Practicing Parenthood Read online

  “Because we need to talk.”

  Before Madison could answer, the shaggy yellow dog barked. He looked like some dog experiment gone wrong. His poofy, curly yellow fur hung in his eyes, and his shaggy coat made him look, at a guess, part poodle and part sheepdog. Or maybe part golden retriever. The little guy had big floppy ears and a long fluffy tail that curled up like the feather on a musketeer’s hat. He wore no collar, and bits of leaves and brush were poking out of his thick fur. Collin had never been much of an animal person—living with a single mom in the Bronx meant he’d never had a dog growing up. His mother barely had enough money to buy them food, much less food for a pet. Collin had spent most of his childhood convincing himself he’d never wanted one, anyway. He studied the dog with suspicion.

  Madison, however, leaned down and ran her hands through the dog’s furry head, scratching him behind the ears.

  “Who’s a good boy?” she said. “You look just like a teddy bear.”

  “If a wolf can look like a teddy bear,” Collin grumbled.

  She continued to rub the dog and his back foot instantly began bobbing, as if he was trying to scratch an invisible itch.

  “Aw, you’re adorable, yes, you are.” Madison’s voice went high and baby-like, and Collin felt a stab of jealousy. Why did she like this strange little stray mutt more than him?

  “He probably has fleas,” he said, noticing how much the dog seemed to appreciate being pet nearly anywhere, as Madison continued massaging his back and he kept moving gleefully to divert her attention to a new spot.

  Madison ignored Collin’s remark. “You don’t have a collar,” she said. “Who’s your owner, boy?” She waited patiently as if the dog might answer her.

  “You know he can’t speak, right?” Collin pointed out, but Madison just frowned.

  “You’re thirsty, aren’t you? And hungry. When was the last time you had a drink?” She shook her head. Why was that her problem? Collin wondered. “Wait with him. Don’t let him leave,” Madison ordered, as she ran up the wooden staircase to her front door.

  “But...” Collin didn’t like dogs. Or cats. Or anything with fur and teeth. He stared down at the dog, who had a big pink tongue hanging out its mouth as it panted, and he had no idea what he was supposed to do. The dog pushed his nose up against his crotch to sniff.

  “Hey, back off,” he said, squirming in the opposite direction. Then, as he was trying to maneuver farther back, the dog gave his hand a big sticky lick. Ew. Probably all kinds of germs in that drool, he thought with disgust, as he wiped his hand on his shorts. The dog leaned forward again and licked his toes. Collin nearly leaped a mile straight in the air. “That’s it... You...” He jumped away from the dog and nearly fell. He had half a mind to scare the dog off. A stray wasn’t their problem, no matter how much Madison wanted to make it hers.

  She emerged with a bowl of water, a small belt and a white nylon rope. She put the bowl down in front of the mangy mutt, and he began lapping up the water as if he hadn’t had any in days.

  “Thought you looked thirsty, boy,” she said as she bent down and wrapped her belt around the dog’s neck, using it as a makeshift collar. She attached the nylon rope and tied it to one of the posts of her front steps. “Now you won’t run off before we can find your owner.”

  “We?” Collin asked, anxious. “Let’s call animal control. Then he won’t be anybody’s problem anymore. They can take him to the pound.”

  “The pound!” Madison cried, shocked. “No way. Besides, this island is too small for that. We’ve got one fire station and not even a police station.”

  Collin frowned. “What if there’s trouble? Does everybody just hope it goes away?”

  “Usually there isn’t, but in an emergency, we call the shore, and the police can helicopter someone over.”

  “But they can’t get here that fast,” Collin noted, not liking the idea of his future wife and future baby being on an island where the police were a helicopter flight away.

  “It’s a peaceful place,” she said. “Or was. Till you got here.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Collin asked, defensive. Near his feet, the yellow dog lifted his now-wet snout from the bowl of water and whined.

  “Never mind. Anyway, there’s no pound, so we’re going to find his owner.”

