Matt asked as Johnny pulled into the driveway of the yellow house overlooking Shelter Bay. He was starting to feel like the only kid in town without a car, which really sucked.

“Yeah. But it’s soundproof, so it’s cool. And the living quarters are totally separated from my mom’s work. You know,” he said, “they’re going to make you choose a volunteer job at school.”

“Aimee Pierson told me. I guess she works at some doctor’s clinic on Saturdays.”

“Yeah. Dr. Parrish. She’s our family doctor and is pretty cool. . . . Anyway, do you like animals?”

“What kind of animals?”

“Dogs and cats?”

“Sure. I’ve always wanted a dog, but I’ve never been able to have one because my grandmother was allergic.”

“That’s the pits,” Johnny said as they got out of the Ford Escape crossover with
HARBORVIEW VETERINARY CLINIC
painted on the doors. “Maybe you can get one now. But meanwhile, maybe you might want to volunteer with me. Along with being a vet, my mom runs a no-kill shelter. Since she’s really picky about fitting the right animal with the right family, there’re always some dogs living there.

“I work Saturday mornings, cleaning the runs and feeding and bathing the animals. It sounds like scut work, but it’s actually kind of neat, because they’re always so happy to see you.”

Matt had already been trying to figure out what he was going to do. This sounded like a good possibility. “Maybe,” he said, thinking out loud, “if I found the right dog, my mom would be so happy I was doing something useful, she’d let me bring it home.”

“No sweat.” Johnny’s grin split his freckled face. “You find a dog you want, and we’ll get my mom on it. Because no one can resist her. She’s like a friendly bulldozer.”

At that moment, the bulldozer in question arrived home, pulling up beside them. “Hi, boys,” she called out as she jumped down from the driver’s seat, then went around to open the back passenger door. “How was practice?”

“It was okay,” Johnny said with a shrug as a little girl who looked about six climbed off her booster seat in back and came running toward them. Her shiny flowered raincoat was open, revealing a pink tutu and Tinker Bell T-shirt over bright green leggings. “I need to work on my shooting. Matt here is going to help me. This is Matt Templeton.”

“I figured that out,” she said with a warm smile that had
welcome
all over it. “You favor your mother.”

“You think?” He’d sometimes wondered, as he’d shot past his mother and grandmother in height, if he might look like his dad. Not that he cared.

“It’s mostly in the eyes,” she decided, giving him a longer look. “They’re a different color, of course, but they’re very similar. And expressive.”

Except for Dirk the Dickhead, everyone in Shelter Bay seemed really, really friendly. It was, in some ways, beginning to freak Matt out a little bit.

The little girl tugged on the hem of his jacket. “I’m Angel,” she piped up. Her huge grin revealed a missing front tooth. “I learned to do a
sauté
in dance class today. Do you want to see?”

“Sure.”

“Great!” With that she took off, doing circles of running leaps around the front yard, arms outstretched as if she was trying to fly, her pink boots making squishy sounds on the rain-soaked lawn.

“I met your mother today,” the vet said.

“Yeah. She told me.”

“It must be wonderful to have so much talent. If I hadn’t really liked her, I’d be envious.”

“You have talent with animals,” Johnny jumped in loyally. “She’s even better than that dog whisperer guy on TV,” he told Matt.

“My son exaggerates,” she said with a laugh, reaching out to ruffle his carrot red hair.

Matt would’ve died on the spot if his mom had done that in front of any guy he knew, but he figured since Johnny had been a foster kid, he was probably more grateful than a lot of kids might be. Kids like himself, he admitted, thinking that maybe he’d been tougher on his mom than he should’ve been. She had been trying to do the right thing. Even if she’d screwed up his life in the process.

“Some movie stars have bought her stuff,” he said, not wanting to seem to be lacking in family loyalty.

“I know. I was at a wedding where Mary Joyce gave a close friend of mine a lovely glass piece your mother made as a gift. You must be very proud of her.” She shared another of those warm smiles. “She’s certainly proud of you.”

