BEN PULLED INTO THE DRIVEWAY OF THE JACKSON HOUSE AND SAW HIS crew already hard at work. He didn’t like asking them to work on Saturdays. Except for Gage, they all had kids with weekend activities, but no one seemed to mind. They all had bills to pay.
“Hey, Gage,” Ben said, climbing out of his truck with his thermos and a brown paper sack.
Gage Tennyson looked up from measuring a piece of oak flooring. “Hey, Ben.”
“How’s it going?”
“Pretty well. You?”
“Okay,” Ben said with a half smile.
“Maeve told me about the baby. I’m really sorry, man.”
Ben nodded. “Thanks.”
“I hear the girls are going out to breakfast.”
“Yeah. I hope Maeve can cheer Macey up—I’m beginning to wonder if she’ll ever smile again.”
“If anyone can, it’s Maeve.”
Ben nodded and turned to go inside, but then looked back over his shoulder. “Where’s your pal?”
Gage looked up from measuring. “Gus? Oh, he’s around here somewhere. Probably down by the river.”
Just then, a lanky yellow Lab came tearing around the house with a heavyset man chasing him.
“What’s he got now, Jim?” Gage called.
“My bagel!” Jim hollered.
“Do you really want it back after he’s had it in his mouth?” Ben called, chuckling.
“No, I don’t want it back! I want him to stop taking my food!” Jim shouted, gasping for air and slowing down. Gus looked back, realized the fun was over, and wagged his tail as he wolfed down the bagel.
“I’ll pay you for it,” Gage offered, suppressing a smile.
“That is not the point,” Jim said, his hands on his hips, still breathing heavily. Gus wiggled over to him, but Jim shook his head. “Don’t you come over here, mister,” he scolded.
“Aw, he loves you,” Ben teased, “and he obviously thinks you need to eat less bagels and exercise more.”
“Yeah, well that’s the third time this week he’s taken something.”
“And he’s wondering why you aren’t getting the message.”
Gus tried to nuzzle Jim’s hand, but he pulled it away. “Nope, we are not friends,” he said, “Go bother someone else.”
“Jim’s mad at you, Gus,” Gage said. “You’ve snatched one too many bagels.”
Gus wandered over to Gage with his tail hanging low and laid down with his head between his paws.
“Look, Jim,” Ben said, shaking his head. “You’ve made him sad.”
“He should be sad,” he said, scowling and trying to sound angry. He eyed him. “I always save you a bite, Gus . . . so you don’t need to steal.”
The very tip of Gus’s tail wagged, but his eyes were still forlorn, and Jim shook his head. Finally, he walked over, knelt down, and stroked Gus’s big head. Gus thumped his tail and licked Jim’s hand and then rolled onto his back for a belly rub. “I’ll forgive you this time,” Jim relented, “but next time, we’re through.”
“I hope you’re listening, Gus,” Ben teased. “Jim says, next time you’re through, and this time, he means it.”
Gus thumped his tail and Jim chuckled. “I honestly don’t know how anyone can stay mad at you.”
Gus thumped his tail again, and Jim stood up and turned his attention to Ben. “It’s about time you got here,” he teased. “Are ya gonna finally do some work?”
“Yup,” Ben said, holding up the paper bag in his hand. “Right after we have these bagels.”