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I called Desi to see if she had any recommendations for groomers in the Seattle area, and she didn’t let me down. As soon as we step inside Groovy Groomin’, I know it is the place to bring my good pup.
“What’s its name?” the receptionist asks.
The waiting room is covered with pictures of grinning animals who look like they have taken a trip on the magical mushroom ride. The walls are painted in bright colors, and the receptionist has rainbow-colored hair and more piercings than I can count in her face.
“Oh, um …” I stare down at the dog, who looks at me, tongue lolling out. “I don’t know. I haven’t named him yet,” I say.
The receptionist comes around the counter and bends down to pet him. “You’ve got a little gentleman on your hands,” she says between copious amounts of tongue lickings from our matted furball.
I look at Simon and raise my eyebrows.
“What?”
“What should we name him?”
“Oh no, this is your dog,” he says, shaking his head.
“Come on. We found him together, so we should name him together,” I say.
Simon shrugs with a sigh. “Do you always get what you want?”
“Not always. Actually, very rarely,” I remark with a frown. “But just look at his little face. He’s waiting on a name.” I scrunch the dog’s scraggly face between my hands and turn him slightly to look up at Simon.
“What about Waffle? Since that’s how you met him?”
I gape at Simon and then look back at the dog. “Do you want to be called Waffle?” I ask him, and he lets out a sharp bark. “It’s settled then. His name is Waffle.”
The receptionist nods and moves back to her desk and starts clicking away on her computer. “Perfect. Have a seat, and we will call Waffle once we are ready for him,” she says.
I nod, standing slowly from where I’m crouched down.
In the span of a month, my life has altered drastically, transforming more than I ever expected, and I don’t think I would change a thing. Now, it’s me and Waffle against the world, and with any luck, maybe Simon and Ivy will be by my side too.
“Okay, the plan is for you to go up to the front desk and distract them while I sneak Waffle onto the elevator,” I say as we stand outside the front doors to The Paramount Hotel.
“Why are you whispering?”
“This is a covert operation, duh. You can’t just talk about it in a normal voice.”
“Alice, no one is around, and we have cameras on us. Everyone is going to see.”
I hate it when he’s right. I glance at the camera crew and frown. I wish they would get out of our faces for just a moment, but they have followed us everywhere today. I guess it is what we signed on for.
Freshly groomed, with his cream fur on display, Waffle sits proudly at our side, tongue hanging out, and I absently pat his head as I think about our predicament.
“What are we going to do? The Paramount doesn’t allow pets if they aren’t service animals,” I tell him.
“We can stay somewhere else tonight,” Simon says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Let’s find a place that allows animals.”
He eyes Waffle, who eyes him back. I know they will be fast friends before too long; it will just take a little time.
Simon’s phone starts to ring, and he pulls it out to check the caller ID.
“It’s work. I’ve got to take this,” he says, stepping away.
I glance around, thinking about bribing a crew member to steal me a suitcase I can put Waffle in to get him up the elevator. I sigh and rub my temples. Covert operations are clearly not my thing. It’s giving me a headache.
I look back down at Waffle, who is being such a good boy, acting like he’s been my pet his whole life. Then, I look over at Simon, who looks deep in conversation with whoever it is at work. There’s a frown on his face, making the skin between his eyebrows crease, and I want to smooth it out. I want to take the frown from him. I want him to smile again, like he has been all day.