“Matt thinks that maybe he might want to volunteer at the shelter,” Johnny said.

“We can always use an extra hand,” she said. “And it’d also be convenient for you to get to know the dogs, since your mother said she’s been thinking that the two of you could use one.”

“Really?” That was news to him.

“Oops.” She shook her head. “Don’t tell her I spilled the beans, okay?”

“No problem.”

He was going to get a dog? He hoped she wasn’t planning on adopting some foo-foo dog that she’d dress up like a doll. A lot of his friends’ mothers had ones like that back in L.A. Some even carried them around in their designer purses like accessories. He’d die if any of the guys saw him walking some fluffy puffball.

“How would you guys like a snack before you play?” She took a pink box from the backseat of her SUV. “I picked up some cupcakes.”

“From Take the Cake!” Angel said as she came leaping up to them and switched to spinning like a top. “This is my pirouette,” she informed them all. “But it’s hard not to get dizzy.”

“Did you get chocolate peanut butter?” Johnny asked his mother, catching his sister to steady her when she began to wobble.

“Absolutely. I wouldn’t dare come home without it, since it’s your favorite. But I also got a mix because Gabe likes the carrot, and although I got your text about bringing Matt home, I didn’t know what he’d want.

“You take Dancing Queen into the house before she gets so dizzy she throws up that lemon custard cake she ate at the shop,” she said, handing the box to Matt to carry. “I’ve got to run into the clinic and check on a cat I spayed this morning.”

“That’s so she can’t have any kittens,” Angel said, having to looking at Matt upside down because Johnny had thrown her over his shoulder, fireman-style. “Mama says there are too many homeless animals already. So we shouldn’t be adding to the population.”

“Makes sense to me,” Matt said as he followed them into the kitchen.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Angel was busy with a Disney princess coloring book while their mother began briskly getting things out of cupboards to start dinner. Which made Matt miss his grandmother. Not for the cooking, which he’d come to realize she was really good at, but just for the fact that somehow she’d been the one who’d made them a family. He knew his mom was his mom. And she was always the one who’d set down the rules about bedtimes and making sure he did his homework and stuff, but his grandmother had always seemed like the glue that had held them all together.

And now she was gone and he and his mom were getting tossed about in the same way that ship that wrecked beneath their small, ugly house must have been tossed before it crashed up onto the rocks.

But hey, they were getting a dog. He just hoped he’d be able to talk her into a real dog. Like a lab. Or a boxer.

They took turns shooting as they warmed up. Matt dribbled the ball twice, then put up a fifteen-foot jump shot that sailed through the net.

“I’m glad we’re not playing for money,” Johnny said after he tried to duplicate the shot five times, missing four of those attempts, one of which sent the ball rolling into a bed of winter brown bushes. “Because I’d be in a world of hurt.”

“It’s okay to miss. Even the great ones do. The trick is to make sure you’re still in place to make the shot when you do. . . . I’m going to try to miss, and you try to get the rebound, okay?”

“Ready.”

Matt stood at the end of the sports court Johnny’s father had built and drove toward the basket, throwing up a jumper that hit the rim. Before Johnny could even launch himself up to catch it, Matt had grabbed the ball in midair and stuffed it into the basket.

“He shoots! He scores!”

“That was amazing,” Johnny said.

“I was lucky.” Which was only partly true. The other part was all the hours he’d put in practicing controlling his own rebounds. “The trick is to never take your eye off the ball. That’s where you have an advantage over the other players.”

“Well, now that you’re on the team, I think the Dolphins are going to have an advantage over all the other teams in the league,” Johnny said.

As they practiced the rebounds from the left, right, and center, Matt felt an inner click. He was getting his groove back. And it felt really freaking good.

They were sitting on the front porch, waiting for Matt’s mom to show up, when Johnny said, “I saw you with Taylor today. At your locker.”

“Yeah.” Matt scuffed at a worn place on the steps. “She invited me to a party.”

“You know she’s having sex with Dirk, right?”

“So he wants everyone to believe.” Matt hadn’t liked the way the douche had treated her at lunch. She deserved better.

