Runnin’ with the Big Dogs

By Christine Levy

Colleen is charmed when she meets Trevor at a singles dance in upstate New York. Although she feels a spark with the guy, Colleen has been through the ringer of relationships, so shes hesitant to jump into dating again. Soon, though, as things progress, Trevor begins to rock her world in ways she only fantasized about.

She comes to realize that being with Trevor means being with his family, the McAndrews. Theyre a tight-knit group, akin to a packfull of fun and frolic but also some serious competition. Colleen joins the action, whether it be playing video games or going on early morning fishing trips in the great outdoors.

Trevor and his family seek her attention, loyalty, and love, and Colleen basks in familial camaraderie. She feels adored yet sometimes overwhelmed by Trevors feelings for her, but her feelings are rapidly approaching amazing heights of their own. Before she gets too involved, she must make a decision: will she run with the packor run free?

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Dec 8, 2014
• ISBN: 9781490860008

Christine Levy

Christine Levy is retired but volunteers with organizations that draw her heart. She and her husband and two dogs live in Prescott Valley, Arizona. Runnin’ with the Big Dogs reflects true events that occurred in Levy’s life.

Book preview

Copyright © 2014 Christine Levy.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.westbowpress.com

1 [phone]

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-4908-6001-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4908-6002-2 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4908-6000-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014920833

WestBow Press rev. date: 12/02/2014

Contents

Preface

Chapter 1 The Dance

Chapter 2 Creative Connections

Chapter 3 Stan the Social Man

Chapter 4 Three’s Company

Chapter 5 More Creative Connections

Chapter 6 Come Play with Me

Chapter 7 Maggie

Chapter 8 Meet the McAndrews Family

Chapter 9 Jeremy

Chapter 10 Camp

Chapter 11 Camp, Week Two

Chapter 12 Randy

Chapter 13 Woes

Chapter 14 Party Hardy

Epilogue

To Joan, Matt, and Mom, my greatest supporters.

Preface

Most of the events in this story occurred during a period in my life that I call the darkness before the dawn. I pray that you will be patient with me as we descend into the shadows.

In the following pages, you will see that my experiences were based on a totally self-seeking, self-gratifying allegiance to Christine Levy, portrayed in the character Colleen. I made no uplifting choices and would not show repentance and allow Christ to lead me down the path of righteousness until much later. Although Jesus was there all the time, waiting patiently for me to repent and to lead a lifestyle pleasing to Him, I made choices that were contrary to His will for my life and that deeply affected the lives of others.

Jesus never stopped searching for me. He never stops searching for all of us. His constant love and concern for my wholeness won out in my life. Without the love of Jesus Christ, we would be lost persons destined for an eternity of hell and weeping and gnashing of teeth.

American society boasts of its independence and declares a right to choose. Most choices are contrary to the message of healing, restoration, and righteousness. One of the choices most often made by people in our society is to cohabit outside of marriage either as same-sex partners or as heterosexual couples. Christ wants marriage to be a lifelong covenant between a man and a woman only, witnessed by relatives and peers in a dignified ceremony as they make this commitment to each other.

There are many pages between the Christine of the old nature and the redeemed Christine. I hope that you recognize the change that Christ makes in an individual. He asks for all. The result of this commitment is eternal life in the presence of almighty God and His angels with love beyond measure in the arms of Christ. That is His promise to anyone who will believe on His name and repent.

Chapter 1

The Dance

Trevor McAndrews was the man of my dreams. I don’t think he ever knew that, and I wouldn’t have wanted him to. That information was too personal. After all, if someone is the object of another person’s dreams, he rises above the crowd in personality, charm, and wit. And Trevor certainly did.

Trevor and I met at a singles dance. He attracted my attention because he looked so comical as he entered the room. He had brought a friend with him, and there was a big difference in their heights. Trevor towered over Stan—they looked like the proverbial Mutt and Jeff—and it was an amusing sight.

Trevor looked like he couldn’t have cared less about being there. Stan, on the other hand, looked like he was glad he had come.

