49
Y ou’re snoring.”
“Huh?” I jolt awake the following morning to find Micki seated at the foot of the couch I’m calling home for a few more nights until Jaz moves out.
“Like a logger with a deviated septum.” Her recently coral-streaked tresses are on end, bringing to mind the villain of some animated fairy tale or other.
“What time is it?”
“Time for you to wake up so I can get a couple more hours of snooze. Were you always this annoying of a roommate?”
I throw my pillow at her and pull the covers up again.
“Oh no you don’t.” She yanks the blanket off me and backs away. “You’re getting up, and on your way home tonight, you’ll pick up a pack of earplugs for me and some nose spray for you. That way I won’t have to kill you.” She tosses the blanket in a chair off to the side and stalks back to her room.
“But I’m tired,” I call after her. “And I do have a deviated septum,” I mutter to myself. “Some of us are born that way.”
I reach for my phone to get my bearings straight. It’s Friday, December 10. “What the hell?” I whisper when I notice the time. Five thirty in the morning. I give Micki’s closed door a glare and swing my legs off the side of the couch. How odd not to have the dogs under my feet first thing. Here there’s no movement, no noise at all.
The winter fair opens tomorrow, which means showtime, which means do or die for Happy Paws. Now that Harvey is back to run the store, I should spend some time today making sure Cholula and Cap are ready. I’ve made a cape for my little star, similar to Tilly’s, and I know she’ll be perfect. The question is—will it be enough?
There are no messages from Leo, and he hasn’t updated his social media or posted on the server. My fingers hover over the keys. I want to know how the interview went yesterday. Want to know how he’s doing. As much as I still want to slap some sense into him, I’m not a robot. I can’t simply turn off what we had together. If only this was his apartment, his couch, his…
No. Stop. It.
Leo has made his choice.
I push off my seat and pull a clean shirt out of my suitcase. If I’m not allowed to sleep, I might as well get a head start on my day. Look forward. If Leo is gone, that means one less distraction.
It’s quiet and dark upstairs when I enter the store through the back door thirty minutes later. Harvey is typically an early riser, but who knows how long Sylvia stayed after I left. The two of them have a never-ending vault of conversation topics it seems, and as much as I know I was a welcome third party, I don’t think either of the two were sad to see me go once we’d finished our burgers and truffle fries. Yes, burgers. Fancy ones. She knows her way to Pop’s heart, that’s for sure. I like them together.
I tiptoe to the front desk, grab my sewing machine, and bring it into the storage room. It’s not an ideal workspace, but I don’t want to wake anyone up. It’s odd that not even Cholula has stirred. She’s a light sleeper and normally hears the mail truck at the end of the block. She must be extra tired, too, from having Harvey back.
Around seven forty-five, I’m caught up on Etsy orders and pat myself on the back for not lingering on Micki’s couch this morning. I stretch and yawn. Then I wrap my coat around me to go get the paper since I know Harvey is going to want that with his breakfast.
As I step outside, Dawn unlocks the front door of Canine King to do the same. She sees me and waves. “How are you, hon?” she calls, stepping closer to the curb.
A car goes by between us, then another. This is no way to have a conversation. I look both ways, and when the coast is clear, I jog gingerly across the salted roadway. She gives me a hug when I reach her.
“Jaz said you’d be taking over today,” I say. “You’ll have to let me know if you have any questions or anything I can help with.”
“He left a list.” Dawn smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
I nod. “Of course, he did.”
For a moment, neither one of us seems to know what to say, but then Dawn puts her hand on my arm. “If it makes you feel any better, Diane and I told him in no uncertain terms he’s acting a fool and then some. All the work he’s done since he came to stay with us—for nothing.”
“Yeah…” I pinch my coat tighter at the neck. “I don’t get it.”
“Have you heard from him?” she asks.
I shake my head. “I don’t expect to. We didn’t leave things in a great place.”
“Aw, hon.” Another hug. It makes me want to cry again.
“Have you?”
“He texted Diane last night to check in on Tilly. Sounds like the interview went well, or whatever you want to call it. Said he has a second one today at some fancy restaurant.”
I was wrong, having it confirmed does not make it better. “Well, there you have it.”
