The Sweetheart Rules Page 8

  The problem? Diana much preferred peace to chaos, and had spent most of her life veering toward peace and pretending the chaos didn’t exist.

  “I hate to put you on the spot, but is now a good time?” Mike asked. “I have about twenty minutes before I have to get the girls home.” He thumbed toward the door. “They’re in the car, one an eager visitor, one a hostile prisoner. Jenny is staging a sit-in, a protest against my existence.”

  Diana laughed. “I can relate to that. I’ve got one of those myself.”

  Jackson scowled.

  Mike gave him a good-natured jab. “Tell your mother it’s a teenager’s job to stage a protest against the world.”

  Jackson’s scowl turned into a shy smile and he gave Mike a little nod. “Yeah.”

  It was the first smile she had seen on Jackson’s face in a long time. For that, Diana was grateful, and hoped Mike would stay awhile. The man brought out a good side in her son, and that eased the tension in Diana’s chest. Mike might suck at relationships with women, and be the last man in the world to settle down, but he was a far sight better influence on Jackson than Sean had ever been.

  “Now is a great time,” Diana said. “I’m done with appointments for the day, and those kittens can always use a cuddle.” Plus being with all those kids and kittens would keep her far away from Mike’s mouth. His hands. And oh my, his other parts.

  “I told Ellie to wait with Jenny,” Mike said. “I didn’t want to bring her in if it was busy and—”

  “Daddy! Where’s the kitties?” Ellie poked her head into the room. “I wanna see kitties. Can I hold them? I wanna hold them. Is there a white one? I like white kitties.”

  Mike shot Diana a see-what-I-mean look, then turned to his daughter. “I thought I told you to wait in the car with your sister.”

  “Jenny told me my feet smell and I had to get out.”

  “I’m going to have a talk with Jenny. You two can’t be breaking the rules. Because rules are…” He gestured toward Ellie.

  She stiffened her spine and put on a serious air. “Rules are important and”—her nose wrinkled—“important.”

  He chuckled. “Okay, yes, but they’re important because people get hurt when you break the rules. You have to listen to me, and to Jenny.”

  Ellie’s face scrunched up. “Jenny says I’m smelly. Am I smelly, Daddy?”

  “Nope, not even a little.” He leaned over, caught a whiff of his daughter’s hair. “You smell like strawberries.”

  Ellie beamed. “I like strawberries.” Then she marched over to Jackson. “Do you like strawberries?”

  “Uh, yeah. I guess.”

  “Me too. Do you like kitties?”

  Jackson shrugged. “Yeah. But I like dogs better.”

  “I like kitties. Doggies are good but they lick me. And it tickles.” She patted Mary on the head. The golden sat there, patient as a priest, accepting the awkward attention. “Is this your doggie? She’s pretty. I like her.”

  Jackson’s face broke into a smile. If there was one way to her son’s heart, it was through that dog he loved more than life itself. “Thanks. Her name is Mary.”

  “Like Mary had a little lamb!” Ellie clapped her hands, then spun on her feet and marched up to Diana. “Where’s the kitties?”

  Diana bent down to Ellie’s level. “If you want to see them, you have to ask nicely, Ellie. Want to try that again?”

  Ellie dropped her gaze and toed at the floor. She was a cute little girl, if a little disheveled. Her hair hung in a lopsided ponytail that had lost more strands of hair than it held, and her neon floral tank top was a jarring combination with the green plaid shorts she wore. Clearly, Mike was in over his head with the little girls. Something Diana could relate to. Those early years as a single mom had been hell.

  “Can I see the kitties now?” A pause. Ellie’s wide blue eyes, so much like Mike’s, got even rounder. “Please?”

  Diana smiled. “Much better. And yes, we can go see the kitties. Why don’t you go get Jenny? I think she might like to see, too.”

  Ellie pouted. “Jenny’s grumpy.”

  “Nothing cheers a grump up like a kitten, trust me. Go ask her.”

  Ellie spun on her flip-flops and dashed out the door toward the car. “Jenny! Jenny!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. “Come see the kitties!”

