“And he’s real smart, Mom. Oliver already knows how to sit and stay.”
“Oliver?”
“That just seemed like his name.”
“Really?”
Jackson glanced past her. “Hey, Mom, this room looks really great. That color you mixed up is really cool. Can I paint my room a color too?”
“What color would you choose?”
“How about a darker blue? Maybe like the ocean on a cloudy day.”
She slowly nodded. “I suppose that’d be okay. We just need to be sure we select colors that buyers like.”
Jackson got that stubborn look again, but then he smiled. “Everyone likes blue, Mom.”
She pointed to Oliver. “And don’t forget that he is only here for the night.” Jackson’s smile vanished and Wendy felt like a villain. “How about if you help me get the furniture pieces back in here?” she asked.
“Okay,” he muttered.
“We need to be careful not to bump the wood I just painted—it’s still tacky.” She looked at the dog. “Will he be okay?”
“I’ll put him in my room,” Jackson said glumly. “I fixed him up a bed and water bowl and everything up there. He really likes it too.”
It didn’t take long to get the few furnishings into place, but when they were finished, Jackson still looked like he’d lost his best friend—or was about to. Wendy felt guilty and knew somehow she needed to put a better spin on this.
“Here’s the deal,” she began carefully. “You said yourself that the dog seems well trained ... and that probably means he has an owner—somewhere. I’m guessing he could belong to a tourist. Maybe he got lost on the beach. If we get the word out, someone will probably claim him. He might even have an electronic chip to identify him. A lot of people get those for pets. He does seem like a nice dog—”
“So youdolike him?”
She smiled. “Of course. What’s not to like? But he probably has a heartbroken owner who loves and misses him. And here’s the bottom line, Jackson—I just don’t want you to be too hurt when that happens.”
“But what if no one shows up to claim him?” Jackson asked with hopeful eyes. “Could I keep him then?”
Wendy didn’t know what to say. Their apartment back in Cincinnati had a strict no-pets policy, but she wasn’t ready to have that conversation. Not tonight. “Oh, Jackson.” She sighed, pushing hair away from her face. “I don’t know. Let’s just sleep on it. Okay?”
“Okay.” He nodded. “That’s fair.”
“And tomorrow, you can ask around the neighborhood—see if anyone knows who he belongs to.”
“All right, Mom. I’ll do that.” Jackson wrapped his arms around her neck, solidly kissing her cheek. “Good night, Mom.”
“Good night.” She ruffled his hair.
“And I’ll sleep tight,” he added. “I’ll sleep even better than usual because I’ve got a watchdog in my room.”
Wendy resisted the urge to groan as she forced a smile, then closed her door. She knew she was in over her head—more with each passing day. Somehow, she had to get through this without losing her son ... or her mind. Remembering her promise to Jackson—to trust God more—she decided to pray about this latest addition to their household. “Dear God,” she pleaded quietly and quickly, “please help us to find that lost dog’s real owners. Amen.”
Wendy was pleasantly surprised to wake to sunshine streaming through the bare window the next morning. She’d removed the tattered curtain before painting the bedroom, and although she had some ideas for recycling linens, she hadn’t figured out the new window covering yet. At least she’d taken the time to clean the glass, and with the morning sunshine, it was sparkling.
“Good morning,” Jackson called out as she came into the kitchen. “Oliver and I already went down to the beach.” He held up a bucket. “I found about thirty sand dollars.”
“I totally forgot,” Wendy admitted. “You should’ve woken me.”
“I figured you needed to sleep in, Mom. You’ve been working so hard lately.”
“Thanks. That was nice.” Wendy filled the coffeepot with water.
