Seana Kelly - Welcome Home, Katie Gallagher

A furry lick on my cheek made me open my eyes. I grinned up at him and then shot to my feet, backing up quickly. “No. Wait. You promised!” He started to shake, sending water flying. Within seconds I was drenched and sputtering, water dripping off my face. Chaucer laughed at me, as only dogs can when they know they’ve gotten you good.

“All right, funny boy.” I attached his leash. “There’s a sunny park across the street. After we dry, we’ll go eat. Okay?”

Agamont Park was alive, tall trees showing their fall colors, a bright white gazebo overlooking the harbor, an ornate fountain surrounded by benches. I looked with longing at the mothers and small children playing near the fountain. I wanted children. I wanted them so badly it was an ache that seemed to crush me some days. Justin had refused, had been refusing for years. After one particularly ugly confrontation on the topic, I’d been informed that he had no desire to watch me get fat and that I hadn’t convinced him that I could be entrusted with the care of a child. Perhaps with a nanny...

I’d adopted Chaucer the following week. Justin was angry and indignant that I would do something so ill conceived and irresponsible. Poor Chaucer had had to deal with my babying while Justin had wavered between pretending Chaucer didn’t exist and railing against the dog hair on his slacks.

I lay down in the soft grass, Chaucer reclining next to me. I secured his leash under my butt and then around my arm so if he got any ideas about chasing squirrels, he’d have to drag me with him. I watched a red dragon kite trace a figure eight in the sky before multiple sleepless nights finally caught up with me, and I dozed off.

A throat clearing woke me a little while later. When I opened my eyes, a large black shape loomed, silhouetted against the sun. I flinched and shaded my eyes, squinting against the glare. I felt a tug on my arm. I looked up and found Chaucer standing behind me.

“Ma’am, we received a report of a vagrant with a large bear frightening small children.”

I knew that deep rumble. “Seriously? You’re rousting me again?”

He squatted down so I could see the glint in his eye. “Did you shower in your clothes?”

Chaucer responded by sniffing Aiden’s ear, and I’ll admit it—if you’re not prepared for it—it can be an odd experience. Let’s just say that Aiden wasn’t prepared. He flinched, losing his balance and ended up dumped on his ass. It made me smile. “Good boy,” I said, ruffling the fur behind my baby’s ear.

Aiden pulled his sunglasses down his nose, his narrowed gaze studying me over the rims. “You make a habit of napping in public parks, ma’am?”

Today was just getting better and better. “Have we not discussed my feelings about being addressed as ma’am? I’m pretty sure we have. And does your doctor know you’ve gone off your lithium? Regular use of the proper medication can make these mood swings a thing of the past.” I stood and adjusted Chaucer’s leash. “Officer, you have a good day now.”

Something inside me rebelled against the idea of turning tail and running. No more fear-based decisions. I was divorcing constant disapproval. I didn’t need to invite more in.

He stood, still staring at me over his dark lenses, a strange expression on his face.

“Let me ask you something,” I said. “Was this necessary? I’m pretty sure I wasn’t breaking any laws here. Couldn’t you have just said, ‘Hi, Katie, how’s it going today?’ Are you under the impression that I miss the disdain, the mocking?”

Hurt flashed through his eyes before he pushed the glasses back up his nose into place.

“You’re wrong.” I turned around and made my way across the park and up Main Street. I chanced a look back as I crossed the road. He still stood in the park, his hands at his hips and head bowed.

It’s number one on the list for a reason—no men. They’re nothing but trouble.

As I continued back through town, I knew it was still a jewel—sidewalks bustling, people browsing and sightseeing—but it had lost some of its luster. We walked toward the car and the vacant restaurant. What was I thinking? I didn’t know the first thing about opening a diner or running a business. Stupid.

We’d almost passed it when I noticed the front door was ajar. I pushed it, and it swung open freely. I’d planned to close the door, make sure it locked, but I was drawn in. Instead of doing a good deed, I decided to trespass. Just more of my good decision-making skills at work.

“Hello?” I waited a moment. “Is anyone in here?” I stepped forward, Chaucer at my heels. “You left the door open. Hello?” Chaucer didn’t see the need to stand by the door, so when he tugged at the end of his leash, I dropped it, letting it slide along the floor behind him.

I followed my pup’s lead and wandered in. The space was empty but completely realized in my mind. I stood in the middle of the room, looking out the big, front windows, imagining that this would be my view every day. I’d cook back there, bring plates of food to people seated around this room and occasionally I’d pause, right here, to gaze out the window and watch the world of Bar Harbor stroll by.

Looking up, I imagined adding tin ceiling tiles, painting them a soft white, with a large, crystal-laden chandelier hanging in the center of the room. Black wrought iron tables and chairs, reminiscent of a Parisian café, and dark, red leather high-backed benches lining the walls completed the picture.

I was just settling into the daydream when I heard a shout from the back. Chaucer trotted toward me from the kitchen area, looking innocent and just as confused as I was by the shout. “Yeah, not buying it for a minute, buddy.”

I took a tentative step forward, unsure if I should apologize for trespassing with my big, scary dog or run like hell before anyone saw me. I heard heavy footsteps and a deep voice grumbling. Chaucer didn’t seem at all concerned, so I stayed where I was.

A huge mountain of a man walked out of the kitchen, stopping short when he saw us. He appeared to be close to my age, with short brown hair and golden brown eyes. “Oh.” He scratched his head. “I thought I saw a bear cub.” He leaned down, extending a hand for Chaucer to sniff. “This makes more sense.” He looked over at me and stared. “Well, hello.” He grinned and his face lit up. Dimples. My kryptonite.

23) If at all possible, find a hunky guy with dimples for making out.

“Sorry. I saw the door open, and I intended to close it, but then, well, it just looked so cute in here. I wanted a closer look. I’m really sorry we barged in and that Chaucer startled you.”

He crouched down, giving Chaucer a good strong rub. “Is that your name, buddy? Chaucer? Now, this is a good-sized dog—my size.” He whispered, “Those little, yappy ones make me nervous.” Standing, he extended his hand to me. “Bear.”

I shook it. “Bear?”

He shrugged broad shoulders, and a faint red tinge colored his cheeks. “Levi Berenson. My friends just call me Bear, for obvious reasons.”

“Kate Gallagher.” I was getting a crick in my neck from looking up at him. He had to be at least six and a half feet tall and was built like a linebacker.

“It’s nice to meet you and Chaucer.” He studied me. “So, what brings you in? Were you looking for someone?” He stepped away from me so I didn’t have to strain to look up.

“Nope. Just being nosy and daydreaming.”

He tipped back on his heels, nodding. “I have a healthy respect for daydreaming. I’m a contractor, and without daydreams, I’d be bored stiff most of the day.” He turned toward the kitchen. “Come on, then. You should see it all.”

I followed him back. Oddly enough, it never occurred to me to be nervous around a man who could break me in two without even trying.