3. Chapter Three
Friday has been my favorite day of the week since my besties and I began our sleepover tradition in sixth grade. Now that we live together, it’s like a girls' night every night, but I still look forward to our weekly ritual. Especially now that I’m juggling four jobs, I’m exhausted by the end of the week, and that time with them is the light at the end of the tunnel.
I didn’t realize how draining it would be to balance my time between so many places and still try to be a good friend. But I should only have to keep working all these jobs for another year before I have enough saved to open a dog rescue. It’s scary to think those words in my head, let alone imagine saying them out loud to anyone.
Dogs have always been my favorite animal, and I’ve dreamed of helping them find their fur-ever home for as long as I can remember. Hopefully, by this time next year, I’ll be able to make that dream a reality. Between all the money I’ve saved from my jobs in high school, college, and over the last two years, plus the money I inherited from my grandparents’ passing last year, I think it’s going to become a reality.
I gently tug on the leashes. “Let’s get you cuties home.” I walk Winston, Brutus, and Lilo three days a week for families who want their dogs to stay active but don’t have the time or capacity to do it themselves.
After dropping Brutus and Lilo off at their homes, I walk a few streets down to where Winston lives. I knock on the light blue front door and his owner, Pamela, answers.
“Kelsey, do you have a minute to talk?” Her brow furrows, and my stomach drops. I can’t think of anything I might’ve done to upset her.
“Of course.” I pass Winston’s leash over and step into her home. It’s impossible not to notice the brown packing boxes littered throughout the entire first floor. “You’re moving?”
She nods. “It’s time for us to downsize, and we found the perfect retirement community in Florida.”
“That’s exciting.” I try to sound encouraging even though I’ll miss Winston. I mean, he’s the cutest golden retriever ever. How could I not adore him?
“We’re looking forward to it.” Pamela’s eyes dart to the floor, and I know there’s a but coming. “The only downside is that the community only allows dogs under twenty pounds.”
I reach out and offer her hand a reassuring squeeze. “I’m so sorry. You must be devastated.”
Pamela pulls a tissue from her pocket and dabs it under her eyes. “We are.”
“What are your plans for Winston? I’m happy to help you find a good family.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” She looks at her dog with so much love it makes me tear up. “Winston loves his walks with you. He’s always waiting by the door like clockwork for you to pick him up. I don’t know your living situation, but we wanted to see if you might be interested in adopting him before we try to rehome him.” She sniffles.
I hold a hand to my chest. “I’m honored you would think of me. My lease allows one pet, but is it okay if I step outside and check with my roommates?”
“Of course. Whatever you need, dear.”
She opens the back door for me, and I walk into their screened-in porch. After pulling my phone out of my pocket, I sit on the outdoor sofa and open the “Long Live Girlies” group text thread.
ME
What do y’all think about another roommate?
I attach a picture I took earlier this week of Winston smiling up at the camera and hit send. All their responses come in rapid succession.
SHAYNA
Is that Winston?
ME
Yes!
SHAYNA
He’s the biggest sweetie pie ever. Yes, please!
MALLORY
Agreed. If I’m going to like any animal, it’s him.
ALYSSA
I love that floofball! I’m down.
My shoulders fall in relief that they’re all in agreement. I’ve dreamed of owning a dog for so long that it’s impossible to keep the bounce out of my step as I walk back inside. Winston runs over, his golden ears flopping in the breeze. I kneel and scratch his neck. “It looks like you’re coming home with me, buddy.”
Pamela comes out of the kitchen carrying a to-go cup, which she extends my way. “I know how much you love coffee.”
“That’s so sweet. Thank you.” I pat Winston’s head, stand, and accept the cup. “I heard back from my roommates, and they’re happy to welcome Winston into our home.”
Her mouth falls open, and she pulls me in for a hug. “Oh, thank you. I’m devastated he can’t come with us, but I know you’re going to take the best care of him.”
I hug her tight. “I’ll send you pictures and videos anytime you want.”
