18
I must be out of my mind agreeing to this. Driving together? Having Sunday lunch at his aunts’ place? Training the dogs side by side? But I did say I’d stop at nothing to get Cho ready, and if it puts me back in the race for $15,000… I’m going to win this thing, and then I’m going to rub Leo’s much-too-handsome face in it. In a civil way, of course.
“Isn’t it going to be weird for your aunts that I’m coming along?” I ask in the car. All the dogs are hanging out in the back, and so far, there’s been no circus. Well, no circus except Boris letting out melodic howls every time an old-school country song comes on. My grandma only listened to the likes of Loretta Lynn, Patsy Cline, and Dolly so we think he’s singing along out of appreciation, but of course it could also be him trying to drown out the sound because he hates it. Tilly and Cholula are sleeping next to each other as if they’re litter mates.
Leo drives with one hand, the other arm resting against the center console. He showered and changed out of his running clothes, but he’s still dressed more casually than usual in jeans and a threadbare black Yale hoodie. He’s pushed the sleeves up his arms, and the muscles in his forearm tense and relax beneath the skin when he shifts his grip. I try not to notice.
“They’re looking forward to it.” He glances at me, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. How is he so at ease in this situation? “The more people the merrier. But I should warn you, they’re pretty nosy, so prepare for the third degree.”
That makes me even more flustered. “Is it okay if I open a window?”
“Knock yourself out.”
The cool air helps. “You should warn them they’ll be disappointed. I’m not particularly interesting.”
“You sure about that?” He looks at me again, longer this time. “Everyone has secrets.”
I snort. “If I did, I wouldn’t tell you. You’re my opposition, remember? I’m not going to supply the ammunition.”
“This again? I mean, I’m obviously going to win the fifteen grand, but I’m telling you, Canine King’s existence doesn’t mean an automatic eradication of Happy Paws.”
He really believes it, I can tell. Wall Street must have messed him up. How do I make him see it the way I do? “Remember at the launch—there was a woman there with two black labs?” I ask.
“Sure.”
“And that couple in matching parkas with the beagle?”
“Yeah?”
“And the lady with the tight gray perm who was talking to your aunt?”
“What’s your point?”
“I know all of them.” I rattle off their names as well as the names of their dogs. “They’ve been loyal to Harvey for years, and yet, there they were, in your store. So you’ll have to forgive me if I have a slightly different take on this situation.”
He looks like he’s thinking hard. Did I finally get through his thick skull?
“I see what you’re saying, but—”
I groan. Apparently not.
“No, no, hear me out.” He switches hands on the wheel. “What you’re saying is, you can only be successful if you get to keep doing things the way you’ve always done them, for the same customers you’ve always had with complete monopoly.”
Successful might be a stretch…
He continues. “You’re assuming because they’ve checked out Canine King that they’ll deem it superior when what you should be doing is ensuring they won’t. I’m the underdog here. You’re already established.”
I frown at him. Pop used the same term.
“Take the Winter Fest show—have you already decided you can’t win?”
“No, I wouldn’t be here if I had.”
“Right. And yet you view the ‘competition’ between our stores as a done deal. Why?”
“There you go again, admitting we’re competitors.”
“No, I used air quotes. My point is, you’re going to do your best to win first place at the dog show, why not do your best to be number one in business, too? You might find something positive will come of it.”
Am I going nuts or is he making sense? The urge to argue is still there, but I’m having a hard time coming up with a rebuttal. “It wouldn’t bother you if Happy Paws did better than Canine King?”
“Not at all. It would inspire me to keep up.”
I shake my head and look away. “You’re weird.”
He lets out a hearty laugh that makes my cold, cold ticker warm at the edges. “I’ll take it.”
We drive the rest of the way in silence. Maybe change can be positive. Maybe all I have to do is give our customers reasons to stay loyal. It’s like a lid has been lifted off my bucket of possibilities.
“We’re here.” Leo points out the side window toward a beautiful farmhouse at the end of a dirt road. There’s a large barn behind the main house and a smaller outbuilding to the left. The property is lined by huge oak trees and surrounded by endless cornfields.
Three Australian shepherds come running to the edge of the fenced-in backyard when we park. Tilly starts whining the moment she sees them.
“Are you excited to see your siblings?” Leo asks.
“They’re all beautiful,” I say.
“You should tell Diane that. She’ll love you forever.”
I leash up my three mutts and follow Leo to the house. “Should I leave them outside?”
“It’s up to you. It’s a dog-friendly house, and Tilly is coming with me.”
Inside it is. Cholula wouldn’t stand for being separated from her new best friend.
“Hello, hello, I’m Dawn.” The aunt I wasn’t introduced to at the launch comes down the hallway, arms outstretched.
I try to remain in the background while Leo greets her, but he ushers me forward. “Cora Lewis from across the street.”
“Of course. Oh, that’s some gorgeous hair you have there. Like a forest nymph.”
Never heard that one before.
