Paradox Love: Paradox Love Book 1

  In fact, even as a toddler, he was developing a powerful “Sugar radar.” And as long as he knew where she was, he was content. She could do whatever she wanted, go wherever she wanted. Several times each day, she would find her way back to him. Sometimes she sank down next to him exhausted from all her escapades. They would rest, their bodies together in warmth. And never was his heart more calm than during those times.

  Nancy was fully committed to the adventure of raising Sugar. As such, she visited every day. At each reunion, she was greeted with the ecstatic kisses of a baby girl completely in love with her new human mother. It was a salve, which served to heal the weariness of a long suffering soul.

  Sugar brought the realization of a universal truth; it was never too late to begin anew. And at the age of seventy-two, Nancy was suddenly alive again. Laughter returned, awakening long dormant electrical currents in both body and soul. She was being literally invigorated by a switch in her thoughts and attitudes. A body and mind that had given up and was preparing for the end was now living for today, relishing the moments.

  As the familiar sound of Luke’s truck engine was heard pulling into the driveway, she wondered whether and how she should try to contain this new giddiness. It was not like her. Nor was it like him. How solemn and boring they’d both become! No, she decided, she wouldn’t contain it. This house was going to be full of sugar and there was no point trying to douse it with vinegar.

  She watched from the kitchen window as Luke made his way to the front door. Then she heard the latch being unlocked and the door opening. Drying her hands, she carried the towel with her and went to meet him.

  “Hi mom,” he spoke as he stepped into the living room and closed the door behind him. Leaning against the wall behind him was a doggy door kit Nancy had purchased in preparation for Sugar’s pending move. He didn’t notice it at first.

  “Hi, son.”

  She went to hug him and already he was noticing a difference in her. Smiles were not permanent fixtures in this home. Nor were they frequent. And hers seemed frozen upon her face. He’d forgotten what she looked like as a happy person.

  “What is it mom? Did you win the lottery?”

  “Yes!” she declared.

  He played along.

  “How much?”

  “All the sugar I can carry. A lifetime supply!”

  “Okay. Was it a baking lottery?”

  “Not quite. More like a litter lottery. I may have won the runt, but she’s worth her weight in sugar.”

  “You keep talking about sugar. I don’t get it. And what’s this about a litter?”

  “I’m going to be a mama again, son.”

  She was enjoying producing the brain scramble she could see in his eyes. She gestured toward the doggy door kit with her eyes.

  The moment he realized what was in store, his head filled with protests. This was not something he wanted. Not for her. Not for him. Dogs had never brought anything but heartbreak. He swore he’d never have one. If Nancy got one, it would be almost as if he owned it with her. He didn’t want it.

  “Mom, at your age? That’s not fair to a dog.”

  “Why not? I’ve got twenty years left in me. That’s plenty of time.”

  “I just don’t think it’s a good idea. They’re too much work, mom.”

  Even as he said the words, he realized his argument was a losing one. Just look at her, he said to himself. She looked twenty years younger just talking about it.

  “Too late!” she declared. “She’s moving in tomorrow. And I need that doggy door put in today.”

  It was the last thing he wanted. But how could he argue with that humongous smile? She was oozing with all the excitement of a kid waiting for her birthday. If she wanted a dog and it would make her happy, so be it. She deserved that. After everything he’d put her through, installing a doggy door was the very least he could do.

  “Okay, mom. Let me get my tools.”

  She smiled as he headed back out the door. She knew that all it would take to change his mind was the feel of that sweet puppy in his arms.

  * * * * *

  There was life in the house again, represented by the large and comfy dog bed in the living room and another in Nancy’s bedroom. Life was present in the collection of dog toys scattered about, the pink bowl set to hold food and water. Life was there, evidenced by the leash that hung next to sets of keys on the wall. Like a nesting mother preparing a nursery for her new baby, Nancy had done everything required to make a home for Sugar. And today, it was official.