Pamela pulls back and shakes her finger between us. “See, my gut always told me you were a good one, and it’s never wrong.”
“I’ve always loved Winston.” I know you’re not supposed to pick favorites, but he’s always been mine.
“I’ll let you go. Let me give you all the dog supplies.” Pamela grabs a large reusable tote bag, filled to the brim, and starts dragging it over to me.
I hurry over and pick it up. It’s heavier than expected. Inside, I spot a few gallon-sized baggies of dog food, dog bowls, a harness, a few toys, shampoo, and a brush. “This is great, thanks.”
She clicks the leash back onto Winston’s collar.
My eyes go wide. “You want me to take him right now?”
“Is that okay?” Pamela worries her bottom lip. “The movers are coming Monday.”
I’m not sure my friends expected me to bring him home with me today , but it will make for a fun girls' night. I slip the tote onto my shoulder and accept the leash. “Yeah, of course.” I walk out front, Winston following at my heels. “You have my number. Seriously, text me anytime you want a picture of him.”
“I will.” She leans down, hugs the dog, and kisses him on his head. When Pamela stands straight, her eyes glisten with unshed tears. “You better go before I become a blubbering mess.”
I shoot her a sad smile before walking down her driveway. Once we hit the sidewalk, I wave goodbye. Then, with Winston by my side, I head home.
“You’re such a good boy. Yes, you are,” Shayna coos as she scrunches up Winston’s neck floof. If you look up the word “joy” in the dictionary, you’ll find Shay’s picture beside it. She’s the epitome of sunshine—the eternal optimist. The friend you want on your side to pick you up when you’re down.
“He doesn’t understand English, Shay,” Mallory deadpans.
“Do I need to say it in French, then? Spanish? Maybe Dutch?”
Mal throws a pillow at her.
“Even if he doesn’t understand, he knows he’s getting praise.” Shayna turns back to Winston, her dark-brown hair swinging with the movement. She rubs his ears and turns her baby voice back on. “Isn’t that right? You’re the smartest boy in the whole wide world.”
Alyssa walks in, carrying an armful of snacks. My mouth waters the second I spot the familiar packaging of Kizito cookies. They’re a staple sweet treat in Louisville.
The pronunciation of our dear city is a controversial topic, even for locals. I pronounce it Looavul—like I have a mouthful of marshmallows. Some people might argue it’s Looeyville, but heaven forbid someone pronounces it Lewisville. That’s sacrilegious here. Regardless, it’s the city that has our history and our hearts…and the most delicious cookies.
I grab a snickerdoodle. “What are we celebrating?” We only ever buy Kizito cookies for special occasions.
“Our new roommate, of course.” Alyssa raises her cookie in the air.
I open the package and clink the cookie with my friends. “To Winston.”
“To Winston,” they echo back.
We laugh as he runs between us, tail wagging from hearing everyone cheer his name.
When our cookies are gone, we heat apple cider in the kitchen. The second we’re all in our usual seats, mugs in hand, Alyssa starts talking. “Okay, happies and crappies for the week. You go first, Mal.”
I set my mug on the coffee table and shake a bottle of burgundy nail polish. After twisting it open, I brush it on my nails as I listen.
“My crappy this week was parent-teacher conferences. They went until eight on Tuesday and are always draining.” Mallory pulls her curly, light brown hair up into a messy bun. I think she calls it the pineapple method, but I have no clue what that means. “My happy is that our two-day fall break is getting closer by the minute.”
“You’re almost there, girlfriend.” I toast my nail polish bottle toward her in solidarity.
Mal smiles. “What about you, Shay?”
Shayna sits on her hands as she bounces excitedly on the couch. “My boss at the flower shop told me she’s planning on retiring soon.” She’s been working at Shirley’s Florist for the past six years, saving up to open her own flower truck.
“I’m guessing that’s good news?” I ask, unsure what Shirley’s retirement might mean for her.
