“Daddy, let’s invite her to our picnic,” Ava said, ignoring me and petting Freddy. “Bailey, too.”
I hurried to shake my head, but Will frowned at me. Normally a man frowning at me in my state would have sent me cowering, but it was more of a caring frown, if that was a thing.
“Why not?” he said breezily. “We were going to get bagels, but the deli we go to has everything. I’m sure they have something the dog would like.”
My stomach growled again, and my pride was weakening.
“Please come with us,” Harrison urged. “We want to keep playing with Freddy.”
I couldn’t hold out any longer. Freddy really did look content for the first time since we’d been at the domestic violence shelter, leaning against Harrison’s shoe with his tongue lolling. I knew he didn’t like getting shuffled around between strangers, while I was at work, and the shelter itself wasn’t exactly peaceful. I looked at Will and, when he nodded encouragingly, I finally agreed.
My heart swelled when the kids cheered. Then Will laughed, and it melted. Good God, I needed to get my blood sugar in order. The hunger was clearly making me have strange thoughts. Will offered me his arm while we walked the block to the little gourmet deli. The prices for everything were staggering and the thought of spending most of my night’s wages there instead of scrimping at a grocery store made me scramble for an excuse to escape. But I didn’t want to escape, not with Ava keeping a firm watch over Freddy when I put him in my bag to go into the deli. She was clearly smitten with my dog, and the way he stared at her with his ears perked up, I could tell the feeling was mutual.
Will breezed past me and ordered a bunch of different bagels and toppings, sandwich fixings, a few salads, and four slices of carrot cake. My favorite. Once again, I started foolishly thinking about fate.
“That all sound good?” he asked, handing over a card to pay.
He’d seamlessly saved my pride for me, and I blinked back tears. Tired and hungry and hopeless. I was a mess, and all I could do was nod.
“Sounds great,” Harrison answered.
We walked back into the park and found a spot to sit on the grass in the shade. The kids took turns playing with Freddy in between bites. I finally got dizzy watching them jump up and down and snapped my fingers for Freddy to lay down next to me.
“Why don’t we concentrate on eating first, then you can play with him,” I suggested.
I looked at Will to see if I’d overstepped, but he certainly wasn’t saying anything to them about their wild behavior. He looked at the kids warily, then relaxed when they settled down and tucked into their breakfast. According to Harrison blurting out that they didn’t have a mom, I had to assume he was a widower. I wondered how long ago it had been. He still wore a wide wedding band. My heart ached for all of them.
The foster family I aged out of were kind people, and we still kept in touch even now that I was twenty-six, but I wouldn’t want to burden them with my current mess. I was about Ava’s age when I went into the system and barely remembered life with my biological mother. I could relate to the sweet little girl, and my heart went out to all three of them. At least Ava and Harrison still had their dad, and it was clear how much he loved them despite how lost he seemed. I had an overwhelming urge to help care for them and took a big bite of carrot cake, so I wouldn’t blurt out something stupid. It had to be my sorry state that was making me so emotional over some kids I just met. And Will’s incredibly handsome face and sweet concern for me weren’t helping me think straight, either.
When the kids were done eating, they asked if they could play with Freddy, and I handed over his toy cardinal.
“Remember to take turns and don’t step on him,” I said as they trotted off with Freddy at their heels.
“Okay,” they called back.
I watched Will watch them play. Each time Freddy brought his toy back to them he seemed to stiffen up, and then relax again when one of them threw it. He looked at his watch and then at me, his mouth open in disbelief.
“It’s been six minutes without them brawling,” he said.
I laughed. “Is that so astonishing?”
He clamped his mouth shut. “No, not at all,” he said quickly. “They’re great kids.”
I noticed the toy got stuck in a shrub that was too high for either of them to reach, so I hurried over to free it. Ava said it was her turn, but instead of letting her throw it, I showed her the tricks he could do. Freddy was a real ham and ate up their delighted laughter when he held out his paw to shake, rolled over and then walked a few steps on his hind legs. They clamored to try to get him to repeat the show, so I showed them how to do the commands. They pummeled me with questions, like how old he was, what kind of dog, where I got him.
“He’s five, he’s the best kind of dog, a mutt, and I got him back in South Carolina, where I’m from. He was only as big as my hand and his mama di—” I stopped, then cleared my throat. “I fed him with a bottle until he got big and strong like he is now.”
Harrison snickered because my dog weighed about seven pounds. Ava hugged him a little too hard but then remembered and softened her grip. “We’re the same age, like twin sisters.”
“He’s a boy,” I reminded her.
She frowned. “But I already have a brother.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at how serious she was, and she scowled at me, offended. “You’re lucky you do,” I said. “You don’t need a dog brother or a sister, but he can be your friend, how about that?”
Her brow smoothed, and her frown melted. She kissed the top of Freddy’s head. “I bet he’s a very good friend.”
“He’s my best friend,” I said honestly.