A moment for you
After his dog escapes, Eric Johnson runs into a woman trying to ‘steal’ the pup and take him home…but ends up stealing Eric’s heart instead
Okay, I admit it: I’m a bit careless. Put it down to being a guy tired from solving problems at job sites all day. As I unlock my front door, Max, my Malamute dog, bursts past me and gallops into the sunset like a horse running to the barn— only there’s no barn, just a busy street.
I race inside to get a leash, which naturally isn’t where it should be, and by the time I get back to the door, I spy Max’s rump hurtling toward the store at the corner.
I lope after him, trying to catch up as a petite woman shoves my dog into the passenger seat of her car.
She is disarmingly attractive, with long brown hair that glistens in the early spring sun and rosy cheeks that smile lovingly at Max. But there’s no time to focus on her beauty: She’s stealing my boy!
“Dognapper! Stop!” I shout, flexing my muscles a bit as I run toward her.
The woman stops and stares back at me, her wide emerald eyes drawing me in. She gestures toward herself. “Me?” she asks, as I pull up, trying not to look as breathless as I feel. “I’m no dognapper! This is my neighbor’s dog, Duke.”
“No, he’s my dog, Max,” I respond. Recognizing my voice, Max slips from the woman’s grasp and bounces over to sit before me. I quickly clasp the leash I’m carrying onto his collar.
The woman’s face falls and she begins to talk fast. “Oh no, I’m so sorry…duke’s a Malamute, they look just alike. I was going to take him home, I promise! Well, to Duke’s home anyway, but I wasn’t trying to dognap him!” Her voice takes on a pugnacious tone.
“I’m a volunteer at the humane society…i don’t ‘nap’ dogs, I save them!” She puts her hands up to her face, partially covering the reddish tint creeping into her cheeks. “Oh, I’m so embarrassed.” She looks so woebegone that I find myself wanting to apologize to her. “Well, I’m glad you aren’t really a dognapper,” I say, “because I don’t know what I would have done next. I wouldn’t want to have to tackle any lady in a convenience store parking lot, let alone a beautiful one.”
At this, her eyes flicker to meet mine and we share a smile. “And I’m glad Max was in good hands. I mean, the hands of someone from the humane society? He was a lucky dog, running into you!”
“Her tinkling laugh sets each and every nerve in my body on edge”
While I blather on, she squats down in front of Max, pressing both hands into the fur on his head. “Sorry, Max,” she says. “A case of mistaken identity.” He thanks her with a kiss on the face. Lucky dog, indeed.
By now, I have noticed her ring finger is bare. My marriage having ended over a year ago, I’ve begun noticing things like that.
I stick out my hand. “I’m Eric Johnson, Max’s dad. He and I live just over there.”
She puts her tiny hand in mine and lets me help her up. Her touch makes me feel like I’ve been struck by Cupid’s arrow, and it’s speeding all the way to my heart as she looks around in the way people do when a conversation is at its end.
Think, Eric! I urge myself, willing something clever and charming to come to mind. I don’t want this moment to end, but I’m feeling as slow as a basset hound.
She comes to my rescue. “Well, Eric Johnson, I’m Lily Evans. And I owe you a huge apology.”
“No apology necessary,” I say, my heart hammering as she meets my eye again.
“Well, if you won’t take an apology, at least let me make it up to you,” Lily says. “You’re a dog person, and I happen to have a ticket to the Humane Society’s Fur Ball this Saturday. If you’re not busy that night, would you take it? It’s dinner and auction, lots of fun…a $ 35 value!”
Is she flirting? I wonder, flashing her what I hope is my most endearing smile. “Ah…well, Lily, I’m not exactly ‘ ball’ material. I’m more of a country guy than a Prince Charming.”
“Oh, it’s not formal,” she says. “And frankly, I don’t think a man is well-dressed without some dog hair on him.”
I smile, resisting the urge to look at my khakis, which usually look a bit furry. “Will you be at the ball then…cinderella?” I ask, her tinkling laugh setting each and very nerve in my body on edge.
“I’m more of a country girl myself than a Cinderella,” she says, sticking her hand toward me, and then turning a little red again. “Oh, I guess we already did that.”
“That’s okay,” I said, eagerly taking her hand in mine once more. “So, will you be at this ball, Lily Evans?”
“Yes. In fact, I have two tickets, and the seats are reserved…so you’d be sitting beside me.”
“Well, who’s the lucky dog now!” I say. Lily smiles, and I could swear that rascal Max is smiling too.