“Oh, she is. Totally. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’m just saying that he’s already pissed about you being on the team. And being better than him. You might want to tread carefully.”

“Thanks for the advice.”

“No problem.” Johnny was tossing the pebbled ball back and forth between his hands. “You ever have sex?” he asked casually.

“Sure.” When Johnny shot him a look, Matt decided that friendships, and this looked like it might turn into one, shouldn’t be based on lies. “Sort of. Not exactly. I got to second base.”

“Better than striking out,” Johnny said.

“You ever have sex?”

“Yeah.” His tone was flat, with none of the boast Dirk had shown off when he’d showed up late for lunch.

“Was it great?”

“No. One time was with an older girl in a foster home. I was thirteen; she was seventeen. I had no clue what I was doing and felt like a total failure when she laughed at me for lasting all of thirty seconds.

“My next time was two years later. With a stay-at-home foster mom. She’d call me in sick, and we’d do it while her husband was at work. It lasted about three months before I got moved to a different place. Looking back on it, I think my social worker had suspicions about all my excused absences from school.”

“Was she hot?”

“I guess.” He frowned at the memory. “At least she thought so.”

“Wow. That’s, like, every guy’s fantasy.”

“It’s probably better as a fantasy. Because in real life it pretty much sucked. . . . But here’s the only reason I’m telling you about it. Because the one thing those times taught me is that sex should be important. Any girl who’s willing to have sex with me someday is getting a flawed guy. A guy whose total sexual experience is pretty much humiliation, fear, and guilt.”

“I think most guys are probably afraid. At least the first time,” Matt said, wondering what the woman looked like and thinking that still didn’t sound so bad.

“Probably. But if it’s a first time for both of you, then you’ve created a memory. Maybe one you can build on. Maybe not.

“I’m not saying that everyone should do the promise ring, celibate thing. Just that the same way I suspect moms tell their daughters not to give themselves away too easily, it’s probably the same for guys. But nobody talks about it that way, especially guys in sports, because playing ball is all about being macho. But the one thing my dad has taught me is that being a man is also about respect. For other people, and yourself.

“Whew.” He blew out a long breath. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to give you a lecture. I was mostly wanting to warn you Dirk has pretty much claimed Taylor for his own this year. You might not want to get in the middle of that.”

“I appreciate the warning.” But Matt couldn’t deny that after the way the guy had tried to freeze him out of the team, taking his girl, even if they didn’t end up having sex, could be sweet. “Thanks.”

“Like I said, no problem.” They bumped fists just as Matt’s mom pulled up in the Lexus. Matt ran to the SUV, then paused after opening the door. “That thing you said, about the girl getting a flawed guy?”

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re wrong about that.”

Worrying that he’d just opened them up to a weird bromance thing, Matt climbed into the passenger seat and closed the door.

As they drove away, he looked back through the side window and saw Johnny, still sitting all alone on the porch, bouncing the basketball.

32

“So did you have
a good time?” Claire asked as she headed down Harborview, back toward the bridge.

“It was okay,” Matt mumbled. “His mom brought home cupcakes.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah.”

Could the conversation be any more strained?
Claire wondered. Next they’d be talking about the weather. Which would be rain. Rain. And more rain. Wouldn’t that be stimulating?

“She told me about the crabfest when she and the others dropped by today.”

“Sorry. I forgot about it.”

“That’s okay. It sounds like fun.”

“If you like crab.”

Which Matt always had. But apparently he was still determined not to like anything about Shelter Bay. “She also mentioned that she runs a no-kill shelter.”

“Yeah.” She felt him shoot a glance her way, but when she looked toward him, he quickly turned his head and stared out the window. “I’m thinking about doing my volunteer work there.”

“That’d be a great choice.”

Claire didn’t add that she’d feel more comfortable knowing that the vet and her husband would be keeping an eye on him. Heaven knows, having adopted two foster children, they must be accustomed to dealing with kids with issues.

“I was thinking,” she said carefully, her fingers tightening on the steering wheel, “that maybe we could adopt one.”

