“I am so, so sorry,” Cara said. “I just realized my mistake.”
“Yeah, ten minutes too late,” Zoey said. “Okay, I’m turning around right now. I can’t take much more of this.”
Cara hung up and turned to Jack with a triumphant smile. “She’s coming back.”
“Thank God,” he breathed. “But Zoey’s not going to give up this easily. Once she hands over Poppy, she’s gonna insist on taking Shaz with her, if only because she wants her revenge against me.”
“I’ve got another idea,” Cara said. “Do you trust me?”
Jack looked down at Shaz, who was curled up at his feet. Despite all the excitement, she was asleep, softly snoring. “Do I have a choice?”
***
Exactly twenty-seven minutes later, the VW zoomed up to the curb in front of Bloom. The motor was still running as Zoey jumped out, ran around, and opened the passenger door. “Out!” she screamed. Poppy’s head hung limply over the edge of the seat. “Get out, dammit!” Zoey repeated.
Cara stepped up and gathered the reeking puppy into her arms. “Poor baby,” she crooned. “My poor baby.”
“Yourpoor baby,” Zoey exploded. “Look at me! Look at my car! I can’t go anywhere like this. I’ve gotta get out of these clothes, shower, get my car cleaned up. I was gagging the whole way back here. I mean, what the fuck?”
“I’m sorry,” Cara said, setting Poppy carefully down on the sidewalk. “But I’m surprised you haven’t encountered this with Shaz when you go on car trips. The vet says it’s something to do with the breed.”
“I’ve never taken Shaz on a car trip before,” Zoey replied. “What are you talking about?”
“Carsickness,” Cara said. “The vet says it’s hereditary with goldendoodles.”
“The breeder never mentioned it to me,” Zoey said. “And come to think of it, when I brought Shaz back from Atlanta, that was a four-hour car ride, and she was fine. She slept the whole way home.”
“Exactly,” Cara said. “My vet says it’s something the breeders downplay. Like hip dysplasia in Great Danes. When they’re really young, it doesn’t affect them so much. But once they’re seven or eight months old… bleaaahhhh.” Cara pantomimed an Oscar-worthy rendition of canine carsickness. “Poppy’s fine for a short ride, like to the vet or the grocery store, but if she’s in the car for more than fifteen minutes… bleaahhh.”
Zoey shuddered, then tapped her foot impatiently. “Jack never said anything about Shaz getting carsick.”
“Like you said, he’s totally selfish,” Cara pointed out. “He was probably hoping you’d take Shaz with you so he doesn’t have to deal with her himself.” She gestured toward the shop door. “If you want to come inside and get cleaned up, I’ll take Poppy out to the garden and hose her off, and then you can get Shaz. I’ve probably got some old towels you can take with you for the rest of the trip. Just in case, you know… bleahhh.”
Zoey crossed and uncrossed her arms. It took less than thirty seconds to make up her mind.
“Yeah. Thanks but no thanks. I think I’m just gonna let Shaz be Jack’s problem from now on.”
“You sure?” Cara asked helpfully. “I’ve got plenty of towels.”
“Positive,” Zoey said. “I gotta get to a car wash before this mess soaks into my upholstery.” She looked over at Poppy, and then at Cara. “Gross.”
Cara stood perfectly still while Zoey slammed the VW into first gear and pulled away from the curb.
She held up her right hand and gave a soft finger wave. “Buh-byeeee.”
66
The bells at St. John’s were just tolling six. Cara led Poppy through the lane and into the courtyard garden. She fetched the galvanized tub and the bottle of dog shampoo from the toolshed, and filled it with water from the hose. Then she held a dog treat beneath Poppy’s nose, and gently coaxed the puppy into the tub. Cara squeezed shampoo into her hand and worked it into the dog’s fur, training the nozzle over Poppy’s fur.
“Zoey’s gone,” she told Jack, who still held a tight hand on the pink collar around Shaz’s neck. “And the coast is clear.”
“I was inside, crouched down, watching through the front window,” Jack said. “I figured, if Zoey tried to argue with you, I’d come out and try to buy her off. What did you say to get her to leave Shaz behind?”
Hearing her name mentioned, Shaz stood, her ears pricked up. Jack released his hold on her collar and she edged over to watch the proceedings.
“Does she like a bath as much as Poppy does?” Cara asked, looking over at Jack.
He looked chagrined. “Uh, I guess. I mean, when I take her to the groomers, she’s okay with it.”
