Page 7 of Until Landon
“He gets me out of my head. It’s hard to be angry over some bullshit when his goofy face is staring me down.”
I smile for the first time in an hour.
“And why an asshole?”
“Because as good as I think I am at training dogs, this one has been impossible. Plus, he’s ruining my reputation.”
“What?”
“As a generally pissed off guy. I laugh more with him.”
The admission makes me want to laugh and at the same time admire his willingness to admit the funny flaw.
“What kind of dog is he?”
“The lineage is questionable. Think there’s a horse in there somewhere.”
“I bet he is your baby.”
“Yeah. I love the big jerk, despite his sunny outlook on life.”
“I get it. Every one of them is adorable in their own way.”
“Uh, being adorable isn’t one of his qualities. You’ll see.”
“Oh, he came with you?”
“Of course. And fair warning. He loves meeting new people. And by meeting I mean bowling over. You have to be prepared.”
“Pretty sure I can handle it.”
“Maybe. But Barney is a ladies’ man. Which makes him part hound. He will make sure you know he is interested in a relationship.”
I am holding back a smile.
By the time we drive the few miles and Landon turns onto his father’s property, I began to relax. The alcohol is wearing off and the pounding headache has become a softer tapping. We approach a gate and a code is entered. The imposing iron swings open and as we drive around a curve in the road a house comes into view. When the truck’s headlights illuminate the scene, my interest is peaked. What a cool looking place.
“Wow. I didn’t expect this,” I say, taking in the wide well-lit porch.
“My father takes care of the property. They bought it in the late seventies. It’s a big job, but he loves the place.”
“I can see why.”
We park in front of the pale butter ranch house with the dark roof. An eggplant colored door matches shutters on either side of a wide window. There is an usual vibe here. Like someone has put lots of love into the place. The carved door handle looks heavy. A hodgepodge of baskets and pots show flowers in all sorts of colors. Beautiful macramé hangs from rafters and hold huge ferns on either corner of the porch. Stunning.
The home sits facing a grassy field bordered by wildflowers. Everything is a bit overgrown. The wildness is beautiful though.
“I don’t know what to look at first.”
We exit the truck and Landon leads the way. A dog’s deep bark is followed by another’s whine of impatience. Then another higher pitched yap joins in the conversation.
“Is that Barney and friend?”
“Biscuit. We call them The B Boys. Have you met?”
“We have. And I’ve had a few conversations with your father. The dog loves me.”
Landon’s expression of surprise isn’t a shock. Ronnie has mentioned the oddity before.
