Dad in Training by Gail Gaymer Martin Page B

represent the solution for the dog shelter. He meant so much more, and his pain had become hers. If she could learn to keep her mouth closed, she’d be a better friend.
    “Molly.”
    The clerk’s voice cut into her thoughts. “Hi, Kirk. We have an eager young man who wants to look for a dog.”
    Kirk motioned toward the kennel entrance. “You know where you’re going.” He looked at Randy. “You have lots of choices.”
    Molly moved ahead to the door while Randy paused and gave Kirk a thoughtful look. He turned toward Brent, then back to Kirk. “Me and my uncle will pick the best friend for us.”
    “Let’s take a look.” Molly pushed open the door. She observed Randy’s face as he barreled alongside her, notwanting to miss a moment. She pulled open the next door, and the dogs’ excitement filled the room.
    Randy dashed from one cage to another while Brent stood at the threshold as if nailed there.
    “Aren’t you coming?”
    “In a minute.”
    She strode away, heading for Randy and praying he’d notice the golden retriever. She stopped beside the boy as he knelt on the floor and petted the small dachshund she’d noticed on her last visit. Its long black nose and frankfurter body pressed against the wire, his long, thin tail beating against the floor.
    “Do you like him?” Molly held her breath.
    “He looks like a hot dog.” He rose and looked down the row. “But I want a bigger dog.”
    Her lungs released pent-up air. “I noticed a really great dog here the other day.” She guided him down the row, but he’d been diverted by a large black Lab. Ebony. The name had been attached to the door. “She’s a girl.”
    Randy backed away. “A girl?”
    Molly nodded. “Don’t you like girls?”
    “I want a boy dog.”
    Brent had appeared, and his frown melted to a smile. “I’m not surprised. We boys stick together.” His gaze shifted to Molly. “But girls are nice, too.”
    “Yuck.” Randy shook his head.
    She chuckled, but Brent stood a moment, his gaze riveted to hers, letting her know the girl comment was meant for her. Molly’s pulse skipped like kids heading out for recess. “We’d better get moving before they close.”
    Brent blinked as if unaware he’d been staring. He spun around and headed down the row of pens, and when he slowed, Molly knew he had neared Rocket.
    She edged her way closer as he crouched beside the dog and petted his nose through the barricade.
    “Is he a boy?”
    Randy’s question jarred the tender moment. “He’s a boy. His name’s Rocket.” She turned over the information sheet and looked on the back. “He’s three years old.”
    “Rocket.” Randy nestled down beside Brent and let the golden retriever lick his fingers. “He likes me.”
    “He does,” Brent said, his voice sounding tight. He lowered his hand from the cage and stepped back.
    Randy stood, too, and continued down the row, stopping to pet another dog.
    Molly watched Brent’s expression, trying to decide if Brent wanted Randy to choose Rocket or a dog that wouldn’t remind him of Toby, who’d been a symbol of the love that should have been in his life. She knew it, and she suspected Brent did, too. The dog might cause too much pain for him.
    “Is this one a boy?”
    Molly strode forward and eyed the dog—a black-and-white setter. She flipped over the card. She didn’t want to tell him the truth. “He’s a boy. He’s five.”
    “What’s his name?”
    She pointed to the sign.
    “Rascal.” He withdrew his focus from the name card and gazed down the aisle toward Brent. “Do you like this one?”
    Brent sauntered toward them and glanced into the pen. “It’s your dog, so it’s your decision.”
    Randy studied the setter. “I know which one I want.”
    A vise clenched Molly’s heart. “Are you sure?”
    Randy nodded and then turned and whipped past them. “Rocket loves me, and I love him.” He swung around to face Brent. “Can I have Rocket?”
    Brent looked as if the weight