Free Dad in Training by Gail Gaymer Martin Page A

behavior improved.
    A black Lab pulled away from a student, his leash dragging across the floor while the girl chased after him. The dog headed straight for Brent. Before he could stand, the dog plopped a paw on each knee and swiped his tongue across Brent’s turned cheek.
    “Get down,” Brent said, trying to grab the leash.
    The girl grasped the strap from him. “Teddy. Off.”
    The dog stepped down and sat in front of him.
    “Good boy, Teddy.” The girl ruffled his head and handed him a small piece of dry dog food.
    “Good boy,” Brent repeated and then looked up at the girl. “You did a nice job.”
    “You didn’t.”
    His head jerked back. He reminded himself she was a special needs student.
    “‘Get down’ confuses a dog. ‘Down’ means lay on the floor. They don’t even know what ‘get’ means.” She stared him straight in the eyes. “You have to say ‘off.’ Trained dogs know that.”
    Brent wanted to laugh. “Thank you. I’ll remember that.”
    “Good.” She stood there a moment and then extended the leash. “Want to walk him?”
    “Meg.”
    Molly’s firm voice surprised Brent.
    She looked at the girl with a scowl as she strutted across the floor. “You need to join the class. Next week we have more visitors who’ll watch how well you work with the dogs. You need to practice.”
    “I know,” the girl said as she drew the leash tighter and headed back to the center of the room with Teddy at her heels.
    Molly dug her hands into her pockets. “Sorry. They’re supposed to keep a tight rein on them.”
    “It’s okay, Molly. She really did a nice job. She even gave me a little lesson.”
    “I hope she wasn’t rude.”
    Rude? He thought about the way he’d treated Molly. The student had been no ruder than he’d been. “Blunt, not rude.”
    She bit the corner of her lip and backed away, tilting her head toward the students. “I need to get back to work.”
    So did he, but he didn’t move. He watched Molly with the kids—loving but firm, teaching and rewarding. Brent lowered his head, thinking of his father’s orders to learn to be a dad. He had much to learn about discipline and everything to learn about loving.

Chapter Five
    B rent wants to talk with me.
    Molly peered at the text message and reread it. Call me about Teacher’s Pet . She pressed her cell phone against her chest, her heart hammering against her palm.
    Dreams were for dreaming, but some were for living. Molly’s hope rose. Maybe her heart’s desire could become a reality. She closed her eyes to stem her tears and then opened them again to eye the wall clock. She counted the minutes before lunch. Her students’ questions swirled in her mind until she could sort them and answer as she always did. The note barraged her thoughts, and she couldn’t let it go.
    The bell sounded. Students gathered their materials and put books away, then scampered out the door. Some lagged behind with last-minute questions or feared leaving the sanctity of the classroom, where they knew they were accepted. No matter what problem hampered them, some students enjoyed raising their own self-esteem by putting down others. She tried to teach them to respect everyone, but sometimes she failed.
    “See you tomorrow, Roxie.” She waved at one of her newest students, a transfer from out of state.
    Molly closed the door and stepped away from the bustle ofthe corridor where lockers clanged and students called out insults as they passed each other. No wonder her job seemed endless.
    Near the window, she pulled her cell phone from her pants pocket and hit the number and waited.
    It rang twice and then stopped. She eyed her cell phone display. Call failed . She sank into the chair, clutching the phone, and tried again.
    Call failed.
    Slamming her hand on her desk, Molly pressed her forehead against the wood. She could picture Brent’s deep blue eyes, the occasional sparkle and vulnerable looks that appeared and then faded away. How deep was his