“Treat? Do you want a treat?” I hold up a treat. “Roll over.”
It’s a no-go.
“Fine. Have it your way.” I grab a few dry clumps of dirt and rub them over her fur. When that doesn’t seem to make a big difference, I retrieve my watering can and get the dirt wet. “Now we’re talking.”
After I sufficiently get her dirty, I dip my hands into the rest of the water and rinse them before wiping them on the sides of my denim shorts. It wouldn’t hurt for me to look a little dirty and disheveled as well.
It takes us fifteen minutes to walk to Wag Your Tail to wash my dirty dog. There are a few other customers and dogs milling around the store. Two of the three dog wash stations are occupied. It’s nice to know my dog isn’t the only one that gets so dirty.
“Sophie.” Marta smiles from the register as she helps a customer.
I return a smile and an easy nod.
“Looking for Shep?” she asks, swiping the customer’s credit card.
“No … I’m …” I stutter for a few seconds, answering her honestly in my head. Yes, I’m looking for Shep. Yes, I dirtied my dog on purpose just for an excuse to come in here and take my sweet time washing her while giving Shep a chance to … what? I’m not sure. I clear my throat. “Cersei got into some mud. I just need to wash her. If he’s not here or if he’s busy, it’s no big deal. I really just came to wash her.”
I no sooner start washing Cersei and Shep’s laughter fills the room. It gives me goose bumps. However, I pause a minute before glancing over my shoulder because I know that laughter isn’t for me. Someone else is the lucky recipient of that level of happiness and the smile I’m sure accompanies it. As if my head is on a squeaky swivel that I don’t want anyone to hear, I turn ever so slowly until I see Riley (the perky new employee) clinging to Shep’s arm like it’s the only thing keeping her standing as she cries in silent laughter.
Really, she should take a breath. I can’t imagine what could be that funny. Unless they’re talking about my life. It’s hysterical. A tragicomedy.
A pickle.
A quandary.
A muddle.
“You kill me, Shep,” Riley says as she peels herself from his arm and floats three feet away to assist a customer.
What’s she doing here? I thought she was working weekends and every other Wednesday night. It’s a Thursday.
“Your friend is here, Shep,” Marta says, and I whip my head back around and focus on my dirty dog.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” he says.
Dog. And Cersei hardly dragged me in here. It’s really the other way around. Thank god she can’t tell him that.
“Oh, hey.” I smile when he positions himself on the opposite side of the wash bay.
“What happened? She looks like she rolled in mud? Where’d she get into mud? Did it rain when I was in the back room?”
Why does he have to be such a detective? Does it matter where she got into mud? Does he ask all the other customers twenty questions regarding the location and circumstances that led to their dogs needing a bath? I think not.
“I see Riley’s working Thursdays now.” That’s my answer to his line of questioning.
“What?” Shep narrows his eyes. It takes him a few extra seconds to catch up to my shifting of the conversation away from my dirty dog antics to his new employee being here on a Thursday. My mind goes wild, like a pack of dogs off leash.
What were they doing in the back room?
Why must she lean on him when she’s laughing?
Does she have a boyfriend squatting at her place?
Is she carrying someone else’s baby?
Would she run out on Shep if he tried to tie her to his bed?
Am I losing my fucking mind?
So many good questions. Maybe I don’t have a classic case of morning sickness driving me to stay in bed or remain within feet of a toilet, but something wonky is going on with my thoughts.
“Nothing.” There’s no need to repeat my Riley observation since I have no point in making it.
“Are you…” his confusion turns into a smirk “...jealous of Riley?”
“Do I look jealous of Riley?” I soap Cersei. It’s an honest question because yeah, I feel jealous of Riley, and I’m curious if that really shows.
Shep helps me suds my wiggly dog. “I thought you were going to call me to meet up at the park.”
“I thought you were going to call me,” I say.
“The park was your idea. And I told you to call me when it would work for you.”
Keeping my gaze on Cersei as I rinse her off, I shrug. “Well, clearly you didn’t care to meet me since you weren’t going to call if I didn’t call.”