“I get twenty-two miles per gallon in that truck,” Jim announces around a forkful of chicken, having tuned out his children and wife.
“Is that good?” My mom feigns interest.
“Not as good as if they’d bought that truck used. May as well have flushed fifteen grand down the toilet as soon as they drove it off the lot,” my dad counters while Jim’s mouth is too full to respond.
Beside me, Tyler sits, eating and watching and answering the odd question thrown at him about the Iditarod and his seasonal park ranger position.
“Have more chicken, Tyler.” Mom gestures toward the platter in front of him.
“I’m good for now. Thanks, Eleanor.” Tyler smiles politely at my mom. “I still have a piece.”
“What about green beans?” She holds up the casserole dish. “Or carrots?”
His smile widens. “Still got some of those, too. Thanks.”
She pauses a beat. “Potatoes?”
“Jesus, Eleanor. The man hasn’t even finished his plate!” My dad gives my mom an exasperated look.
“Jee-sus!” Nicole echoes, bursting with laughter as if my father’s made a joke.
“Don’t say that!” Liz scowls at my dad. “Either of you!”
Dad winces at his granddaughter. “Sorry, Tyler, it’s been a few years since we’ve had someone new at the table. Well, a new male grown-up. Not these little urchins.” He casts a wink toward Tillie and Nicole. “My one son-in-law, the one who’s at work right now, eats like he has a hollow leg, and this one has no problem helping himself to thirds.”
“Don’t mind if I do, actually.” Jim reaches across the table and grabs a thigh by the end with his fingers, dropping it unceremoniously on his plate.
“I mean, not that I’m looking to add you to my collection of sons-in-law,” my father continues.
I groan. “Dad.”
Beside me, Tyler chuckles.
“So, where did you two meet again?” Vicki asks as she wipes a smear of carrot off Molly’s chubby cheek.
“At the race,” I lie, at the same time that Tyler answers with, “On my property, when Marie trespassed to accuse me of neglecting my dogs.”
I give the side of his leg a swift kick.
“This is the one you were talking about that night?” Liz stares at me, genuinely surprised. As am I. I didn’t think she was listening.
“You’ve been talking about me with your family? All good things, I hope.” He smirks as he carves into his chicken. But beneath the table, he gently nudges his knee against mine.
The simple contact makes me falter. “That was a misunderstanding that we cleared up during the race. Now I’m his veterinarian.”
“Funny, I don’t remember Harry ever coming to dinner,” Vicki quips, flashing a wry smile my way that says she doesn’t buy the emphasized just a friend label I threw on when I introduced Tyler to a kitchen full of curious stares.
As if waiting for her mother’s fleeting distraction, Molly throws her bowl, splattering pureed carrots all over the floor and nearby walls. She shrieks with delight as Yukon and Bentley dive in for the cleanup.
“No one can say those dogs don’t eat well.” My mom laughs, climbing out of her chair and heading for the cupboard for a fresh bowl. “You eat, Vicki. I’ll finish feeding her.”
“It’s the new game around here this week.” Dad grunts as Vicki cradles her forehead in her hands in frustration. “So, Tyler, how’s the off-season training going? Must be tough to handle, with your day job.”
“It’s busy. My handler works on commands with them through the day, and I take them out for short runs on their harnesses with the ATV at night, when it’s cool enough. Between work and the dogs, I don’t have much time for anything else.”
And yet he’s here now, having dinner with my family, I think with a bubble of satisfaction.
“Earl Hatchett used to love takin’ his dogs out under a midnight sun.” My dad waggles a finger at Nicole and Tillie. “Girls, that’s how these mushers keep these dogs in shape when there’s no snow. They have them run ahead of the ATVs.”
“I know.” Tillie’s eyes flick upward to the ceiling.
“Oh, of course you do. I forgot you’re nine years old and you already know everything. Tyler, you gonna do tours?”
“Nah.”
“Not interested, huh. Yeah, don’t blame you. Dealin’ with all those people traipsing all over your property. Besides, you already have an off-season income. I heard Harry’s been pushing those kennel tours hard this summer.”