She nods, readjusting her knotted pearl headband. “Shirley doesn’t have any kids, so she said she wants to leave the flower shop to me. It has a greenhouse and garden out back where I could grow enough flowers to keep running the shop and sell them from a mobile flower truck too.”
I pull her in for a side hug. “We definitely needed Kizito cookies tonight, then. Congrats, Shay!”
Everyone else offers their congratulations before she turns back to me. “I don’t have any crappies. Your turn, Kels.”
I take a sip of my cider, savoring the notes of warm spices. “My happy is obviously that I’m now a dog mama.” I lean down and ruffle Winston’s fur. “My crappy is that I woke up to Tyler blaring hip-hop music multiple days this week before sunrise.”
“Again?” Shayna leans over and squeezes my forearm. “I thought you started sleeping through it?”
“I do on occasion, but I think he switched up his playlist or something.”
“Ugh, I’m sorry, girl.” Alyssa gives me a sympathetic look. “I still can’t believe none of us can hear it.”
I shrug. “It must be because his workout room is right across from my window. I’m honestly glad none of you can hear it. At least some of us can get the beauty sleep we deserve.”
“Do you want me to egg his house?” Mallory looks determined, like she’s ready to go to battle for me. She’s the kind of friend that would defend you to the grave, and we love her for it.
I laugh. “That’s okay, but thank you.” Dropping my gaze to my lap, I say, “I actually have another crappy this week. My mother texted me.”
“No.” Mallory looks like she could seriously injure my mother with her eye daggers.
“What did she want?” Alyssa pouts.
“She let me know she was moving in with her new boyfriend.”
Mallory scoffs. “What number is this? Seventeen?”
I blow out a breath. “I’ve honestly lost count.”
Shayna scoots closer to me, squeezing my arm. “Did she ask you for anything this time?”
I shake my head. “I guess the upside to her moving in with boyfriends is that she stops asking me for rent money.”
“I’m sorry, Kels.” Alyssa shoots me a sympathetic look.
“It’s fine.” I take another sip of my apple cider, trying to stave off the emotions that always rise to the surface when talking about my parents.
Let’s just say that not many of my memories surrounding them are positive. After they divorced, they used me to keep tabs on the other. Then, when I became a legal adult, I fell out of touch with my father. The few times a year that I hear from my mother, she asks me for money or cries about her most recent breakup, reminding me that love never lasts.
I clear my throat and force a smile—this evening with my friends is supposed to be fun. “What are your happies and crappies, Lyss?”
She eyes me like she knows it’s certainly not fine, but concedes to my wish to change the conversation. “My crappy is that I have to miss Austin’s first playoff game tomorrow because I’m covering for someone on maternity leave at the salon.”
Mallory, Shayna, and I share a knowing look. All of us think Alyssa’s in love with her best guy friend, Austin Bradford. Yes, that Austin Bradford—the star shortstop for the Louisville Mustangs. Even though Alyssa swears she and Austin are only friends, she has yet to convince us that’s true.
“And my happy is that I gave the best balayage of my life this week to one of the MLB players’ girlfriends. Now she’s referring all the other WAGs my way.”
“WAGs?” Mallory raises an eyebrow.
“Wives and girlfriends of professional athletes.”
“Oh, so you’re going to be a WAG soon.” Shayna smiles conspiratorially.
Alyssa rolls her eyes. “Like I’ve told y’all a million times, Austin and I are just friends.”
“I don’t believe you’re just anything, but whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep at night.” Mallory tilts her head, leaving no room for arguments.
Trying to bring the conversation back around, I smile at Alyssa. “Having all of them book with you has to be great for business.”
“Yeah, my schedule is filling up fast.”
“That’s awesome, Lyss,” Shayna says as I make another careful swipe of nail polish on my thumb.
“What movie—” Someone knocking on the front door cuts off my question.
“I’ll get it.” Shayna pops up from the couch and rounds the corner to our foyer. Winston chases after her.
