“Yes, you can. I’m holding him. He won’t hurt you.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I just had such a good time working at Anne’s and got to the house and Mom wasn’t there and then here you all are at the beach, and I just forgot—” She stopped short. Her large eyes are on Guy.

“Come closer, Joy,” Jack repeats quietly. “It’s important for Guy.”

The dog should be panting from the run, but instead stands still as stone. He is deadeye focused on Joy, who, despite the baby steps she takes, is nearly as still.

Not me, though. My pulse is racing, hands fisted against my throat. As I watch, all I can think, absurdly, is that we need a dog treat, why doesn’t Jack have a dog treat, where are the dog treats—and when none appear from the pockets of Jack’s shorts, I think of the gun that he claims my father has. If I had a gun in my hand, I wouldn’t feel so helpless.

“That’s right,” Jack coaxes as Joy nears. “Good Guy,” he murmurs at the dog’s ear. “See, she’s more frightened than you are.”

“He’s frightened?” Joy asks.

“Absolutely. Where he came from, someone rushing at him was not a good thing. He was trained to attack if he wanted to live. So now we have to retrain him. It’s about trust. He’s learning, but he has setbacks.”

“I’m sooo sorry,” Joy whispers, this time to the dog.

“Hold out your hand,” Jack says. “He’ll recognize you.”

Her hand is remarkably steady. I hold my breath until the dog has sniffed, identified, and pushed his head under her hand. With the wag of his tail, the moment is over, the tension gone.

I’m slower to relax than Joy. Vaguely, I’m aware of a discussion between Jack and her, but I’m having a mother moment in which the world is filled with danger that can at any time take away my child. I want to shout No! when Joy kneels on the sand. I want to restrain the dog myself when Jack lets go and steps back. And when Guy sidles close to Joy, his blonde body wagging, I wait.

“They’re fine.” Jack is standing beside me now. “No need to panic.”

“Of course, there’s need,” I argue, but I’m still weak in the knees. “Dogs kill children.”

“That wouldn’t have happened. I’m right here.”

“Like you’d have been able to stop it?”

“I would have. Can’t you trust me on this?”

I feel his eyes on me, but my own don’t leave Joy. “I could see the headlines, Jack. Girl mauled to death on Rhode Island beach.”

“That would not have happened. My dog is not a danger if common sense is applied. Look at him, Mallory. Look at him.”