Dawn’s face pulls into an apologetic grimace. “I’m sorry. But don’t lose heart yet. As much as he tries to hide it, he does have a good head on his shoulders. He could come to his senses.”
I’m not holding my breath. I wave the newspaper in front of me. “I should bring this to Harvey,” I say. “Good luck today.”
“And to you, tomorrow. We’ll come cheer you on.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Nonsense.” A genuine smile now. “We’ll be there.”
I enter the store, cold both of body and heart, but now there’s life upstairs—Harvey’s cane-supported gait and the pitter patter of doggy toenails. My stomach rumbles. I find Harvey at the table with a fresh cup of coffee in his hands. “You’re up early,” he says. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“Something like that.” I get myself a mug and sit down. Boris is in his old favorite spot near Harvey’s feet, and Cap sits next to him, following Harvey’s hand from table to mouth as he eats his English muffin. “Where’s Cho?” I ask, not seeing her.
“On her bed. Still snoozing.”
I squint at the shaded hallway. That doesn’t sound like her. I get up to have a look. Sure enough, she’s still curled into a ball in the middle of her blankets, but when I crouch down next to her, she lifts her head slightly and looks at me through heavy lids. A low whine escapes her, and her head drops back onto the pillow.
“What’s wrong, girl?” I ask, running my fingers across her head. Then I see it—the paw she cut on the snow is twice its normal size.
Our regular vet isn’t open yet, so the pet ER it is. I cradle Cholula in my arms as we wait our turn and tell her what a good girl she is and how the doctor will make everything better. She tries to lick my face but doesn’t have the energy to reach all the way, so instead her tongue flops limply against my jacket. “I know,” I whisper. “I’ve got you.”
The fact is, I haven’t got her. I let Leo distract me, and Cho ran out and got hurt. I’m responsible for this. I swallow against the knot in my throat. She’ll get better, she has to. I stroke Cho’s side and inspect the angry limb. Her foot is shiny and distended, a balloon ready to pop. Poor thing.
“We’re ready for Cholula,” the assistant says from the doorway.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I ignore it. I’ve got my hands full.
After the vet does a thorough examination, I brace for the verdict.
“It’s a pretty nasty infection,” she says. “We’ll administer an antibiotic shot today and send you with an oral round that she needs to finish. She should start improving after the weekend. You’ll also have to clean and rebandage the foot regularly until it’s healed. The tech will show you how.”
“But you think she’ll be okay?”
“Yes. I’m glad you brought her in today.” She scratches Cholula’s ear and pauses to look at her pupils. “Tell you what—bring her back in tomorrow so we can make sure she doesn’t get worse. That will let us change the bandage, too.”
I nod, resisting the urge to hug this stranger for her kindness. “Thank you.”
My phone buzzes again, and I pull it out of my pocket. It’s Harvey. Two missed calls. I frown.
“We’re going to get her all cleaned up if you want to take that,” the vet says. “We’ll come get you when she’s ready.”
I nod a thanks and head outside. It rings only once before Harvey picks up.
“How’s she doing?” he asks. He must love the dog even more than I thought. I relay what the vet told me, and he sighs in relief. “When do you think you’ll be back?”
“They’re bandaging her up now. Thirty to forty minutes? Why?”
“Well”—Harvey pauses—“there’s a bit of a situation.”
Panic rises inside me. He’d better not have fallen again. He doesn’t sound like he’s in pain. “Are you okay?”
“Sure, sure.” Another pause. “Except, I’m stuck in the stairlift.”
“You’re what?”
“It seems like… well… the power went out.”
“And you’re…”
“In the lift. I probably could make my way down. There’s about six steps left, but—”
“No, don’t risk it.” Fucking hell, this morning. “I’ll call Micki. She might be at work by now. If not, I’ll be home as soon as I can.” A nauseating tide of shame builds within me as I look at the clock, at the clinic, at my car. I never paid the overdue bill at the end of the month. Amid everything else, it slipped my mind. Now Harvey, too, will know just how much of a screwup I am.
It’s at that moment that the greater implication of the situation slaps me across the face with a resounding whack!
Cholula won’t be able to walk for some time.
We can’t do the show.
And with no way of winning the money, everything is lost.