had owned over the years, all the cute little fuzzy dogs, just like Sugar, who had worn bows in their hair and even toenail polish on their little claws, just like their three mommies, Katharine, Ruth, and Elizabeth, Brian's daughters.
Who had been the one to paint all of those tiny toes? Natalie hadn't had to wonder as Brian had told her all about his skills with toenail polish. The stories he had told about his past, about his life before grief, had been ones that she'd seen as vividly as though they'd been on a movie screen set to play in front of her. Brian, younger but not nearly as handsome, sitting on the bathroom floor with his daughters and their tiny dogs, singing songs and painting toenails.
She smiled even now, remembering this.
Just as her mind was going over the dogs of the past, all gone on to a greener pasture in glory, she thought about Boomer, Brian's labrador retriever. She was an old, familiar friend to the old boy now after all the time she spent at Brian's house, and she'd understood the appeal of a bigger, manlier dog for a bachelor who lived alone and liked the companionship.
She should've gotten a dog herself back when she was first widowed. But she wouldn't need to get a dog now, given that Boomer, who would soon be hers as well, was enough dog for two people... and given that Brian all by himself was companion enough for her.
"I wonder what Boomer is doing for dinner," she murmured, thinking of all the nights he sat at her feet waiting for scraps from her plate.
Brian grinned up at her. "I left him half a meatloaf, which he ate before I was even out the door to come and pick you up. He'll be going in and out through the doggy door all night now, which means he'll also probably have half the pool water drunk before dawn."
The girls stared at him.
"What?," he asked. "You two are looking at me like I've just grown a third head."
"It's the talk of a pool," Rachel said, grinning. "And Boomer. Whatever that is."
"Boomer," he told the girls, "is my dog. He's huge. And drooly. And the pool will be back in business this spring, so your grandmother and I will definitely have to host some pool parties, won't we?"
Natalie refrained from making some excuse as to why she would be hosting them with him as though she would be living there with him, which she would be, which no one here knew anything about, of course, and --
Oh, no one was even thinking anything either way.
Except Micah, who was staring at her. He tore his eyes from hers and looked to Brian. "I taught the girls to swim last summer. They very nearly drowned me in the process."
Natalie thought back to the vacation they'd all taken that summer, before Brian had been in the picture, when Rachel and Micah had invited her on nearly every vacation, not wanting her to sit around by herself at home. She'd go down with them to the pool every evening and watch as Micah, with both girls hanging from his neck in their princess-themed bathing suits and their little tulle skirts floating around them in the water, had managed to say, "Well, you're in the water, at least. Can you let go for just a --"
"No!," both girls had shrieked, strangling him even more.
Most men would have lost their temper after an hour of that, but Micah had remained calm and gentle, the perfect father to little girls.
Not so unlike Brian, actually. Natalie wished for a moment that her fiancé could have seen her son back then, behaving better than he was now.
Brian grinned over at Micah, likely imagining the scene anyway, even though he hadn't been there. "That sounds familiar," he said. "Had to teach my own daughters at the community pool, and I was always sure the authorities were going to be called out as it was always an issue of crying and carrying on like I was abusing them, simply because I expected them to be brave enough to dunk their heads into the
Who had been the one to paint all of those tiny toes? Natalie hadn't had to wonder as Brian had told her all about his skills with toenail polish. The stories he had told about his past, about his life before grief, had been ones that she'd seen as vividly as though they'd been on a movie screen set to play in front of her. Brian, younger but not nearly as handsome, sitting on the bathroom floor with his daughters and their tiny dogs, singing songs and painting toenails.
She smiled even now, remembering this.
Just as her mind was going over the dogs of the past, all gone on to a greener pasture in glory, she thought about Boomer, Brian's labrador retriever. She was an old, familiar friend to the old boy now after all the time she spent at Brian's house, and she'd understood the appeal of a bigger, manlier dog for a bachelor who lived alone and liked the companionship.
She should've gotten a dog herself back when she was first widowed. But she wouldn't need to get a dog now, given that Boomer, who would soon be hers as well, was enough dog for two people... and given that Brian all by himself was companion enough for her.
"I wonder what Boomer is doing for dinner," she murmured, thinking of all the nights he sat at her feet waiting for scraps from her plate.
Brian grinned up at her. "I left him half a meatloaf, which he ate before I was even out the door to come and pick you up. He'll be going in and out through the doggy door all night now, which means he'll also probably have half the pool water drunk before dawn."
The girls stared at him.
"What?," he asked. "You two are looking at me like I've just grown a third head."
"It's the talk of a pool," Rachel said, grinning. "And Boomer. Whatever that is."
"Boomer," he told the girls, "is my dog. He's huge. And drooly. And the pool will be back in business this spring, so your grandmother and I will definitely have to host some pool parties, won't we?"
Natalie refrained from making some excuse as to why she would be hosting them with him as though she would be living there with him, which she would be, which no one here knew anything about, of course, and --
Oh, no one was even thinking anything either way.
Except Micah, who was staring at her. He tore his eyes from hers and looked to Brian. "I taught the girls to swim last summer. They very nearly drowned me in the process."
Natalie thought back to the vacation they'd all taken that summer, before Brian had been in the picture, when Rachel and Micah had invited her on nearly every vacation, not wanting her to sit around by herself at home. She'd go down with them to the pool every evening and watch as Micah, with both girls hanging from his neck in their princess-themed bathing suits and their little tulle skirts floating around them in the water, had managed to say, "Well, you're in the water, at least. Can you let go for just a --"
"No!," both girls had shrieked, strangling him even more.
Most men would have lost their temper after an hour of that, but Micah had remained calm and gentle, the perfect father to little girls.
Not so unlike Brian, actually. Natalie wished for a moment that her fiancé could have seen her son back then, behaving better than he was now.
Brian grinned over at Micah, likely imagining the scene anyway, even though he hadn't been there. "That sounds familiar," he said. "Had to teach my own daughters at the community pool, and I was always sure the authorities were going to be called out as it was always an issue of crying and carrying on like I was abusing them, simply because I expected them to be brave enough to dunk their heads into the
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