  “What if he doesn’t have one?”

  The dog cocked his head to one side. “We’re on an island, so I don’t think he swam here.” She glared at him, and he felt the sudden urge to march back to his rental house, grab his things and head straight for the first ferry off this little rock.

  “What if they don’t want this ugly dog back?”

  “He’s not ugly! He’s adorable.”

  Collin sighed. Here went the softhearted defense attorney, wanting to give everyone a second chance.

  “I think he’s a poodle mix. Maybe a labradoodle or a golden doodle.”

  “He’s a no-doodle, if you ask me.” Collin frowned at the dog.

  “You’re so mean!” Madison exclaimed. “Can’t you have a heart, for once?”

  “I have a heart,” he argued, a little taken aback.

  “Really?” She looked skeptical and that stung.

  “I’m not that bad. Only to the bad guys.”

  “Look, why don’t you go back to...” Madison lost her train of thought. “...wherever you came from and I’ll take care of the dog. I can go knock on doors.”

  “You? Take this disaster around and knock on strangers’ doors?” Collin was horrified. “In your condition?” He suddenly imagined a host of problems—heat stroke or an accident—or even worse, serial killers lurking behind every palm tree.

  “I’m pregnant, not paralyzed,” Madison said, narrowing her eyes. “And you don’t care about this dog, so I’ll do it.”

  Collin let out a sigh. He’d have to go with her. He didn’t want her wandering around the island with a dog nearly as big as she was. Puppy or not. “I’m coming with you.”

  “I didn’t ask for your help,” she said, lifting her chin.

  “You’re getting it anyway. Can you let me put on some clothes first?”

  Madison glanced uneasily at his bare chest. “I guess so.”

  The yellow dog barked his approval.

  CHAPTER SIX

  BY THE TIME they’d walked nearly a mile and asked about the dog at a dozen houses, Madison was starting to tire...and her empty stomach grumbled, reflecting her increasingly darker mood. She looked at the yellow fluffy ball of fur trotting ahead of them. So far, nobody they’d talked to owned a dog or knew of anybody who owned a dog, aside from the Ruben family and they had a German shepherd. The hot North Captiva sun hung high above them, nearly overhead, signaling that it was drawing close to lunchtime. Madison had long since burned off her breakfast of an English muffin and a cup of decaffeinated tea. Collin insisted on holding the dog’s “leash” as he fretted over her as if she were made of delicate china. She wasn’t sure whether she liked his nonstop worry or hated it. She might be pregnant, but she wasn’t some little weakling.

  Although, her hungry stomach told her that if she didn’t find some food—and something to drink—soon, she might start to feel like one.

  “Are we really going to knock on every door?” Collin asked her. “Why don’t we just let the dog go? He seemed fine on his own, and maybe he knows where home is.”

  “No! How can you say that? He’s dying of thirst.”

  “Not dying. Just thirsty,” Collin muttered. The dog bounced happily ahead of them, tail wagging as Collin held on to the rope attached to Madison’s skinny belt, which she’d looped twice around the dog’s neck.

  “He’s been on his own for a while... Maybe his owners even left the island.”

  “And left him behind?” Collin asked.

  “Sometimes people do bad things.” Madis
on shrugged.

  “Says the defense attorney,” Collin quipped. “Can I get that on record for the next time you’re defending one of your guilty clients?”

  Madison whirled, feeling anger squeeze her throat. Plus, her empty stomach made her short-tempered. “Not all of them are guilty.”

  “Uh-huh.” Collin rolled his eyes. “Are you going to tell me another sob story about a thug who just fell in with the wrong crowd?”

  Madison crossed her arms as they walked side by side down the narrow sandy path.

  “You don’t know everything, Mr. Prosecutor. Some clients are innocent. Like James Miller,” she said.

  “James Miller? The gangbanger? Are you serious?” He stopped, and the fluffy dog stopped with him, pink tongue out as he sat on the trail, watching them argue.

