He checked his watch. "It's nine o'clock."
She glanced at her mom again. "I'm supposed to go to bed. Do you think I should sleep here next to Mom? That's what I used to do when she fell asleep in the camper."
Reaves did his best to keep his expression neutral. He hated to think about the two of them alone in that camper, with Alara not well enough to take care of them, and Zia not old enough to understand.
"Do you think you should go up to bed anyway?" he asked.
She shook her head slowly. "No. I want to stay by Mom."
"I should wake her up, then. We can get you both upstairs to bed."
"She might not be able to wake up. She doesn't, sometimes. You know."
Reaves took in a deep breath, hoping that Alara would wake by herself, without Zia worrying or him having to disturb her. He couldn’t let his mind go anywhere near how that must have felt to Zia in the camper.
"I'll tell you what. Do you think it's okay for you to stay up half an hour? It's Friday night, after all."
She gave him a puzzled look, no doubt wondering why that would make any difference. "Okay," she said after a moment. "I can tell you about Homer."
He had to smile. He'd walked himself right into that one. She couldn’t stop talking about Homer when Hannah and Gradydropped her off earlier this evening. She'd had a great time with them, and of course with Ava, but what had stuck with her was the dog she'd met at the shelter.
Reaves had seen him—Grady had texted the photos he'd taken. He was a scruffy little thing, his coat an untidy mix of cream and tan and white, grown shaggy enough to hide what breed he might once have resembled. His fur stuck out around his neck and ears as though he desperately needed a groom, but somehow it suited him. There'd been a bunch of photos, but the one that had gotten to Reaves was of Zia sitting cross-legged on the floor with the dog's head on her lap, fast asleep. Like he'd finally found somewhere he could rest.
"I think it's very mean of them to call him Scruffy," said Zia. "Don't you?"
"I don't think they're being mean. It's just that the people who work at the shelter see so many dogs come through, and most of them don't stay very long before someone chooses them and takes them home and gives them a different name. So, they pick the first thing they think of."
She dropped her chin, and her shoulders drooped. "The lady said Homer's been there a long time now."
He frowned at that. "Do you know why?"
"Because he's sad."
"What makes you think that?"
She looked up at him. "Because he is." She shuffled around to face him properly. "She told me all about him. First, he was a stray, living all by himself, with nobody to even feed him. Someone found him and brought him to the shelter, and a familytook him home. But he didn't like to play, so they brought him back." She shook her head. "That's just mean, if you ask me. Then someone came again, and she was a nice old lady. But then she died, and she had no family, so he came back to the shelter again. And he's been there for a long time now." She looked at her hands. "I think he's sad because his old lady died."
Reaves nodded. "I'm sure he is."
"But, Prince Daddy—all the other dogs jump around and wag their tails and want you to go and say hello to them. And people do. Especially the puppies, because the puppies are cute. The lady said the puppies won't stay there for long, and that's good, because they're babies. But he's been there so long he doesn't expect anyone to choose him anymore." She looked up. "I could tell. When I went in, he looked at me, and I knew. So, I went to sit with him, and he went to sleep."
"I bet that made him happy," said Reaves.
"Yeah. But now he's sad again, because I left him, too."
Reaves was already fighting with himself. He couldn't have a dog. It wouldn't be right, not with his schedule.
But then again, Ollie had two dogs and he worked the same schedule. Peanut and Butter stayed with Rosa and Luigi whenever Ollie was flying. If Reaves had a dog… no. It wouldn't be fair to ask his dad and Faye to take care of it.
He sat up a little straighter when he remembered. He might not be flying for much longer.
He let the thought roll around in his mind for a few moments, and it slowly dawned on him that he really wouldn't mind givingup his job. Like Ollie had said, it wasn't as though they'd never get to fly anymore.
"Are you okay, Prince Daddy?"
He reached out to run his hand over Zia's hair. "Yeah, I'm good. Just thinking."
"What are you thinking?"