I only hear the mumblings of conversation before Shayna reappears in the living room with Tyler behind her. When he spots all of us on the couch, he rubs the back of his neck, making the muscles in his arm ripple. I try not to stare, but I can’t help it. Even if I can’t stand the man, I can still appreciate good muscles. I mean, if he’s waking me up at four-thirty every morning, he’d better have good muscles to show for it.
But his biceps don’t tell me why he’s standing in my living room right now, looking like he wishes he could run right back out the door and never return.
He points toward our front door. “I’m sorry, I should go. It looks like I’m interrupting.”
“It’s just girls' night,” Alyssa says, always the one to ease the tension in any room.
“We have it every week,” Shayna adds with a smile.
Mallory gives Tyler a once-over as he takes a step back. “You already came over and interrupted, so you may as well just say whatever you came over for.”
There’s the blunt bestie I know and love. If there’s ever anyone I go to when I want them to tell it to me straight, Mal’s my girl.
I can’t help but admit that I’m curious why he came over, too. Even Winston is standing on guard behind our guest, assessing him.
Tyler has never knocked on our door in the two years we’ve been his next-door neighbors, so I can only imagine what’s making him come to us now. Maybe he’s baking and needs an egg or a cup of sugar. Maybe he has taken a second job as a pest control salesman and wants to sell us his service. Or, if I’m lucky, maybe he has finally learned the errors of his ways and is coming to apologize for all the early-morning workouts and promise to delete his hip-hop playlist forever.
After a longing glance toward our foyer, Tyler turns back to us with a sigh. “I know I haven’t been the best neighbor, and I’m sorry for that, but I’m in a bit of a situation and was wondering if one of you might be able to help me out.”
Mallory sits up taller, angling all her sass at him. “You’re here asking for our help, but do you even know our names?”
“Alyssa, Mallory, Shayna, and Kelsey.” Her eyebrows raise, and he laughs awkwardly, motioning to me. “Kelsey told me all your names when she dropped off my mail after y’all moved in. Although, I’m not entirely sure who’s who.”
Shayna smiles warmly beside him and shakes his hand. “I’m Shayna Monroe. Happy to finally make your acquaintance, Tyler.”
“Alyssa Cartwright.” She runs her fingers through her blonde waves. “Nice to finally meet you.”
He offers them both a closed-lip smile in return before turning to Mal.
“Mallory Porter.” She gives him an appraising look. “I don’t like you.”
“Noted.” His jaw ticks like he’s trying not to set her off with any kind of physical reaction.
When he turns to me expectantly, I shoot him an exasperated look. “You already know my name.”
“Only Kelsey. You know my first and last name, so it’s only fair I know yours.”
I stare him down, unwilling to blink first. When his eyelids close for the briefest second, I smile in satisfaction, knowing that I won even if he didn’t know what game we were playing.
Shayna looks back and forth between us, obviously uncomfortable and wanting to play peacemaker. “Tyler Reed, meet Kelsey Anderson.”
“Anderson,” he murmurs, like he’s test-driving a car.
I don’t like the sound of my last name coming out of his mouth one bit.
“All right, now that you know our names, what kind of situation are we talking about?” Mallory jumps right in, asking the question we all want the answer to—well, at least I do.
He runs his hand along his neck. “It turns out I need a nanny for a few months for my five-year-old niece. I called every babysitting service I could find earlier today, and they all laughed me off the phone or just hung up on me when I told them I needed someone to start Monday. Who knew nannies were booked up so far in advance?”
Tyler lets out a breathy laugh. “So, that’s why I’m here. I know you all work, but I wanted to see if any of you have room in your schedule to pick up my niece from school and watch her until I get home from work. I know we’re just neighbors, but you’re the only people I know in this city aside from my sister and coworkers.”
“I wish I could help.” Alyssa frowns, obviously feeling bad for the predicament he’s in. “I’m a hairdresser, and my schedule stays pretty booked, so I wouldn’t be available every day.”
“Me neither,” Mallory says. “I’m a teacher, but I help with tutoring after school a few days a week.”
