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Carly shook her head, but she was smiling now. Properly, if briefly.
They bought coffee anyway. Or rather, Lauren bought one for herself and a bag of dog treats from the jar by the till, because Reggie was staring at it. Carly said Berkeley wasn’t allowed too many treats. Lauren said one didn’t count. Carly said that was how society collapsed.
The barista, who clearly recognised Lauren from football or the gym or simply the general ecosystem of local lesbians with dogs, asked if the relaunch was still on. Lauren went straight into the pitch. Free trial day. Club discount. Massage tasters. No pressure. Come and have a look, ask questions, leave if it’s not for you. By the end, the barista had promised to tell her sister.
They wandered off with both dogs on the alert for more treats, and Lauren pretending her face hadn’t gone warm.
“That was useful,” Carly said.
“What was?”
“You. Talking to her.”
“I talk to everyone.”
“I know.”
It didn’t sound like a criticism, and Lauren decided not to poke it. Not when they were almost getting on.
The apology sat behind them on the path. It wasn’t solved, or exactly accepted, but it was no longer stuck in Lauren’s throat. Carly had it now, and what she did with it was up to her. Paige had been right about that. Annoying, but right.
At the cars, Berkeley leaned briefly against Lauren’s thigh, and she scratched behind his ear.
“He’s lovely.”
“I know.”
“If you ever need help with him…”
Carly’s shoulders changed.
Lauren caught it and stopped before she could pitch. “If you ever need help,” she said, more carefully, “you can ask. That’s all.”
“Okay.”
Reggie hauled himself into the back of the Volvo with the weary drama of a dog who had walked at least part of a mile. Berkeley put one paw on Carly’s back seat and waited for permission before climbing in.
“Very well trained,” Lauren said.
“He has standards.”
“Unlike Reggie, who once ate a whole sock and then looked offended when we went to the vet.”
Carly laughed. “Goodbye, Reggie.”
Reggie barked once, accepting the farewell.
Lauren lingered by her door. This was usually where she’d say one thing too many.
She didn’t.
“Thanks for the walk.”
“Thanks for the coffee pitch.”
“Any time.”
“And Lauren?”
