A Home for Sam

       It almost hurt to hear the laughter. Meg forced her eyes toward the window. With a little frown and a lump in her throat, she watched the two of them, Steven and Sam, standing a few yards apart in their tiny backyard. The boy grinned, bent down, hunched his shoulders, planted his feet firmly, and held out his arms. That was Sam’s cue to charge. Three years ago, when Sam was just a few pounds of floppy ears and wagging tail, he’d more often than not tripped over his own disproportionately large feet before Steven’s six-year-old arms could scoop him up. Now that Sam was one of the biggest Australian Shepherds they’d ever seen, too big even for Steven’s willing arms, her son had to be content with a fierce plop of front paws on the shoulders and a mad lick on the face at the end of Sam’s run. But the game had lost none of its magic. A boy and his best friend, forever linked by a bond of youthful exuberance, trust,     and affection.
       Forever. Meg winced. Barry had promised to be with them forever. Two years ago, he’d changed his mind, declared that he wanted “more than the picket fence and yard full of kids.”  The last she heard, he was living with a twenty-year-old model in Hollywood. He’d assured her that Steven would always have a place in his life. But now she realized that “always” meant as much to Barry as “forever” did.
        Meg sighed. Steven had lost his dad to the greater attractions of a lifestyle without commitments. How could she tell him that now he must lose his best buddy to the harsh realities of a severely challenged budget? The ad would be in the paper tomorrow. Time had run out; all options had been exhausted. Steven had to be told that they simply couldn’t afford to keep a big dog like Sam anymore.
        Meg ran her hand over her forehead, trying not to give way to tears; she’d had enough of those in the past two years. She took a deep breath and turned from the window. First things first. Homemade pizza, Steven’s favorite dinner, then...
        No, she thought determinedly, rejecting the inevitable conversation for now. First things first.
        She watched him eat, considering with satisfaction that her son bore resemblance to her side of the family, with his auburn hair, freckles, and blue eyes.
        “Hey, mom, this is good grub!”
        “Thanks, cowboy.”
        Sam sat respectfully nearby, but his tail swept a frantic arc across the floor. His portion of pizza disappeared in one flash of white teeth. Meg would miss him almost as much as Steven would. Life had a way of throwing some curves you couldn’t possibly hit. But, as her dad often said, the next pitch just might be a home run. She had to believe that the game wasn't over yet.
        After dinner Meg got out her checkbook, bank statement, and budget, spread them out on the kitchen table, and stared at them, hoping some alternative solution would jump out at her.
        Steven peered over her shoulder. “Whacha doin’, Mom?”  
        “Homework,” she said. “Ready for bed?”
        “Yup.”  He tilted his head. “Everything okay, Mom?”
        That sweet look of concern in his young face tugged at her heartstrings. Meg took a deep breath.
        “Honey, remember that talk we had last week, about cutting down on expenses for a while?”
        “Hey,” he said with raised eyebrows, a note of alarm in his voice, “I’ve been turning off lights and collecting cans and bottles like we said, and I talked to a couple of neighbors about mowing their grass this summer…”
        “Oh, honey, I know,” said Meg quickly. “You’re doing great.”  She reached out and touched the curl of dark red hair that always fell onto his forehead. The worried look in his eyes made her heart twist. She glanced over at Sam, asleep on the hearthrug. And made a decision.
        “And we’re doing fine for now. So let’s not even think about it anymore. How about a dish of ice cream before bed?”
        “C’mon, Sam,” called Steven a half hour later. Sam was immediately on his feet, tail awag. At the door to his cowboy-themed bedroom, Meg kissed Steven on the forehead, gave Sam a pat on his rusty speckled snout, then turned out the light. She allowed herself a few tears before bidding a grateful goodbye to a very tough day.
        When she arrived home for lunch the next day, she checked her cell phone, which she'd left on the kitchen counter that morning, perhaps intentionally. A cheerful voice said, “I’m calling about your ad in the paper. About the dog? Could you call me later?”  She gave her phone number, a landline so Meg pictured an older woman. Meg sank into a chair. She hadn't wanted to think about that ad, hoping no one would call. Now, someone had. Reluctantly, she dialed the number.
