Nicole was right. If Gracie didn’t step out of her comfort zone and “make a friend,” then how did she expect her son to do the same?
“Okay,” she whispered to herself. “Today’s the day.”
She peeked in the rearview mirror. Benny stroked Sir Isaac Newton’s fur, carefully adjusting a bandana made from fabric that glowed with neon rockets and cartoon planets—courtesy of MJ.
The pup gazed up at him with unshakable adoration—blissfully unaware that Benny wanted to train him with…frequencies.
“I just don’t know about the trick,” Benny mused, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses as they did when he was in deep thought.
“I thought you were going to do something space-related,” she said. “Have him circle you and call it ‘orbiting’ or something?”
He gave a wry snort that made him sound five times his age. “I was, but that Olivia girl is doing something space-related. She’s doing one called ‘blast off,’ where her dog jumps after she says, ‘Three, two, one.’” He made a face. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Maybe you could work with her and come up with another idea.”
He gave her an “are you kidding?” look. “Not a chance. She thinks she’s all that and a bag of…kibble.”
She bit back a laugh because he sounded so much like Red.
“She thinks she has some kind of special claim on space because of some movie. Like, she’s going to hate this…” He flicked at the rocket-covered bandana. “It’ll just make her mad.”
Whoa. Was that the smart-kid equivalent of pulling her pigtails? Well, in Olivia’s case, gorgeous professional braids.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you, Mom,” he said suddenly. “Miss Renee said they need someone to deliver the treats to the dogs. I was thinking Grandpa could come as Santa. He said he would but…” He started laughing to himself, like he was remembering an inside joke.
“But what?”
“Only if my trick is to hold Sir Isaac Newton over a soft cushion, drop him carefully, and say, ‘There—he proved gravity.’” His shoulders moved as he cracked up, and Gracie did, too.
“That sounds like my grandfather.” Then she snapped her fingers as a thought occurred to her. “But maybe he’s on to something, Ben.”
“What? I’m not going to drop my dog, Mom.”
“No, but aren’t there three famous Newtonian laws?”
He thought about it for exactly, well, a nanosecond. “Of course. Inertia. Force and acceleration. Action and reaction. Remember, I wrote my science report on them.”
“Well, show those laws. You could?—”
“Mom!” He clapped his hands once, his eyes flashing. “That’s it! I could have him stay still for law one, go down that little play slide for law two, and stop a moving ball for law three.”
Gracie felt her jaw drop, endlessly amazed by this delightful and brilliant little boy. “Yes, yes, and yes!”
“You’re a genius, Mom!”
She just shook her head, knowing who the real genius in the family was.
He picked up the Cavapoo and they touched noses. “We’re going to win, Sir Isaac Newton! We’ll show that dumb dog named Kat.”
“Benny.” She purposely put a warning note in her voice. “Be nice. And don’t say her dog is dumb.”
“She’s not, and that’s the problem,” he muttered. “The dog is so smart it’s scary.”
Before she could pursue that, her phone rang from her purse and the dashboard lit up with the caller’s name: Sam Sutton.
It’s about time, she thought glumly at the sight of Benny’s father’s name. Christmas was two days ago.
“It’s Dad!” he said, leaning forward. “Aren’t you going to answer? I want to tell him about Sir Isaac Newton!”
