Chapter 7
“She’s adorable!” Clara squeals. “She looks so fluffy and soft! Is she soft?”
I actually don’t know, because I’ve only fed her candy. Now she’s lying on the couch with her eyes closed, probably regretting letting herself get bribed by me.
I could tell immediately, though, that she knew where she was when we got back to the house—that this is her home.
She jumped out of the car and strutted up to the house, without even looking at me.
And as soon as I unlocked the front door, she went straight for the couch and hasn’t moved ever since.
Something tells me that’s her usual spot.
“Yeah, super soft but—”
“You haven’t touched her yet, have you?” I don’t answer, and that’s answer enough for Clara. “Juju!” she cries.
“I will touch her! I . . . what do I do with her?”
“Talk to her? Walk with her? Pet her fluffy, amazing fur?”
I stare at Cactus and wonder, again—what the hell happened with my life?
A house?
A dog?
Where’s the Volvo, one could wonder . . .
Clara’s next words snap me back to reality. “She probably misses Liz.”
I frown. “Dogs have feelings?”
“Of course they do! Haven’t you seen Hachi: A Dog’s Tale?”
“No?”
“Oh my god, you must! It’s amazing! But prepare yourself with tissues, a lot of tissues, because you’ll need them. I cried for days when I saw it.”
We hang up, but not until Clara has forced me to put her on the speaker, hold my phone in front of Cactus’s face, and listened to her tell Cactus what an incredibly cute dog she is and how Clara is the proudest aunt in the world (like, ?!?!)
There’s no lasagna made that night. And no wine and no bath. I’m too shocked. Instead, I sit on the other end of the couch in the half-dark room, glancing at my new roommate and trying to wrap my head around how I ended up here. With a big dog in a small town called Pearlband Beach.