        “Hello?” answered that same cheery voice.
        “Hi, this is Meg Newman. You called about my ad?”
        “Oh, yes! My name is Peggy O’Reilly. Thanks for calling. When can we meet the dog?”
        Meg replied in a weakened voice, “Well, actually, he belongs to my son Steven...”
        “Anytime is fine with us,” said the woman as if she hadn't heard. “We live on a ranch about five miles outside town. Would this afternoon be too soon?”
        Meg hesitated, her head spinning; this was all happening too fast. The lady’s congenial voice continued, “The dog isn’t for me, although I love dogs. In fact, we have a regular zoo out here. Cats, horses, sheep, cows, chickens, you name it. They’re all like part of the family. You’re probably wondering why on earth we want a dog!”
        “Well —”
        “It’s for my boy Jake. Lost his dog a while back. We’d had old Shep since he was a pup. It just broke Jake’s heart to lose Shep; they’d grown up together, you see.”
        Meg thought of her own son and the heartbreak in store for him. While she was encouraged to know that Sam might soon bring happiness to another youngster, she was already imagining the look in Steven’s eyes when he said goodbye to his best friend.
        Before she could collect her thoughts enough to tell the woman she’d changed her mind, the jovial voice said, “Tell you what – why don’t you and Steven come out to the ranch tonight. We’re having a little barbecue and you’re welcome to join us. How does that sound?”
        Meg sagged a little. She knew what she had to do. “That’s very kind of you,” she said in a defeated voice. “We’ll bring Sam out at six.”
        “Fine!”  The woman gave directions, then wished Meg a cheery goodbye.
        The afternoon in her office passed at a snail’s pace. When she got home, Steven and Sam were in the little backyard as usual.
        “Hey Mom! Look what Sam can do.”  He tossed a ball hard to the ground and Sam leaped up to catch it in one bounce.  “I only had to show him twice and he could do it. Good boy, Sam!” He gave the dog a hug.
        “Smart, too,” smiled Meg. She bit her lip. “How would you two like to take a drive out into the country this evening? We’re invited to a cookout on an honest-to-goodness ranch.”
        She knew the effect that would have; Steven had been a cowboy from the crib on. But she felt like the dentist injecting Novocain to dull the pain of the drill. She couldn’t put off telling Steven the truth much longer. Still, procrastination can be a comfortable temporary problem-solving approach, so she went on autopilot and before she knew it, they were turning off the highway through the timbered arch rustically carved, “Double J Ranch.”  Steven was agog with the sight of land spread out seemingly without border on either side of the drive. The house was a full half-mile from the road. On the large porch stood a plump, fresh-faced woman with salt-and-pepper hair pulled back into a bun, just as Meg had pictured her.
        “I’m so glad y’all could come!” she called. “This must be Steven. Hi, I’m Peggy.”
        Steven hesitated only briefly before shaking the hand she offered.
        “And Sam!” Peggy bent down. “We’ve been looking forward to meeting you!” Then Mrs. O’Reilly gave Meg a reassuring look. “Come along. Everything’s about ready for some serious chowin’ down.”
        She led the way to the barbecue pit dug between two barns behind the house. Half a dozen men wearing 10-gallon hats milled around teasing a woman who bustled back forth with trays piled with food.
        After cursory introductions, Peggy O’Reilly motioned them to a bench beneath a towering elm tree. “I don’t know where Jake is.”  She shook her head. “That boy loses all track of time when he’s out riding the range.”
        Meg fidgeted, not really wanting young Jake to come, yet wishing to get this over with. Steven was trying not to gawk.
        “Mind you, Jake’s a good boy,” droned on the cheerful voice.  “I don’t know what I’d have done without him after his dad died last year. Big Jake was such a fine man. That’s where the ‘Double J’ comes from, Big Jake and Little Jake. Little Jake takes after his dad in so many ways. Both strong-minded and just a might stubborn. Big Jake loved animals too.”  She smiled at Sam. “He’d've loved Sam. Our Shep was like a member of the family.”  She shook her head. “Tch! Listen to me, rattling on when I’ll bet you’re hungry as a bear, eh, Steven? Well, let’s go check out the grub. And don’t be shy, now!”
