AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I met Owen this weekend, and Jones. And there’s Mookie, so Yoda will have some friends.”
“Trey Doyle’s dog.” Lucy nodded as she passed out treats. “Would you like some coffee?”
“If you’re having some.”
“Let’s have some coffee, deal with this paperwork. Then you can take your boy home.”
Since Lucy loaded her up, Sonya skipped the shopping. Anything she needed she could pick up when she got the dinner party supplies.
On the drive, Yoda jumped into the back seat, planted his front paws on the window, and watched the world go by.
“I need to warn you, odd things happen at the manor. But we’ll look out for each other. And look, just look at it. Is that the coolest house ever? I’m going to put your leash back on. We’ll walk around. Lucy said it’s smart to find a place for you to do what you need to do, then you’ll mostly go there to do it.”
She snapped the leash on, cuddled him again.
“Let’s walk around our domain. I think around back’s the best place for doing what you need to do.”
She got out with him, and though she’d worried he’d pull on the leash, try to run, he just trotted along beside her.
“How could those people let you go? You’re such a good boy.”
He sniffed—a lot—trotted, then, to her delight, did what he had to do.
After rounding back to the car, she got the adoption basket. Made the second trip out for his bed before unleashing him.
The iPad played “Every Dog Will Have His Day.”
He wandered and sniffed, but stayed close while she hung up her coat. Then followed her when she took the basket into the kitchen.
“Let’s take your bed upstairs so you know where you sleep.”
For the next hour she showed Yoda around, took pictures to textto her mother, Cleo, sent one to Lucy, and, after some mental back-and-forth, to Trey.
For that one she added the comment:
Presenting Mookie’s new pal, Yoda. It’s your fault. Thank you.
“Okay, there’s a lot more house, but you don’t have to see it all at once. We’ve hit the main places I live—for now. And I really need to squeeze another hour in on this project.”
She cupped his face, kissed his nose.
“So you could maybe take a nap by the fire.”
For the first nap, in any case, he preferred under her desk. But she got her hour in, even with pauses to answer Yoda texts.
Since the dog seemed content, she put another hour in before shutting down to make them both dinner.
After a successful post-dinner walk, they settled down by the library fire. Yoda curled beside her while she read another section of Poole family history.
“In 1864, Hugh Poole’s wife of nine months, Marianne, died in childbirth delivering twins. Owen and Jane. He remarried—Carlotta—in 1866, had three more kids. One son died in infancy. And how awful is that?”
She closed the book. “That makes Marianne the third bride, if we’re counting.”
After taking the dog out for one last round, she settled in for the night. Yoda appeared to find his bed by the fire more than acceptable.
She didn’t wake at three when the clock sounded, or stir at the drifting music. But the dog’s ears pricked up. He wandered out, wandered down.
And tail wagging, walked through the candlelight to the piano to sit.