I wanted to be at the dance. After all, it was Saturday night, and I needed a diversion from my weekday routine at the office. My secretarial job, though interesting at times, seemed awfully dull when Friday night rolled around—and was history by Saturday. I loved my job, but I loved dancing on Saturday nights as well.

Even so, I attended this dance rather hesitantly with my friend Jo-Marie. It was a cold, mid-October night, and I would have preferred to stay in for the evening. More important, I was recently divorced from a man who was anything but my best friend. But Jo-Marie insisted we go because she loved dancing.

Wear that nice purple sweater you have. It’ll go great with your red hair! Jo-Marie shouted as she headed for the refrigerator to grab something to munch on before leaving for the dance.

We arrived a few minutes late, and I felt all the excitement of taking a biology midterm. Jo-Marie was looking for fun, but as I scanned the room and saw the men leaning against the walls I was unimpressed. What a motley crew they were! Even for 1998! All sizes and shapes were represented. I was amused to note that these adult men were in the same positions they might have occupied at a high school dance. I wasn’t afraid to ask someone to dance, but no one looked appealing—until Trevor arrived.

Trevor stood six foot three and appeared to weigh about 180 pounds. He was a long, cool drink of water. His dark hair was neatly combed and his mustache trimmed to perfection. I quickly assessed his frame and approved of the skin-tight jeans and the T-shirt he was wearing.

This might be a fun night after all, I thought.

Jo-Marie also saw Trevor and Stan arrive, but just then she was distracted by a couple of dancers who appeared to be bumping into the stage. I gave her the sign and we moved to a table near that spot.

Almost as soon as we sat down, we were asked to dance. Jo-Marie gladly accepted, but I declined, saying that I was about to get drinks for us. The man said his name was Carmen, and he gallantly offered to accompany me to the bar to purchase the drinks. I politely refused and said I wasn’t interested in a relationship at the moment and he might do better looking for company elsewhere. He must have believed me because he excused himself and that was the last I saw of him for at least an hour.

I returned to the table and began searching for Trevor and Stan. I had lost track of them when I went to the bar. I was relieved to find them sitting at a table kitty corner from us. Now that is definitely convenient, I mused.

But then I noticed there were two women with them. Uh-oh, I thought, biting my lip. Meeting these guys was definitely going to be challenging!

I had been to dances at this place and at other sites around Syracuse, New York, where I lived. I liked to call Syracuse Oz because of the lush green hills and forests. The winters were frustrating, though, because of the never-ending lake-effect snow that would cover the city like a sheet of cold, slick satin. People weren’t meant to venture from their cozy homes to face the onslaught of the Syracuse snowflake.

Nevertheless, the city boasted a highly respected university, a plethora of state and county parks, and even a downtown Winterfest where steaming bowls of chili warmed those brave enough to face the outdoors.

Jo-Marie let her dark hair fly and scooted into the seat next to me. Why aren’t you dancing? she demanded.

I guess I don’t feel like it.

Well, get your two feet moving, and just consider it exercise, if nothing else.

I loved Jo-Marie. She was part military general, part mother, and part herself. (She was also part lndian and part English. I guess that’s why she was so feisty and matronly at the same time.)

Trevor danced a few fast dances with one of the women at his table. When they were slow dancing, Ikept my eyes on their every movement. She was short, and when they danced, she seemed to be looking more at the floor that at him. That made me wonder if he had bad breath. Stan sat at the table by himself.

I don’t know what made me do it, but I went over and asked him to dance. The next song was fast, and we made our way to the front of the hall. I thought he was just being polite, and maybe he was, but we talked for a few seconds after the song ended.

I was perplexed. The two women sat at the table with Trevor and Stan, yet they exchanged hardly any words with each other or with the two men. They seemed bored when they danced, yet they stayed at the table.

I had switched seats with Jo-Marie so that I could comfortably look at the table without appearing to stare. I danced two more times just to be polite, but I preferred to sit and scope out Trevor.