“A dog?” She could feel him looking at her again but this time kept her own gaze glued to the road.

“Yes. Unless you’d rather get a cat.”

“Cats are okay, I guess. But dogs are cooler.”

“I agree. I always wanted a dog,” she confided truthfully. “But Mom’s allergies ruled them out. I did have a goldfish for a while.”

“Which isn’t much like a real pet,” he said.

“No. It wasn’t.”

Another silence settled over them as darkness began to surround the SUV. But this one felt less strained.

“What kind of dog?” he asked.

“I haven’t really given it that much thought. When I was growing up, I always wanted a collie. Like Lassie.”

“That’d be okay.”

“If there’s one at the shelter, we might want to look at it. But I do wonder if all that fur would be hard to handle with our rain.”

“Maybe a short coat,” he suggested. “Like a lab. Or a boxer.”

“Two more possibilities,” she agreed. “Of course, we’ll want to look more at personalities than just focusing in on one breed. But I read on the shelter’s Web site after talking to you this afternoon that Dr. Tiernan-St. James has a degree in animal behavior and she makes certain that all the dogs she has up for adoption can, with a little love and kindness, settle in well.”

“So you’re not thinking about getting a little dog you can dress up?”

“I’d have nothing against a small breed. Or a mixed one, which the Web site said we’ll most likely end up with. But you’ve known me fifteen-plus years, Matthew. Have I ever seemed to be the type of person who’d put a dress on a dog?”

“No,” he said. “You’ve always been pretty normal.”

“Why, thank you.” She also sent up a silent thank-you to Charity Tiernan. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

Although he didn’t answer, she could feel the tension lessening even more.

Just wait until he got home, she thought with almost giddy anticipation.

Thanks to the floodlight Lucas Chaffee had set up with the basketball pole, Matt saw the addition the moment she reached the house.

“You got me a basketball rig?” His voice reminded her of how he used to sound on Christmas morning, when he’d come wandering out in his footed pajamas, all wide-eyed at the wondrous bounty Santa had left behind.

“Coach Dillon sent it over.” Wanting to leave the driveway free, since she had the feeling he’d want to try it out right away, she pulled up at the curb in front of the house. “Lucas Chaffee—he’s a local contractor who’ll be fixing up the house—put it up. He said when we get the house done, we can make a more permanent one.”

“This is just the coolest thing!” His grin reminded her of the old Matt. The bright sun around which her entire world had revolved for so many years.

As she heated up the braised short ribs Chef Maddy had supplied for their dinner, Claire listened to the familiar bounce, bounce, bounce of the basketball on asphalt, which brought her mind back to the man responsible for Matt’s happiness. While part of her selfishly wished she’d been the one to put that smile on her son’s face, Claire was relieved to see him so enthusiastic about anything again.

Although she hadn’t wanted to admit it, even to herself, she’d been afraid that if she couldn’t find some way to break through that tough shell he’d spent the last year building, he’d get himself into even worse trouble. It was a bullet she seemed to have dodged, at least for now, because of Matt’s coach.

Which brought her mind circling back, as it seemed to do so often, to Dillon Slater. . . .

Though she’d planned this move down to the last detail, the man had turned out to be one complication she hadn’t counted on.

“He can only be trouble if you let him,” she assured herself as she set the table.

So what if his deep voice strummed chords she’d forgotten even could be strummed? His Bambi brown eyes could stare down into hers until doomsday, sending as many enticingly sensual messages as they liked.

She was a grown woman, capable of making her own choices. And she wasn’t the least bit interested.

“When did you turn into such a liar?” She slapped the paper napkins onto the placemats with enough force to create miniature tidal waves in the water glasses. “But it’ll still be okay.” She placed the forks next to the napkins with more care.

Dillon Slater could become a complication only if she allowed him to be. For now, at this particular moment in time, with the mouthwatering aroma of braised beef wafting from the oven, and her son’s basketball bouncing on the driveway of her new, soon-to-be-renovated beach house, life was good.