  Mike let out a sigh. “She’s a handful.”

  “But an adorable one. I haven’t had a little one around in a long time.” Diana noted the stress on Mike’s face, the tension in his shoulders. She’d been a single parent long enough to know how tough it was—and to have the duty suddenly thrust on him had to be a rude awakening. She glanced over at Jackson, who was spinning the wheels on his board, with the angry attitude that Jackson wore every day like a threadbare coat.

  As much as Diana wished Mike Stark would just go away and quit popping up in her life, a part of her wanted him to stay, because when he was around, Jackson cracked a smile. When Mike had been here in January, he and Jackson had gotten close during the days he helped Mike make repairs to the shelter. Mike had been kind and patient with her son, and she’d done her best to keep her son unaware of the relationship between herself and Mike. Maybe part of his attitude was anger over Mike’s abrupt departure—something she had explained away at the time as the Coast Guard calling Mike back early?

  Either way, Mike seemed to have found a way to connect with her difficult, angry son, and to put a patch over Jackson’s constant bad attitude. Right now, that was more important than getting rid of the reminder of that one night.

  “If you want, we could trade kids for a bit,” she said to Mike. “I’ll take the girls, if you want to hang with Jackson.”

  “Nobody needs to hang with me,” Jackson said. “I’m not two.”

  “That works for me.” Relief flooded Mike’s face. “I feel like I’ve been through a war, only with Barbies and teddy bears swelling the ranks on the opposing side.”

  Diana laughed. “I’ll take that over puberty hormones and teenage attitude any day.”

  “Yo, I’m right here,” Jackson said. “Quit talking about me.”

  “Okay, I’ll give you a choice.” Diana turned to her son. “You can either change the kitty litter and help me with deworming, or you can hang out with Mike.”

  “Or I can just go home and watch TV. Who says I gotta help anyone?”

  “Your mother does. Who, I might remind you, is the one who pays for your cell phone and the roof over your head.”

  Jackson scowled. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he just shook his head and looked away.

  Ellie and Jenny came back into the shelter, Ellie bouncing and skipping across the threshold, Jenny dragging her feet and making aggravated faces. Clearly, Jackson wasn’t the only reluctant participant today. A ribbon of sympathy ran through Diana. After the rough time she’d had with Jackson, she could only imagine what Mike was going through.

  “Hey, Jackson, let’s go check on those repairs we made when I was here last time,” Mike said. “Leave the girls to ooh and ahh over the kittens. And maybe if we take long enough, they’ll change the kitty litter, too. Sound like a plan?”

  “Yeah, whatever.” Jackson let go of the skateboard, then called Mary to his side, and the two of them headed down the hall. Mike asked him about Mary, and how the other puppies from the litter were doing, which got Jackson engaged in a conversation that was devoid of the anger and frustration Diana normally heard. It was nice to see her son being an ordinary kid with someone.

  She told herself not to get too used to it. Mike would be gone as suddenly as he had appeared, and she wasn’t going to count on him being here to bridge this gulf. She’d learned long ago not to count on the men in her life, and she wasn’t about to change that now.

  As they turned the corner into the dog wing, Diana glanced at Jenny, who thus far had hung behind, silent, sullen, like a younger version of Jackson. She reminded Diana of herself when she was young, and angry
at her mother for the time she spent working with the dogs and cats, instead of coloring pictures and playing board games with her daughter. Diana had spent a lot of years with resentment, then realized the best way to spend time with her mother was to join her at the shelter.

  For years, Diana, Jackson, and Diana’s mother, Bridget, had had that bond together, that shared loved of animals. Then Bridget had died, the shelter had fallen into disrepair, and just as Diana was reconnecting with Jackson, his father had popped into their world like a grenade, and Diana had been trying to rebuild the connection with her son ever since.

  Diana could see and understand the cold war between Mike and his daughters, particularly with Jenny. Maybe she could help ease some of that tension, the same way she’d done it when she’d been young.

  “Her name is Cinderella,” Diana said, gesturing toward the dog Jenny had stopped to look at. “My sister found her on the side of the road a week ago and brought her in.”