  “He wasn’t a gangbanger,” Madison insisted. “He was a nineteen-year-old who stole a gift for his mother. That’s all.”

  “I know that’s what you told the jury, but I can’t believe you really bought that. He was best friends with one of the most notorious gangbangers in his neighborhood, and he’d been seen riding around near where a shooting took place.”

  “He never shot anybody.” Madison was absolutely sure about this. “And he knew bad people, but he wasn’t in a gang. Besides, you know he didn’t shoot anybody, or you’d have been prosecuting him for it.”

  “He punched the security guard, or don’t you remember that footage? It was a violent act, and he was likely going to get more violent,” Collin said.

  “He made a mistake,” Madison countered. They were now standing toe to toe, but Collin was so much taller that Madison had to arch her neck to meet his eyes.

  “Okay, fine...and we’re supposed to set him free so his next ‘mistake’ is killing someone? And what about Jimmy Reese?”

  Madison couldn’t defend Jimmy. Well, technically, she had defended him, but he’d been a white supremacist who’d sprayed a supermarket with bullets, aiming for a black man, but killing a white girl and wounding half a dozen others.

  “I tried to get him to take a plea,” Madison said. I didn’t want to defend him. “Besides, he’s in jail for...what? Twenty years?” Not that even twenty years would help the girl’s parents sleep at night. “And anyway, James isn’t Reese.”

  “No? Reese also had burglary on his record. Just because James hadn’t shot up a grocery store yet and killed someone’s little girl doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have.”

  “James doesn’t want to kill people just because of what they look like.” How could he equate a neo Nazi with a kid who made a mistake?

  “No, but gangbangers kill innocent people all the time,” Collin countered. “Do I need to remind you how many kids were victims of gangbanger bullets last year alone?”

  Madison felt her blood begin to boil. She hated this “if one’s guilty, they’re all guilty” attitude. It was why people assumed that everyone who lived in a certain zip code or looked a certain way must be a criminal.

  “Maybe you’re so concerned about being right that you can’t see an obviously innocent defendant when you see one.” Madison hated the way he always put labels on people. Bad. Good. Life wasn’t that simple.

  “And maybe you’re such a bleeding heart you can’t see that the guilty clients are guilty...and that this dog is just fine without us.” Collin nodded at the dog, who still sat panting in the shade.

  Was this how Collin would be as a father? An authoritarian know-it-all? How would he be understanding with a child, who would inevitably make mistakes? “This is why we shouldn’t be parents,” she said, waving a hand in the air. “We’re too different.”

  “What does that have to do with being parents?” Collin took a step closer, his green eyes flashing in the sunlight. He was tall, imposing, intimidating, ever the prosecutor.

  “You. Me. We see the world so differently. We’d make a terrible couple, and we’d make terrible parents,” she said, taking the leash from his hands and walking ahead of him, the dog prancing out in front of her, happy to be moving again.

  “Whoa, I’m going to make a great dad.” Collin jogged to keep up, his sneakers sinking in the white sand.

  Madison blew hair from her face, irritated. “Oh, yes, Mr. Authoritarian?”

  “Kids need discipline.” He didn’t waver in his conviction.

  “No.” She turned and stared at him. “Kids need love.”

  “Well, of course, but they also need boundaries. They need rules.”

  She looked up at him again. “They need both.”

  Seeing the stubborn lines near his mouth, she recognized the expression. The one that crossed his face at the end of a trial, anytime things weren’t going his way. That was when he dug in, readied for the hard fight. Was this how it would be forever? Would they be fighting, like opposing counsel, for the baby’s entire life? The thought made her feel exhausted.

  “This is why we can’t be married,” she said, gesturing to the tense space between them.

  “Really?” He took a step forward, so their feet nearly touched. Now the tension disappeared, transformed from anger to something even hotter. His full lips... Madison remembered what those lips felt like on her skin, the searing trail they’d left down her collar bone. Memories of their night together filled her mind as she inhaled the smell of his aftershave, salty and sweet.