  She watched as Sugar ran about, sniffing everything. Nancy had witnessed the crazy energy of this dog on many occasions, but today’s exuberance was unprecedented.

  From the moment she’d met Nancy, Sugar sensed a deep and abiding connection. This woman had the essence and bearing of familiarity. Even more than Francis and Clare, her littermates and even her own mother, this woman ignited within her a frenzy of excitement, the rawest form of attachment. The scent of her was intoxicating to the senses, to the soul. Sugar could not get enough of her. And even as she ran about exploring her new home, she would often run back to Nancy as if to confirm, “You’re still here. Good. Good.”

  Sugar was a wreck in the most wonderful way. It was as though she sought and received confirmation in every single waking moment that she was now and forever exactly where she was supposed to be. Like a human being in the midst of a dream come true, her constant contact with Nancy seemed to say, “Pinch me, because this just can’t be real.”

  That energy was palpable and contagious. Nancy accepted it as a constant gift. Frozen smiles upon the face were here to stay. She could not keep her mouth from turning upward in genuine joy.

  It was soon evident that the dog beds were a waste of money. Nancy readily invited Sugar to join her on the couch. And bedtimes were not to be spent apart. Each had gained a new snuggle buddy.

  Luke had not been over since Sugar’s arrival. His absence did not go unnoticed. Nancy had a sense of why he was taking his time getting back. He was still stuck like she’d been. He was stubbornly solemn these days.

  He had coaching. That was it. If he ever demonstrated even a slight uptick in mood, it was only for that reason. There were victories, championships won, scholarships garnered by his players. Those were the highlights.

  His track record with dogs was rather bleak. She understood that. But his indifference transcended his life like the beauty of nature only and ever observed from behind a dusty screen. He hadn’t stepped away from that window and out into the brightness of life for years.

  Nancy went about composing a list of items needing fixing around the house. None were urgently necessary, but that wasn’t the point. She was not above guilting out her son. It was for his own good. Still, he did not come. A week passed. Then a few days into the next. Only when she feigned panic over a nonexistent leak in the bathroom did he finally relent.

  She peeked out the window when she heard him coming. He was unloading tools he would need. Gotcha, she smiled to herself.

  The kitchen faced the front of the house and was adjacent to the living room. The bedrooms were upstairs. Sugar could not see Luke approaching, but she knew something was up. She heard the bang of his truck door and then Nancy came to her. Both stared expectantly toward the front door. Sugar loved visitors. Her tail whipped back and forth, sweeping the floor behind her.

  And there he was. He walked in and set down his tools. Sugar’s tail flipped and flailed like a fish out of water. Ooooh, this was exciting! She could smell him from where she stood. He was delicious. She wanted more. Without introduction or hesitation, she bounded toward him. When she reached him, she was up on her hind legs immediately, her front legs resting on his leg. She let loose her nose and drank him in. Little squeals of happy discovery poured out.

  He was not moved. He didn’t reach down to touch her. Instead, he looked to his mother.

  “You said it was the upstairs bathroom, right? Your bathroom?”

/>   Nancy was stunned for a moment. And then she was sort of afraid to admit right then and there that she’d lied.

  “Yes.”

  He picked up his tools and walked right by her and toward the stairs. The clunk of heavy shoes could be heard as he made his way up.

  “Nice to see you, too!” she called behind him.

  He rolled his eyes and kept walking. Behind him, Sugar bounded up as fast as she could. He walked into the bathroom and looked around. There were no signs of a leak. No spread towels. Sugar was right behind him. She was sniffing his shoes as he scanned the bathroom.

  He turned to go back and ask his mother one more time if it was this bath or the one on the main floor. He spun around and not immediately seeing Sugar, took a step, his foot landing directly on her paw. A cry of pain confirmed he’d hurt her.

