Groom In Training. Gail Gaymer Martin

also wore a crown in Martin’s eyes. Nick pulled out more packing material from the box. “He might not be as classy, but he’s a well-trained dog. That’s more than I can say about Suzette.”

      Martin spun around to face him, but Nick refused to back off. “The border collie’s friendly. Give him a chance. I know how you are.”

      “I don’t want him getting friendly with Suzette. She’s purebred.”

      Despite his provocation, Nick tried to cover his grin, thinking of Steph’s “la-di-da” comment.

      Rather than start a quarrel, Nick didn’t respond. “Where do you want the china dinnerware?”

      Martin didn’t speak but motioned to a cabinet.

      Nick opened the door, then lifted an octagonal plate with a bamboo shaped edge and slid it onto a shelf. Expensive he could tell. He grabbed another and flipped it over. Royal Signet China. Nick never heard of it, but he knew Martin’s taste.

      His own taste raised in question. What had happened to him? He’d never cared about fancy china or expensive crystal. Women often fussed about that, he remembered. What kind of tableware did Steph own? What difference did it make? He’d never see it.

      He emptied the box, then slapped the lid closed. He’d already experienced one fiancée who tossed her ring in his face just before the wedding. Why would he allow himself to even daydream about another?

      The memory triggered a new question. He paused until he got Martin’s attention. “Have you ever thought about dating again?”

      Martin’s head drew back. “Me?”

      “You’re the only other person in the room.” Nick stood with his hand on the box lid. Martin’s social life ended after his failed marriage. He’d never been one to hang out with friends, and Nick didn’t recall Martin dating anyone other than the woman he’d married.

      “Why would I date?”

      “You have a good life. You have a new home that’s too big for even one person.”

      “One person and a dog.”

      “Okay, and a dog.” A stream of air burst from his nose. “I just wondered. You’re still young enough. You’ve been divorced for—”

      “Don’t bring that up.”

      Nick drew in a breath. “You have lots of things going for you, but for some reason, you aren’t happy.”

      “I’m happy.” Martin spun around, pointing his index finger at him. “And what about you? I don’t see you with a social life to brag about.”

      His brother had nailed him. But Nick had an excuse. The business took a lot of time and money. Nick faltered. That was an excuse. He’d avoided commitment since his failed engagement. Maybe dating would work without marriage as an option. He wondered about Steph’s situation. She was single, he assumed. He’d noticed she didn’t wear a ring, and she’d even flirted a little. But that didn’t mean much in today’s society.

      Nick opened another carton and removed layers of Bubble Wrap. When he looked inside, he caught his breath. He grasped a crystal plate as memories flooded back. He drew out a faceted crystal bowl, and beside it, he recognized other pieces from his youth. “These were Mother’s.” Sadness washed over him, picturing his mom since the stroke.

      Martin glanced up and nodded. “You took some of her dishes, didn’t you?”

      “A few things.”

      Tension grew on his brother’s face.

      “I’m not challenging the pieces you have, Martin. You use them more than I would.”

      His brother gave a shrug and lifted another box from the floor.

      The door had been opened to his true purpose for dropping by. Feeling the weight of his question, Nick managed to form the words. “Have you talked with her?”

      “By her, you mean Mom?”

      The question was moot. Nick didn’t answer.

      “I’ve talked to her. She can’t utter a thing that makes sense.” He turned from the carton and leaned against the counter, his eyes piercing Nick’s. “You’re avoiding her.”

      The words lashed Nick like a whip. “I’m not avoiding her. It kills me to see her so helpless.”

      “You don’t think it kills me? Ignoring her doesn’t help. Do you think I don’t have to force myself to visit her in that condition and fill the time with one-sided conversation? You can’t shun her. She’s still your mother.”

      “I know. I know.” Nick blocked his ears from Martin’s accusations. “I visit.”

      “When was the last time?”

      Like a punch in the stomach, Martin’s question knocked the wind out of Nick. “I’ll go. I just wondered if there’s any improvement.”

      “Not much. She tries to talk, but it’s nearly impossible to understand her. The nurses do a better job than I do.”

      Knots twisted in Nick’s chest. His mother was a good woman, and the horrible stroke had taken away her identity. She couldn’t do much for herself. She lay there being fed and diapered like a baby. The image tore at him.

      “I’ll go this week. I promise.”

      Martin focused sad eyes on him. “It’s not easy, Nick. At least make an effort.”

      Nick nodded but couldn’t control a rebuttal. “And will you make an effort to be genial to Steph and Fred?”

      Martin frowned. “Fred? Is that her husband?” He flashed an accusing look. “I thought you had your eye on the woman.”

      Heat boiled in Nick’s chest. “Fred’s the dog, and since when do I get involved with married women?”

      “That doesn’t stop some people. It didn’t slow down Denise.”

      Nick’s anger softened. “I’m sorry, Martin. Denise did something terribly wrong, and I don’t condone it, either.”

      Martin shook his head and reached for another dish. “I’m sorry for snapping.”

      Surprised at his brother’s apology, Nick let it drop. But he couldn’t forget Martin’s comment about his interest in Steph. Sure, she’d gotten his attention, and he’d had fun doing a little flirting himself, but that’s all it was. They’d just met. Those things happened in movies not real life.

      Still his defense rose. Martin often came off badly to strangers. “Is there something wrong with being neighborly?”

      Martin lowered another carton onto the counter. “I don’t care what you do, but I don’t have time to be hanging over the fence, making small talk. I have a business to run.”

      Nick took a lengthy breath and closed his mouth. The Bible said turn the other cheek, and that’s what he’d learned to do with Martin. If he knew what made his brother so one-sided, he might be able to help him.

      As he delved into the next box, Nick kept silent. He’d always tried to get along with people. He’d go out of his way to be kind. Making friends only took a smile and a few kind words. Why couldn’t Martin do that?

      Nick closed his eyes picturing the dogs bounding back and forth along the fence and brushing their noses together, bonding a new friendship, but the dogs faded. In their place, Steph’s image filled his mind, and he tried to block it. Why think about a hopeless situation? Relationships took time. That’s why Martin’s business was over the top while his was creeping on all fours.

      Nick drew in a deep breath. He didn’t have time for a woman in his life now. Maybe never.

      His heart skipped a beat. Who was he trying to convince?

      “Heel.”