  Jenny fingered the clipboard hanging from a hook beside the kennel. “Nobody came to claim her?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I wanna see the kitties,” Ellie said. “I like kitties more than doggies.”

  “Wait a sec, Elephant.” Jenny bent down and wriggled her fingers through the chain-link and gave the dog a tender rub on the nose. Cinderella licked Jenny’s fingers, and the young girl giggled, actually giggled, like the eight-year-old she was. “She likes me.”

  “That’s because you’re nice to her. Dogs can sense when someone is nice, and when they do, they’re eager to make friends.”

  Wistfulness washed away the smile on Jenny’s face. “She’s so cute. Maybe someday I can have a dog like her.”

  “And a kittie for me,” Ellie said.

  Diana recognized that love for animals, that need for the warm, unconditional love of a pet. It was why she had three dogs of her own and would take every last one of these animals home if she could. For whatever reason, Jenny couldn’t have a dog or cat at her house, but maybe Diana could provide the next best thing while the little girl was here. “I have an idea. Until you can get a dog of your own, why don’t you come here and play with Cinderella? Shelter dogs need lots of attention, but our volunteers and staff are so busy we can’t give them all the love they need. You’d really be helping me out, and I know Cinderella would love the extra attention.”

  “Really?”

  Jenny’s eyes were wide with hope and trust, the kind of look Diana had seen a hundred times in the pets in her care, the one that said, Please don’t hurt me, because I’ve been hurt before.

  It made Diana wonder about Jenny’s mother and father. Who had broken this little girl’s heart and made her so wary and so tough? Jasmine? Mike?

  “Yes, really,” Diana said softly. She wanted to wrap Jenny in a tight hug and promise her that everything would be okay from here on out. But she couldn’t make that promise, as much as she wanted to. She fished in her pocket, pulled out a business card and pressed it into the little girl’s hand. “Any time you want to come over here, give me a call. Okay?”

  “Okay.” A smile winged across Jenny’s face and she pressed the card to her chest. “I will. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, sweetie.”

  Ellie tugged at Diana’s hand. “Can we go see the kitties?”

  Diana laughed. “Okay, okay, you’ve been a patient girl. Jenny, why don’t we take Ellie to see the kittens? Then we’ll come back and spend some time with Cinderella. I promise.”

  Jenny nodded and gave Cinderella one last pat good-bye, then the three of them headed into the cat castle, as it had been dubbed. One large glassed-in room for the older cats to climb and sleep and sun themselves, which sat beside a smaller glass kennel that had been converted into a cozy space for the mama cat and her kittens. They were about six weeks old now, curious and active, tumbling all over each other and their poor beleaguered mother.

  “What’s their names?” Ellie asked. “Can I hold them? Can I kiss them? I love them! I want to keep them!”

  Diana laughed. “One thing at a time. They don’t have names yet, and yes, you can hold them, but you have to be very quiet and good, so you don’t scare them or upset Momma Cat. Can you be quiet and good?”

  “Uh-huh,” Ellie said. Her face was serious, her demeanor shifting from bouncing excitement to restrained eagerness in an instant. Her little hands clenched at her sides, and her thin frame quivered with anticipation. “Am I being good now?”

  “Yup, good job.”

  As soon as the three of them entered the oversized kennel that housed the kittens, the kittens started mewing and prancing over their feet. Seconds later, Jenny was on the floor, covered in kittens. The smile blossomed into a laugh, and by the time Diana had waved Ellie into the room, Jenny had dropped the tough-girl facade. She held a kitten to her face, nuzzled its black-and-white furry body, and giggled again when the kitten placed its front paws on Jenny’s chin.

  Diana stepped back, watching the two girls and listening to the rise and fall of their happy voices. Momma Cat, maybe grateful for the break from her rambunctious kittens, kept a wary eye on the girls for the first few minutes, then curled into a ball and fell asleep.

  “Thank you.”