        If the circumstances had been different, Meg would have savored this pleasant woman’s easy conversation and engaging manner. She noticed that Steven had begun to relax; at least he wasn’t gaping quite so much and he was laughing unselfconsciously at the ranch hands’ corny jokes. Sam received much attention. It pained Meg’s heart to know that very shortly Steven would almost certainly be saying goodbye to him.
        Meg said impetuously, “Mrs. O’Reilly, we can’t stay long —”
        “Call me Peggy, honey. Everybody does.”  She looked past Meg and suddenly her eyes brightened even more. “Well, it’s about time!”
        Meg heard the horse then, and her heart sank. Peggy O’Reilly waved. “Hi, hon! Come meet some real nice folks!”
        Furiously Meg’s mind worked. Maybe this boy and Steven would become good friends. He’d invite Steven to come out to the ranch anytime he wanted to see Sam, maybe even take him riding on those inviting open fields. Her throat was suddenly incredibly dry now that the moment of truth had arrived. Reluctantly, she turned to meet the boy who might break her son’s heart. And it was Meg’s turn to gape.
        “Little” Jake had dismounted and was, in true cowboy style, brushing dust off his Levis with his hat. He was at least six feet tall, had the broad shoulders of a man who didn't mind hard work and, when he looked up and waved at them, Meg saw a tanned face sliced by a bright white smile. For a delicious moment she forgot everything except the sparkle in eyes that even at a distance she could tell were blue. Her heart was skittering as it hadn’t for years.
        “’Bout time!” called Peggy. “We thought you’d never come.”
        He gave the beautiful bay mare a pat on the forehead and turned to join them. Meg rose slowly, her head swimming rather pleasantly. What happened next caused her heart to stop. Jake O'Reilly paused, glanced past her, his mother, and Steven, to where Sam sat upright, grinning and expectantly wagging his tail. Jake bent down, hunched his shoulders, planted his feet firmly, and held out his arms.
        “Here, boy!” he called in a husky voice.
        Immediately Sam was on his feet and charging. To Meg’s astonishment Sam bounded straight into the muscular arms and began to lap at the square jaw. Jake laughed deeply, relishing every lick. Then he set Sam down gently, and man and dog joined them by the elm tree.
        When Jake O’Reilly smiled down at her and gave her his full attention, she was aware of a wonderful sense of peace, something she hadn’t felt for a very long time. He took off his cowboy hat to reveal dark curly hair.
        “Ma’am,” he said with a charming glint when his mother introduced her. “That’s a fine dog you have there.”  He shook hands with Steven, then bent to give Sam a rub behind the ears.
        Two hours later the sun was low on the horizon and what had begun as one of the worst days of her life was ending on a decidedly more optimistic note. Meg’s heart was as light as sponge cake and at this point absorbing some pretty sweet sensations. She could have lingered, but they hadn’t been invited to take up residence.
        Yet, Meg told herself, only half in jest.
        “This has been wonderful,” she said as they walked to the car. She turned to Jake O’Reilly, bit her lip, and said, “But we didn’t, um, discuss our – our business.”  Her eyes went quickly to Sam, who looked expectantly from her to Steven to Jake.
        Peggy O’Reilly’s cheery voice said, “We’ve enjoyed your visit so much. You all must come again, Meg.”
        Steven’s eyes lit up. “Can we?”
        “Well...” Meg hesitated. Crickets chirped, night birds chattered, and frogs croaked. But Meg heard only Jake’s voice.
        “Sure you can, buddy. How about your mom bringing you out on Saturday. I’ve got a pony that’s just your size.”
        Steven could hardly contain himself. “Hear that, Sam?”  He looked suddenly unsure. “Okay if I bring Sam?”
        Jake nodded. “Sure thing, pard.”  He winked at Steven, then smiled down at Meg for just a moment longer than necessary. “I have a feeling you and Sam are gonna be spending a lot of time at the Double J.”
        Meg smiled back, all apprehension gone. This, she thought, must be what a home run feels like.
        Yes, indeed. She knew they’d found the perfect home for Sam.