The DJ suddenly announced a request for a polka. Jo-Marie had probably put him up to it. Surprisingly, half of the people got up to dance. The onlookers, including me, got out of their chairs and surrounded the dance floor like Romans watching a chariot race.

Let’s see who falls or trips over their own two feet, Jo-Marie said with a chuckle. Now I knew she was the culprit. If anyone could shake up an uneventful, unexciting singles dance, it would be Jo-Marie.

When no one fell or tripped and everyone returned to sit or to stand against the walls, Jo-Marie had to concede that maybe the night’s atmosphere was dismal after all. She wouldn’t be able to put together a party.

Let’s go get something to eat, she finally suggested.

I had no reason to argue with her other than the fact that I was keeping an eye on Trevor. I need to go to the ladies’ room. I’ll be right back, I replied quickly.

Jo-Marie said she would dance one last time with some lucky guy, and I headed for the restroom.

I washed my hands and combed my hair and started back to connect with Jo-Marie, but as fate would have it, outside of the adjacent men’s room I discovered the man I’d been watching all evening. In the brighter light of the hallway, he looked human—approachable and real.

This is some fun, isn’t it? That polka was pretty lively. That’s all I could come up with on such short notice.

He agreed. I saw you dancing with my friend Stan, he stated matter-of- factly. I quickly told him that Stan was a nice person and that I’d enjoyed the dance.

My name is Trevor, and you are—?

Colleen. I’m the receptionist at Dexter, Adams, and Fitch. If anyone calls the office, they speak to me first—that is, unless I’m in the ladies’ room.

Trevor chuckled, and I knew I’d given him information that I hoped he would follow up on. Yes, I sounded like a desperate woman, but destiny had given us only a few minutes. I thought Trevor was charming.

Well, it was nice to meet you, Colleen. Maybe I’ll see you at another dance.

Maybe.

He walked toward the door of the dancehall but turned back to briefly face me. By the way, I love red hair! He winked at me and walked casually through the doorway just as Jo-Marie came striding out of the dancehall.

So Lady Luck smiled on you, my friend said knowingly.

Yes, she did—I think she did. His name is Trevor, but I know nothing about him!

He looked like he would like to know something about you.

Icouldn’t go back inside the hall. I didn’t want to tempt fate, and besides, Jo-Marie—my dear friend—was starving. I suggested pizza, and she wanted a burger, so we compromised and went for pie and coffee.

Chapter 2

Creative Connections

Three weeks went by. I had heard nothing from Trevor.

His memory stayed with me, and I often visualized his face and his frame. I hated being a woman; having to wait for a call that might never come was annoying. But I had no way to contact him, and I knew nothing about him.

Because I was frustrated, I tried not to think about the situation. Thank goodness I had plenty of work to do at the office. It was a welcome diversion. My company was advertising special financing for its product, and everyone interested in a sale was taking advantage of the offer. My coworkers and I were going home in a state of exhaustion nearly every night, and soaking in the tub had become my evening entertainment. There had been only one more singles dance at the club on the city’s east side. Jo-Marie and I had gone. She was reluctant to attend, but I convinced her that this might be my only chance to reconnect with Trevor. My long shot came up empty. He never showed.

On a Tuesday I was examining the files on the corner of my desk, trying to decide which ones I should enter into the computer.

By the way, Sophia mentioned matter-of-factly, some guy called for you when you went to lunch. He said he would call back.

I nearly shouted for joy. I wanted to grab her by the arm and dance with glee. Did he leave his name? I managed to ask.

No, she answered dully.

My data entry skills suffered for the next two hours. Whenever the switchboard rang, I hoped it would be Trevor calling. Finally, at three o’clock, the mystery caller was on the line.

Colleen speaking. May I help you? Iheard myself respond in a quiet, professional manner.

Colleen? This is Stan. I know that we only met briefly at the dance at the Playhouse awhile ago, but you had told my buddy Trevor how to contact you, and I was wondering if you would like to get a drink somewhere Friday night? He seemed to say that in one