  The deep timbre of Mike’s voice, coming from just over her shoulder, sent a hot-cold shiver down Diana’s spine. She inhaled and drew in the tantalizing and familiar scent of his cologne, something woodsy and dark, mysterious, like him. She steeled herself before turning to face him. “You’re welcome. But it was nothing, really. The kittens need interaction and—”

  “They’re laughing,” Mike said softly. “Smiling. I haven’t seen that… well, in forever.”

  “Nothing cheers up a grump like a kitten,” she repeated.

  “Or a smile from a beautiful woman.”

  The smile curved across her face, settled in her heated cheeks, before Diana could remind herself that she wasn’t falling for Mike again. She already knew where that road led, and only a fool took the same wrong turn twice. She cleared her throat, erased the smile. “Where’s Jackson?”

  “He’s making a list for me. I noticed that you hadn’t finished the repairs on the back of the building. I thought, since I’m going to be here for a while, that maybe I’d finish some of those for you. You seem a little crowded in here, and could probably use the extra space.”

  “Our repair budget only went so far, so we did the most critical areas first. You’re right, though. We could really use those additional kennels at the back. I’ll take any help you’re offering, if…”

  “If what?”

  She came out from inside the kennel and closed the distance between them, lowering her voice but holding his gaze. “If you’re going to be here long enough to finish what you started.”

  Nine

  Greta pretended to be busy pinning together quilting squares while she waited for Olivia to arrive at work. Her granddaughter-to-be worked as an animal-assisted therapist at Golden Years, a job that brought a lot of smiles to the residents whenever Olivia and her little dog Miss Sadie stopped by.

  Beside Greta, Esther and Pauline sewed and chatted, Esther as happy as a pig in mud to have participation on quilting day. Greta had her coffee cup of Maker’s Mark beside her, but didn’t drink. She wanted a clear head at a moment like this, when she was working hard to bring a plan to fruition.

  Her daddy used to be that way, too. He’d sit at the table, with his snifter before him, twirling the glass between his palms. He’d tell Greta he was working things out in his head, whether it be which plants to set in the garden that spring or the best way to tell Momma that he wanted to take the weekend to go fishing, and when she’d hear the clink of ice in the drink, she’d know her daddy was done thinking and the world was set to rights again.

  Greta was still thinking on things, feigning stitching moves just to keep Esther and Pauline from distracting her with their sewing chatter, when Olivia walked into the morning room at Golden Years. Miss
Sadie pranced along beside Olivia in her usual Diva Dog red jacket. Greta had already snuck a peek at Olivia’s schedule this morning—when she’d distracted the duty nurse by having Pauline fake a coughing fit. That had given Greta just enough time to duck behind the desk and flip through the scheduling log.

  She had fourteen minutes until Olivia’s first appointment. Just enough time to put the first wheel of her plan into motion.

  “Good morning, ladies,” Olivia said. Pauline and Esther greeted her in return, then went back to their quilting, Esther as serious as a schoolmarm about the baby blue quilt she was putting together for a grandchild on the way. Pauline just went through the motions, her attention on Greta and Olivia. Greta had had to tell Pauline of her plan earlier—she needed that distraction, after all—and now Pauline was waiting like a teenager on prom night to see what happened.

  Olivia leaned over and pressed a kiss to Greta’s cheek. “And what are you up to this morning, Grandma?”

  Greta liked the sound of the word Grandma coming from Olivia. Liked Olivia very much. She was the perfect addition to the imperfect Winslow family. “Me? I’m not up to anything.”

  Olivia laughed. “Uh-huh. Then why are you quilting? You hate quilting.”

  “Shush. Don’t say that out loud. Esther might hear.”

  Esther kept her head down, intent on her whipstitching. “I already did hear. There are days when I wonder why you joined our quilting club, Greta.”

  “Because I love your company, Esther. And because it gives me something to do besides watch The Price is Right.”

  “Well, if that’s the case, then one would think you’d do more quilting at quilting club,” Esther said.

  “I would, but you know I got the arthritis in my hands.” Greta held up her hand, bending the fingers and faking a wince. “Awful bad. Maybe you should quilt for me, Esther, what with your amazing dexterity and talent for patterns.”