“And who are these three charmers?” She stoops down to the dogs’ level.
Cholula immediately starts licking her hand, Cap sits and lifts his front paw, and Boris lays down with his head on his front feet. I introduce them, and Dawn offers plenty of head scratches.
Diane comes out from what I assume is the kitchen. “Sorry, I had to check on the chicken. Hi!” She hugs Leo and then goes straight for me. “Welcome, welcome. I’m so glad this worked out.”
I’m starting to feel like a celebrity.
“Wow, you guys have gone all out,” Leo says when we enter the kitchen. “Are you expecting more people?”
In front of us on a large granite island is a spread of roast chicken, gravy, two veggie sides, bread rolls, a salad, and a pitcher of lemonade. The room itself is moderate in size but made bigger by a bay-windowed nook with a round table and four chairs. A tall plant sits in a woven pot in one corner, and on the walls hang framed art of varying sizes. Some are clearly made by children while others show defter skills.
“No, just us.” Diane places a cork coaster on the counter for the homemade steak fries. “We just added a couple of sides after you texted earlier. No biggie.”
“It’s not always like this,” Leo says to me. “I should bring you along more frequently.”
“I think we’d all enjoy that,” Dawn says with a wink.
Okay…
Leo glances my way. “Let’s just eat, so we can get outside.”
“Now, Cora,” Diane says when we’re all seated in front of loaded plates, “will this be your first time competing in a dog show?”
I finish chewing a mouthful of garlicky chicken and nod. “Yeah, I doubt our dogs would be allowed within fifty feet of a regular show.” I look over my shoulder at Boris, Cho, and Cap. Cholula looks up, her tongue flopping sideways out her mouth like a tie set askew. “They’re not exactly purebreds.”
Diane keeps asking questions about how the dogs came to be in our care. I tell her the story of my grandma’s shelter and how Pop had to downsize when she died.
“I always liked Martha,” Diane says of my grandmother. “She and my mom were friends. You look a lot like her.”
“I do?”
“She wore her hair in a braid like that, too. She could almost sit on it. I remember admiring it when I was little.”
This is news to me. As long as I knew her, she wore her hair in a wavy, shoulder-length bob.
The conversation delves deeper into Diane’s childhood, and I learn that she and Leo’s mom, Annabeth, grew up right here in this house, and that it’s been in their family for two generations before that. “We’ve had some work done to it, of course, but the general layout is the same,” Diane says. “A good, old family homestead. What do your parents do, Cora?”
“They were dentists. They retired when I was in high school and sold the house so they could travel. I moved in with my grandparents.”
“Wait, they left you?” Leo asks, frowning.
Dawn shares a look with Diane. “And you were okay with that?”
My parents told me the day the realtor came by to get the house ready for showings. They’d already talked to my grandparents and bought me an old Corolla so I’d be able to drive myself to school. Everything was taken care of. But, no, I wouldn’t say I was okay with it. I was sixteen, and my parents were done being parents.
“It’s not a big deal,” I say, ignoring the sympathy suffusing the air. “They worked hard. They deserve to spend their time however they want.” I move a piece of bread to the other side of my plate, grab my glass of lemonade, and then set it back down. No one’s ever asked me to explain this before. “It’s their life. Their choice.”
Leo puts his silverware on the empty plate with a clang. “Enough with the third degree you two,” he says as if sensing my need for a topic change. “How about some dessert?”
“Yes, good idea.” Dawn gets out of her chair. “There’s apple pie and ice cream.”
I smile up at Leo, grateful for the diversion. It’s not that I don’t understand how my parents’ decision might rub people the wrong way, but I’m not going to throw them under the bus. We were always like that; my parents did their thing, I did mine. I would have been more surprised if they had asked my opinion. “Sounds wonderful. As long as we keep it away from Boris. Apple is his favorite. I’ll help clear the table.”
“Sorry we’re so nosy,” Dawn says to me in the kitchen. “I get it. Families are complicated. I moved out at seventeen and never looked back.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, but they were assholes. Not keen on me ‘choosing’ a life without a husband and kids.” She nods at the framed wedding invitation next to the window.
“Ah.” I skim the cursive writing that’s framed by a garland of wildflowers:
Diane Kurtz & Dawn McInnis
July 10, 2014
Something stirs in my mind. McInnis —where have I heard that name before?
“Yeah, tradition before everything else. Kind of like Leo’s dad.”
My ears perk up, and I push the previous thought away. “How so?”
“John’s a hard man.” Dawn shakes her head. “Adores Annabeth like she’s one of the seven wonders of the world, which I suppose is something, but he was always tough on those boys. They could do nothing right. And he only got worse after the accident.”
Leo has a brother? What accident? There’s so much I don’t know.
“Poor Annabeth. Never been the same.” Dawn sighs.
Just then, Leo comes around the corner. “What do you say we head out to the field?”
I tear my attention away from Dawn. That’s right. That’s what we’re actually doing here.
My curiosity will have to wait. Time to get this training thing started.