“Sorry about that,” Scott said automatically.
“I forgive you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sam snapped. “It was just a kiss.” Before Tabby could reply, she turned to face him. “Yes.”
For a second Scott had no idea what she meant, then he grinned. “Yes?”
“Yes.”
And that was it. He had a date with Samantha DaSilva. Scott, scared he’d try to punch the air and hurt the puppy, put her back on the ground. She immediately gamboled back to her mother and siblings, her tiny tail wagging furiously. Despite the good news, he felt an ache in his chest. She wanted to go back. Only animal curiosity had brought her to him in the first place. He was being an idiot imagining she’d come over out of some ‘wand chooses the wizard’ desire to become his pet. She was an animal, an adorable, intelligent animal, but not one capable of navigating her own adoption.
“I’ve got a meeting at half-seven, I should get going,” he told the others. “Toby, thanks for having me over.”
All four of them said goodbye to the puppies and left the shed. Tabby and Sam said goodbye and though Scott wanted to kiss her, he accepted her wink and wave. “I’ll call you later,” he said as she walked away. “On your landline.”
“Leave a voicemail,” she said over her shoulder and, unless he was imagining it, she walked away with her hips swinging more than they ordinarily did.
“Well done,” Toby said, blushing furiously again. “About the um, kiss and the date and everything.”
“Thanks. How did you find Tabby?”
Toby shot him a terrified look and Scott laughed. “She’s full-on, isn’t she?”
“Yeah, and pretty.” Toby cleared his throat, looking more mortified than ever. “So were you um…did you maybe want to take a puppy?”
He did want to take a puppy, but he’d also just gotten the first girl he’d ever had a crush on to agree to a date with him. His hands were shaking, he was so happy—he shouldn’t be making any rash puppy-based decisions right now. “I’ll tell you what, if you tell your parents I’ll take the puppies, will that stop them from bumping them all off?”
Toby looked confused. “Yeah, but only for a little while. Why? Don’t you really want to adopt them??”
“I do, but I don’t know if I’m ready yet.” Scott pulled out his wallet and extracted all the money he had. He handed the notes to Toby, whose eyes widened. “This is way more than I’d sell them for.”
“I’m not buying them. It’s a deposit. Give it to your parents and see if it makes them a bit more lenient. Then put up some more ads online. I’ll help you, if you like. And if after four weeks, or whenever the puppies are old enough to leave their mother, you haven’t found anyone, I’ll pay for them to live in a puppy kennel until we find a place to stay. I can’t keep all six at my place, my landlord’ll freak his nut.”
Toby flushed. “You know, Mr Sanderson—”
“Scott.”
“Scott,” he agreed. “You can take her if you want her. I think it’s pretty obvious she wants to be with you, too.”
He shook his head. “It’s not that simple. I’ve got to do this properly. First Sam and then the puppy. Maybe. Now, let’s get going before your parents show up.”
Chapter 12
July 21, 2007
Sam was ather desk pretending to study, but was actually drawing a geometric square on her English practise essay. There was a knock at the door and her dad came in looking so somber, her first thought was that her mum had come back.
“Sammy, Elaine passed away.”
For a moment Sam was confused, her mind racing with thoughts of family court and custody hearings. Then what he was saying absorbed and she clapped a hand to her mouth. “Scott’s mum? She’s gone?”
“Yes, Sammy, she’s gone.”
Seeing his eyes were red, Sam stood up and hugged her father. For a long time they stood swaying, until her dad squeezed her tight and let go. “I’m going to go talk your sisters. Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she said, wondering why he’d told her first. Was it because she was the eldest? Or was it a coincidence? Surely it wasn’t because he knew about the pies. She’d been so careful about hiding the pies.
She walked to her window and her heart almost fell clean out of her chest. Scott was sitting on his bed, with his face in his hands, his sandy hair jutting over his fingers like a verandah. She pressed her hand to the dirty windowpane. She wanted to go and see him, make him less alone. She could open the window and call out to him, she could climb the tree that still connected them and tap on his window. And then what? Talk? She didn’t know what to say to someone whose mother had just died. But what else could she do for him?