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Much later, around ten a.m., we’re making ourselves coffee and toast in the kitchen when the doorbell rings.
Sidnie looks up. “Oh, is that Jamie?” He’s the only person who ever rings our doorbell.
“Probably.” I wipe my hands. “I’ll get it.”
My pulse picks up speed as I walk through the apartment and open the door.
He’s standing there, grinning, holding a large cardboard box.
“Ready?” he says.
“Did Elizabeth do it?”
“Yep. Exactly how you wanted.”
I inhale deeply and blow out the breath, then take the box from him. “Thanks.”
“I’ll leave everything else out here,” he says, gesturing at the other items he’s put on the floor.
“Okay. Thanks for doing this, Jamie. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. Best of luck.” He waves and goes back into the elevator.
My mouth has suddenly gone dry. Carefully, I bring the box into the apartment and close the door.
“Was it Jamie?” Sidnie calls.
“Yeah. Can you come in here?” I go into the living room and gently place the box on the floor.
She walks in, seeing the box as Gus runs up to it, tail wagging. “Oh! What’s that?”
“Your Valentine’s Day present.” I gesture at it, my heart pounding.
She stares at me, taken aback. “Another one?”
“The real one. The other one was a stopgap.”
Frowning, she comes forward and drops to her knees on the floor, while I perch on the arm of the chair. Gus is very excited by this point, and I chuckle and pull him away. “Careful,” I tell her. “It’s very delicate.”
The box is made of firm cardboard and has holes cut in the sides. As she goes to open the top, it moves, just a little.
“Oh!” She jumps back and laughs, and then her eyes light up. Suddenly excited, she opens the flaps and reveals a tiny bundle of curly ginger fur with two big brown eyes.
“Oh my God!” She claps a hand over her mouth and looks up at me, then back at the puppy.
“It’s one of Elizabeth’s Spoodles,” I explain. “He’s Gus’s baby.”
She keeps her hand there, and her eyes glass over. “He’s beautiful!” she squeaks. “Is… is he mine?”
I smile. “Yes, he’s yours. You can call him whatever you want—he doesn’t have a name yet.”
She sniffs. “How old is he?”
“Nine weeks. I’ve got all the stuff for him—collar and bed and that kind of thing. Jamie’s left it outside.”
“Oh, Mack.” She finally lowers her hand and picks the puppy up out of the box. “He’s so beautiful.”
