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I reluctantly set the box down where Theo had left it. “Okay. If you really want to keep the dogs, that’s fine. But let me know what I can do to help.”
“We’ll be just fine, won’t we, guys?” she says.
Lucia gets up and sits next to her, thumping her tail. But when I walk to the door, Lucia moves with me, and I lean down and love on her a little bit.
“Sit,” I tell her.
She doesn’t until I say it about four more times and then I hustle out of there, closing the door behind me so she doesn’t follow.
The rest of the day is spent finishing up the meetings with the staff and a few Zoom calls with clients from home. My focus is torn between work and checking on Scarlett and the dogs. But she was right about one thing—there’s too much to do—and I figure it’s best to give Scarlett some space.
Maybe she’ll realize she needs my help more than she thinks.
* * *
She doesn’t need my help.
When I leave for the day, I knock on her door, but there’s no answer, and all is quiet throughout the rest of the night. I finally unpack the boxes of clothes I’d shipped ahead.
After touching base with the family, I call it a night, checking my phone like I expect Scarlett to reach out. I’ve given her my number in our work emails back and forth, but she hasn’t given me hers. I need to remedy that tomorrow.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I pull up her email and send a quick one with Bonnie & Clyde in the subject line.
How are my furry friends and their temporary/possibly new owner?
~Jamison
I refresh a dozen times before an email comes through and there’s a picture of a floral comforter with Scarlett’s long legs on top. Lucia’s head is resting on Scarlett’s knee, and Delgado is on Scarlett’s stomach and his eyes look bigger than normal at this angle.
Her response simply says:
Peachy.
I laugh and look at that picture far longer than I should. Scarlett’s toenails are painted pink, and there’s what appears to be a scar on her left knee. Fuck me. Is this what happens when you move out of the constantly moving pace of city life? I’ve been fairly busy since I’ve been here, but still nothing like home.
Something tells me even if we switched locations and Scarlett and I were in Boston, I’d still be zooming in on the details of this picture for a closer view of her.
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
A UNITED FRONT
SCARLETT
I manage to have minimal contact with Jamison until Friday night.
He’s tried—still showing up at Happy Cow in the mornings to help and sending an email every night to check on Delgado and Lucia. I’ve been busy working and taking care of the dogs.
Any guilt I have about his apparent desire to be a pet owner is dulled by the need to keep as much distance between us as possible.
I’ve been nervous to leave the dogs in my condo alone. So far they haven’t gotten into mischief while I sleep and they’re good at the office, but I don’t know if it’ll be different when I’m not around. I’ve heard horror stories about huskies, in particular, the downfall of googling everything I can to learn more about the two breeds. Lucia’s leveled up my exercise in a short amount of time. We go on a lot of walks so I can wear her out, and I usually end up carrying Delgado the last half. I took an extra-long walk this morning and wish I could again now to be sure she doesn’t have too much energy. She looks innocent now, but…those videos of mass destruction at the paws of a husky have me concerned. I leave a large and small rubber toy filled with peanut butter for them when I leave and hurry to the banquet hall later than I’d planned.
And the surprise is on me.
When I left at four to potty the dogs, take a quick shower, and change into my favorite red dress, the new arrangements from Feather Whims were in place, and the caterers from The Pink Ski were already setting up food. But when I arrive right at five, the banquet hall is already full and buzzing with people, and there’s a live band playing in the corner. A band I didn’t arrange to be here tonight. I think every business owner is here and then some, judging from the attendees. I’ve never considered elementary school teachers business owners per se, but hey, maybe there’s something I’m missing since all the single females from Landmark Elementary are here and looking great.
I recognize the piano player from The Gnarly Vine, but I’ve never seen the soulful flutist playing with him. How did Jamison pull that off in such a short amount of time and without me knowing it?
Unease rumbles through my body and I take a glass of champagne from one of The Pink Ski’s catering staff.