  “Damn it!” He was more frustrated with her than with himself. It was her fault, standing right behind him like that. He couldn’t see her there. She stumbled backwards, limping into Nancy’s bedroom. Most visitors were nice. Not this guy. She scampered off and hid under the bed.

  He wasn’t in the mood for this. He didn’t want to be forced to be nice to a dog he didn’t care about. This dog was his mother’s little project. He wasn’t interested. Still, he should try to make her understand that he didn’t mean to hurt her. But that was it. An apology and nothing more. He walked over to the bed and dropped to his knees. Then he lifted the bed skirt.

  “Come over here, you. Come on.”

  He didn’t sound too apologetic. The stern tone in his voice went right along with a human that would step on your paw for no good reason. Her big brown eyes stared back at him from the darkness. She was quietly observant and now suddenly timid. Maybe he wasn’t what she thought.

  It irked him to be in the situation. He wanted to stand up and walk downstairs and right back out the front door. Sugar licked her paw, as if kissing her boo-boo, as Nancy sometimes did for her. Luke had become an eye-rolling middle aged man. And this was just the occasion for such a reaction.

  He spoke to her again. “Come here. I’m sorry, okay? Come here.”

  She wasn’t buying it.

  With a heavy sigh, he acknowledged defeat before changing his tone. “Come here, sweetie. Come here pretty girl.”

  Her ears perked up. Yes, woo me, Mr. Visitor. Ask me nicely. Her demeanor seemed to communicate the sentiment. He went on cooing, his voice adjusting further. Her paw stopped throbbing, the pain forgotten. Now there was just his voice and the smell that wafted toward her. She inched forward like a soldier navigating a field littered with landmines. When she stopped, he coaxed her forward.

  Her nose was on overload mode, but she didn’t care. It was almost overwhelming, the scent that dripped from him. She didn’t understand it, but she wanted more. Finally, she emerged from under the bed.

  He did not reach out for her, but sat back on the floor. He’d been through this before. He’d let others in just like this, releasing himself to be vulnerable to Lucy and to Noel. Even now, his throat fought back against the swelling lump. He did not want to do this again. She stepped forward, smelling. Every inch of him seemed to tell a story. She was reading it. She was reading all the lines of him, taking in his journeys, his heartbreaks and his loves.

  It was not like with Nancy. Nancy was a map, a beacon. She was a marvelous clue that led to someplace even more amazing. And this was it. She’d found him.

  In the instant she knew she was home, the crazy frenzy ended. The frantic puppy was suddenly calm. She didn’t need to lick him. Didn’t need to bound all over him. She was home. She crawled into Luke’s lap and curled up, instant relief and relaxation seeping into every cell of her being. It was as if she were truly resting for the first time in her young life, as though she had reached the end of a very long journey. In that moment, the anxiousness was instantly ended.

  Only when she’d climbed into his lap did he place his hand upon her. He felt her heartbeat against his palm, felt the slow breathing of relaxation. How could this sweet animal have had sensed that this was the just the introduction necessary to win him over?

  Her calm welcome was what he needed to open up again, even if ever so slightly. He stroked her softly before finally lifting her up and cradling her. She nuzzled closer to him as if silently asking for more. Just more. More closeness. He carried her downstairs, past the curious gaze of his mother and went to the sofa, where he sat down with her still in his arms.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  It was as Clare and Francis had suspected. The vet diagnosed Torch with aortic stenosis, a heart condition not uncommon in German Shepherd breeds. The resulting murmur was serious enough to safely predict a shortened life expectancy of three to four years.

  Normally attributed to hereditary factors, they could not have known that it was not so this time. In this case, the soul known as Gabriel had been attacked by the roach, Blatta, with the resultant injury manifesting physically as this heart condition.

  With heavy hearts, the couple returned home from the vet’s office with their young dog. They were accustomed to receiving bad news from time to time where their children were concerned, but it was never easy. They were instructed to provide an environment where he would not be over-stimulated.

