“Great. I can show you your room now, or we can have dinner. Unless you already ate?”
“No, not yet.”
“I was going to order pizza, but then Todd showed up. I have some really good sliced roast beef, though, if you want a sandwich.”
“That’s fine.”
She takes out a loaf of crusty bread and a bag of roast beef, some horseradish mayo and a packet of salad and lays everything out on the dining room table with two plates. We sit down and make a quick and easy dinner.
“By the way, I forgot to ask earlier,” she says, “do you have any pets you want to bring over?”
“No.” I don’t bother with the salad and take a bite of the huge sandwich I made with nothing but meat and the mayo.
“Oh.” She completes her sandwich with a slice of bread and a small frown.
“What?”
“I just thought… You seem like a dog person.” She takes a small bite.
Perceptive.“I do like dogs.”
“So why don’t you get one?”
I shrug.
“Is your place too small?”
“No.” My home is a three-story single unit with a sizable yard. I hire a high school kid on the block to mow it for me.
She gives me an inquiring look.
“I’ve never had one, so I don’t really want to start now.” I know the answer is weird, but I don’t want to elaborate. Ever since I lost Churchill when I was seven, I’ve never wanted another dog. I’m never going to forget how frantically upset he looked as he was dragged away. Or how he barked for me.
My chest hurts just from remembering the incident. I begged as he fought to stay with me, but Mom didn’t want me to have him. He was taking all my attention. It didn’t matter that my grades didn’t suffer. Or that my behavior didn’t deteriorate. I loved that dog too much, and that was a problem.
Emmett, Huxley and Grant came up with a plan to get my bulldog back, and all of us executed it. It failed miserably. In retrospect, a bunch of seven-year-olds weren’t going to outsmart a very determined adult drama queen.
“Well, there’s always a first time,” Sierra says. “I wanted to get a dog, but Todd didn’t want one.”
“Is that how you ended up with hamsters?” He couldn’t have wanted hamsters, especially when one of them is named to mock him. Or maybe he just didn’t get the joke.
“No.” She laughs. “He didn’t want them, either, but we bet on a game of poker, and I won. So…” She smiles, reliving the triumph. “But maybe I’ll get myself a dog, too.”
“That would be wise. A big, mean one that will deter Todd or anybody else and is only nice to you.”
She gives me a long, curious look. I can’t decide what she’s thinking. Probably something more complicated than I want to get laid.
Finally, she says, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
For some reason, my blood heats at the benign response. I bite into the sandwich. It must be that apple scent driving me insane.