Happily Letter After(15)
I hesitated but began to walk back up the stairs again. My knees shook more and more with each one. When I got to the front door, Sebastian was already inside. I took a few cautious steps into the vestibule, and out of nowhere, I was attacked.
Alright. So “attacked” might not be the right word. But I was suddenly knocked on my ass, with two giant paws pressed to my chest holding me down. And the biggest tongue I’d ever seen began to slurp the side of my face.
“Marmaduke,” Sebastian yelled. The giant black-and-white-spotted Great Dane looked over his shoulder and practically laughed at the big, angry man looking down at him. He then proceeded to go back to licking my face.
After the shock wore off, I was somehow able to push the behemoth off me. I wiped the saliva from my face and climbed to my feet, only to find Sebastian looking not so happy. What the hell? I was the one who had just gotten pillaged, not him.
He put his hands on his hips. “I seriously hope that wasn’t a demonstration of your training skills. You had less control over him than I do.”
I got annoyed. “What do you expect? He knocked me over without warning. Nice of you to extend a hand to help me up, by the way.”
Sebastian scowled. “You don’t look German.”
I dusted off my pants. “Well, that’s probably because I’m not.”
He squinted at me. “Then why do you teach your training commands in German?”
Oh shit. “Umm.” I blinked a few times before pulling an answer out of my ass. “Please don’t start questioning my methods already. If you don’t want me to train your dog, who clearly needs training that you’re not capable of providing, then say so, and I’ll just be on my way.”
The corner of Sebastian’s lips twitched upward. “Fine. I’ll get his leash.”
Seriously? What the hell was I doing? I had needed a visit to Dr. Emery to discuss my actions surrounding a little girl who had written to Santa. What did pretending to be a dog trainer who taught commands in German warrant, then? Being institutionalized? Lord, how the hell did I get myself here?
Sebastian came back with the leash and handed it to me. I was surprised when he softened his tone and extended his hand. “I apologize. I didn’t introduce myself. That dog just gets the best of me sometimes. I’m Sebastian Maxwell, and I assume you must be Gretchen.”
Gretchen. Of course! Because the woman not from Germany who trains in German would logically be named Gretchen. I put my hand into his large one and shook. The minute my skin made contact with his, my pulse took off like a runaway train. When his grip tightened around my hand, it sent a shock of electricity up my arm. Great, more unsettling behavior to discuss with Dr. Emery—though it did make sense that I lit up like a Christmas tree, since I was damn Santa Claus. I’d need a loan to pay for my therapy sessions after today.
Pulling my hand back, I focused on getting the hell out of there. Apparently, I’d be taking my new student with me. I managed to clasp the end of the leash onto Marmaduke’s collar and did my best impersonation of a professional animal handler. “Okay. So I’ll be back in an hour.” I tugged at the giant dog’s collar, and amazingly, he followed. Just to solidify that I was totally losing it, I turned back at the top of the steps and smiled at Sebastian Maxwell. “Danke.”
After I said it, I started to question whether that was even German for “thank you” or not. Oh well, too late if it wasn’t. Marmaduke bolted down the stairs, and I had to run to keep up. At the bottom, I stood my ground and yanked hard on his leash.
“Whoa . . . ,” I said.
Shit. Whoa? That was for a horse and in English, wasn’t it? I looked over my shoulder and back up the stairs, hoping Sebastian had gone back inside and hadn’t heard me. Of course, I had no such luck.
Sebastian stood at the top of the stairs watching me. He looked really damn skeptical.
Yeah, you and me both, dude. You and me both.
Marmaduke and I went to a nearby park that had a doggy run, which meant I could let him off the leash in the fenced-in area while I googled dog training.
I spent a good half hour reading up on the basics of schooling a dog on obedience and then asked Google for reasons to train a dog in German. Surprisingly, it was more common than I would’ve guessed. Many people trained dogs in the native language of the breed. And who knew . . . a Great Dane wasn’t actually Danish—it was of German descent. So that made sense, I guess. Plus, training in a foreign language made it easier for the animal not to get confused when others used common words near them. I also looked up a couple of words for basic training in German. Sitz, pronounced zitz, meant “sit.” Platz, pronounced plah-tz, meant “down,” and nein, pronounced nine, meant “no.” I figured Marmaduke desperately needed those three words in his life.
The one good thing about a big puppy with a lot of energy was that he wore himself out pretty fast. Once he seemed more subdued, I took him out of the doggy area and went and found a quiet tree to sit under and work on training him.
He laid his enormous body across my legs. I petted him as I spoke. “So, Marmaduke, tell me about the people you live with. Is Sebastian as much of a jerk as he seemed like back at the house? He’s definitely not anything like I’d expected him to be after hearing about him from Birdie.” When I said “Birdie,” Marmaduke started to wag his tail. I wanted to see if it was a coincidence or not. So I waited until his tail stopped wagging and then talked to him a little more. “Yeah. So I expected a really nice guy, maybe soft-spoken, even though he’s clearly a big dude like you. But Sebastian’s kind of a meanie, isn’t he?”