  “Maybe we’d make the best kind of parents,” he said. “Maybe we were meant to be together.”

  How did he do that? One second, she wanted to strangle him, and the next, she wanted to kiss him. She inhaled and took in a hint of his aftershave, something sweet and spicy. He smelled so damn good. He reached out and took her hand, and she momentarily froze. In that instant, she realized it was much easier to be angry and cold toward Collin when he wasn’t standing right in front of her, when she didn’t have his broad shoulders and his bright smile to contend with. He was too handsome, too charming...

  “We’re too different,” she said for what had to be the third time, recalling how everybody, even opposing counsel, loved him. She was the book-smart girl, the quiet one, the contemplative one, the one who didn’t have a favorite color because they all seemed to have pluses and minuses.

  Collin was the kind of guy who wore charisma like a jacket and when he entered a room, everyone took note.

  “Different is good,” Collin said. “I couldn’t stand having two of me around.”

  Madison laughed, unable to help herself. “I hate it when you’re self-deprecating.”

  “Why?” He seemed puzzled by that.

  “Because...” It makes you so damn charming, nearly irresistible. “Because you’re harder not to like when you’re funny.”

  He reached out and stroked her bare arm. At her feet, the dog got restless and whined, tugging at his leash. “Well, then I’ll be funny some more.” He stared at her a second or two longer, and Madison worried that he might kiss her, and then all that was left of her self-restraint might just sail out to the sea.

  “Why are you trying so hard?”

  “Because we belong together,” Collin said, and in that moment she almost believed him.

  “Why?” she asked again. She could never let anything go, never take things at face value.

  A slight frown creased his forehead. “Because we’re having a baby,” he said. “No other reason?” Like you love me, like you can’t live without me.

  “What other reason?” He looked as if the zinger he’d planned for closing arguments had fallen flat. Madison let out a frustrated breath, too annoyed to respond, so she kept moving. The dog, happy to be going again, trotted ahead. Goodness, what she’d do for a cheeseburger and fries right about now. Her stomach rumbled so loudly, she was sure Collin must’ve heard it. The heels of her flip-flops sank into the sandy path and she struggled to keep the dog on the substitute leash, the belt collar and the
length of rope together not being ideal. Not to mention the fact that the nylon rope dug into her palms whenever the dog pulled, which was every two seconds.

  “Heel,” she told him, although the dog seemed unfamiliar with the command. She wondered if he’d been trained at all, and how long he’d been running free on the island. Surviving on what? Trash? She looked at the golden fluff ball, his fur matted in places, twigs and leaves still in his tail. Poor thing.

  “You’re not going to say anything?” Collin prodded.

  “What do you want me to say?” Madison glanced back at the man walking just behind her, craning her neck to see his face. Even now, her body reacted to having him so close. More than anything else, it was his eyes, his green, almost gray eyes that moved her. She speculated, fleetingly, if their baby would have them, too. She realized she hoped so.

  She’d been thinking about the baby inside her growing daily, no bigger than a bean, and every time her mind wandered, it was usually to thoughts about what the child might look like. Rarely did she think about herself alone, childless, throwing herself back into her career.

  “I’m that baby’s father, and I do get a say,” Collin said, interrupting her thoughts and bringing them right back to him. “I know, technically, you get to decide, but before you do anything rash, just...just...promise you’ll talk to me first, okay?”

  Madison stopped in the middle of the path. The dog wanted to continue, but she tugged at the rope and he stopped, looking at both of them with his pink tongue lolling out.

  “Why do you care?” she asked him. That was the question she’d been dying to ask, ever since he’d shown up on the island. “You never cared about me before.”

  After our night together, you never called. Worse, you avoided me in court. She still remembered the way he’d glanced at her and given her only a tight smile, a please-don’t-talk-to-me smile. The way he’d turned his back on her.

  Then, when she’d asked for a plea deal for her new client, he’d flat-out refused. As if trying to prove she had even less sway than before.