Shayna sighs. “I work full-time at a flower shop, so I can’t help either.”
Everyone turns to me, and I can tell my friends are reining back smiles at the irony that Tyler Reed needs help, and I’m the only one who can give it.
“I already work four jobs,” I say.
Alyssa shoots me a look and then whispers in my ear, “They’re flexible, though.”
Do I work four jobs? Yes.
But could I rearrange my schedule to help Tyler? Also yes.
“Plus, she was a nanny and dog sitter throughout college,” Shayna adds. “So, she’d be perfect for the position.”
Tyler’s eyes narrow slightly like he’s trying to get a read on me. “You work four jobs?”
“Yeah, but depending upon how much pay we’re talking about here, I might be able to quit one or two of them.”
“Kels.” Alyssa nudges my arm.
“What? He always leaves the house in scrubs; we all know he’s a doctor.”
Mallory snorts.
Tyler covers his mouth to stifle the sound of surprised laughter, but I hear it, and I feel oddly satisfied that I was the reason for it. He rubs a hand across his jawline, drawing my gaze to the shadow of stubble covering it. I swallow hard and stare him down.
Shayna steps between us, offering a calming presence and a kind smile. “How about you two meet up in the morning? You can sleep on it and come together with fresh eyes and discuss what the job would entail.”
Tyler nods and turns to me. “Wanna come by around eight? We can talk numbers and details then, but I’d make it worth your while. I know I’m asking a lot here, especially at the last minute.”
“Works for me,” I say.
“I’ll see you then, Kelsey Anderson.”
I narrow my gaze. “Not if I see you first, Tyler Reed.”
Shayna walks him back to the front door, and Alyssa fans herself with a throw pillow. “Girl, I think we need to call the fire department from the sparks flying between you two.”
“Oh, stop.” I shake my head.
“No, seriously, you could cut the romantic tension with a knife.”
I look at Mallory, wanting her to agree with me about how ridiculous Alyssa’s comments are. She shrugs. “As much as I don’t like him for how he wakes you up all the time, Lyss isn’t wrong.”
“There has never been and never will be anything between me and Tyler freaking Reed except loathing.”
They look at each other with playful grins.
“I give it two months.” Alyssa pulls up a streaming platform on the television and scrolls through the romantic comedy section.
“I give it three.”
“You’re on.” Mallory and Alyssa shake hands as I watch in abject horror that they’re betting that I’ll fall for our jerk of a neighbor.
“What are we betting about?” Shayna eyes them as she takes a seat on the couch.
“How long it’ll take for Tyler and Kelsey to fall in love,” Mallory says matter-of-factly.
I grab a piece of popcorn from the bowl and throw it at her.
“Oooh,” she squeals. “I give it a month.”
I grab another popcorn kernel and throw it at her. “Do you all have such little faith in me?”
“It’s just the law of attraction, Kels.” Alyssa grabs the piece of popcorn that landed on Mallory’s hot-pink sweatshirt and tosses it in her mouth.
Okay, sure, objectively , Tyler is handsome. Being a pediatrician might move him up a notch on the hotness scale too. But I’m not focused on romance when all my time and energy is going into saving to open my dog rescue. Even if I wasn’t, I’d never date the man who has been a nuisance for the past two years.
“Let’s up the ante a little bit, then.” I lean in closer. “If any of you are correct, I’ll buy a nice espresso maker and make you good coffee every day for a month straight. But if I don’t fall in love with him—which I won’t—y’all have to make me dinner for a month.”
They smile at each other and rise from the couch. All four of us come together and cross our arms, making hand hearts with each other in a little circle. It’s been our version of a pinky promise since middle school.
“You’d better start saving your pennies now, Kels,” Mallory says as she falls back onto the couch.
As Alyssa puts on one of our favorite romcoms where the enemies become lovers, I smile because I know that will never be how my story ends with Tyler. I don’t have to worry about spending the money on a fancy espresso machine because I know there’s no way I could possibly lose this bet.
Right?