  They would do for Torch what they had done in each and every other instance where they’d cared for an ill child. They would make his life as full and happy as possible, so that each day was a gift. And they never gave up believing in the possibility of a miracle.

  It was good that Sugar had gone to live with Nancy. The sad fact of the matter was that Torch would have literally killed himself loving her. She made his heart pound too hard, made it race too quickly. Previous instances of syncope now made sense, as the couple learned of his condition. No matter how much he missed her, the visits had to end.

  Nancy was sad for Sugar. Trips next door were an understood event in their daily routine. Sugar would go to the front door and scratch at the customary time. They always went after dinner when the sun was dipping out of sight. And then suddenly, it just ended.

  The humans did their best. Ace and/or the Coco-Chis would come over to visit Sugar instead of the other way around. It was something. But it wasn’t enough. Sugar played with them mostly just to confirm the smell of Torch upon them. She rarely cried, but it was in those instances of confirmation that she did so. She missed him.

  Clare and Francis were so careful even as to keep Torch inside during times when Sugar was in her backyard. When it was safe, they would open the door. Torch would race into the grass, sniffing the fence line.

  Nancy understood that being home all the time wasn’t good for either of them. She took Sugar out often, for walks and short hikes, to the dog park and the lake. Sugar needed to forget a little bit. She needed to experience new smells and sensations. She needed to focus on other things.

  It worked. Over time, Sugar was less anxious when at home. She stopped scratching at the door. She was growing up and growing away from her sibling.

  For Torch, it wasn’t so easy. He was not the typical young dog. He was difficult to distract. He rarely played with toys, never found a favorite food, could not be bothered to chew bones. Clare and Francis kept the whelping box he’d been born in, as it seemed to comfort him. After the visits ended and the days stretched on, he could be found at most hours of the day sleeping there. It was where he could feel her. It was where he could nap and in his dreams, be with her still.

  Sugar had other visits to look forward to. She grew to recognize the hum of Luke’s truck engine, the sound of the closing door, his feet upon the sidewalk. And always, she would sit before the door, her tail wagging. She would patiently follow him from room to room. There was no barking. No dashing about.

  When he was finished with his work, he would find a seat with his mother in the living room. Even then, she would sit before him patiently waiting. Only when he patted the empty space next to him on the couch, would she jump up and rest h
er head in his lap. It was simple. But it was everything.

  She was living entire lifetimes in each instance in which she was able to be with him this way. She was a young dog, but a dog with lifetimes of wisdom and experience tucked deep within. She used that wisdom and her gentle ways to unclench his stubborn heart. And in time, Luke was once again open to the unconditional love most uniquely and beautifully offered by a canine soul, a kindred spirit.

  A mother’s heart never beats for itself. It beats for her child, no matter how old. It beats for a happiness that lives outside itself. It was not lost on Nancy that he was over more often now. He smiled more. He was softer with her and had more patience. He laughed harder. Sugar had gifted her with the long abandoned hope that she might see her son truly happy again.

  As happens so often in life, this little miracle occurred just in the nick of time. Two days before her seventy-fourth birthday, Nancy succumbed to a powerful stroke, which took her life as she slept. She passed with Sugar snuggled up at her side. She passed knowing that her son had yet a chance to live again. She passed at peace.

  * * * * *

  Luke sold his home and moved back to live in the home he grew up in. It seemed like the right thing to do. Sugar was comfortable there. And Clare and Francis, who had always been so kind to Nancy were right next door. He wanted to be there for them. Although his father had died many years before and although his parents never reunited, he had Nancy buried in the plot next to his father’s. Maybe it was the final wish of a child of divorced parents, but he liked the idea of them being together now.

  He knew that Sugar had grown to love the various activities his mother hand planned for them, and so he kept them going. Well mostly, anyways. He kept some of Nancy’s and created some of his own. He got permission from administration at the New Herald Center to bring Sugar in once a week to visit with patients. Her temperament was perfect for the situation.