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“Are you a maid?” She rests a hand atop the baby’s head, drawing my attention to the little one on her hip. The little toddler sports a pearly grin and a face sticky from the sucker clenched in his chubby fist. His brown eyes alight at my attention, and he reaches his other hand in my direction. His cuteness strikes me with a profound ache.
“I prefer housekeeper. I’m new here.”
“I could always use an extra hand if you’re looking for clients.”
Adrenaline spikes at her offer. “Absolutely. I’m available for a trial clean any day this week.”
Her smile isn’t unkind, but her upper lip curls into a slight sneer. “Perfect. How’s tomorrow? Between work and this little guy, my house is just too big to keep up with in my free time.”
I keep up with the polite curl of my lips while she flaunts her status. “I can give you my number, and you can text me your address.”
We exchange information, and I carry my supplies back to my car with an extra bounce in my step.
I toss Ghost her new plush as soon as I enter the car, and she sinks her teeth right into it. For a big pit bull, she’s surprisingly a gentle chewer. The new toy should last her a while. We zip back across town, and I pull into what I’ve decided is my spot at the truck stop.
I crack the windows and fire up a social media app on my phone. I search for Arrow Creek and come across a community group. Bingo.
First, I tap out a generic post regarding my cleaning services. Then I create one for a pet-sitter. The nerves are heavier with the second. More than likely because if I can’t find someone to watch my dog, the first post will be moot.
Hi, everyone. I’m looking for a last-minute dog sitter for a few hours tomorrow. Any recommendations on openings? She’s a three-year-old pit bull and super sweet.
“Stay pretty, Ghost.” The deaf dog doesn’t shift as I snap a cute picture of her lounging on my passenger seat. Her paws are crossed, and her head rests on top of them. I add the picture to my post.
A few replies trickle in as I wait.
There’s a kennel on main street. I believe it’s $50/day.
OMG a pit bull?? Dangerous. No, thank you.
Nerves surface when I think about leaving my baby with a stranger. How am I going to find the perfect fit in less than twenty-four hours? A kennel would be a last resort. I set my phone aside and stroke Ghost’s short fur.
The crunch of gravel alerts me to an approaching car. I swivel to watch it drive in, and my heart stutters at the sight of the familiar Jeep.
Crap! It can’t be.
I sink lower as if that’ll somehow disguise me from the driver. Typical Millennial. We avoid opening knocked doors, answering unknown numbers, and apparently try to hide in plain sight from hot men.
Rather than creep and indulge my curiosity, I pick my phone back up to check the replies. Just below the bitch who stereotyped all pit bulls, I see a reply that sounds promising.
Cami Briggs
My fifteen-year-old daughter is off school tomorrow and would love to hang with your sweet girl. I’ll message you.
My inbox already indicates a new message.
Cami: Hi. What time do you need someone to watch your dog? I can drop my daughter off.
I reply immediately.
Me: Thanks for the message. I’m actually looking for somewhere I can leave my dog for a few hours. I’m new here and haven’t set up my house yet.
Not technically a lie. If I ignore that I’m living out of my car for the foreseeable future.
Her reply is almost instant.
Cami: Not a problem. That’s even better. Come a little early so we can chat beforehand. Here’s my address.
I type the location into my GPS app. She’s right in town.
