I patiently wait for him to do his business, which includes a few minutes where he attacks my shoelaces and tugs. Fuck, he’s cute.
Eventually, he sniffs around, tail high, and then abruptly squats to pee. I thought boy dogs lifted their legs, but maybe not at this age. As instructed, I immediately bend and give him extreme praise with an upbeat, positive tone that makes him excited. He puts his paws up on my shin, accepting my scratches with tail wagging and tongue lolling out the side of his head. Lucy is going to fall in love with this guy.
Our pre-meeting business done, I scoop Brody up in my arms and make my way to the sidewalk. The kitchen is at the front of the house, so I can see through a peek in the curtains over the sink that Ella is at the kitchen island with Lucy on the opposite side. My heart starts beating faster at the thought of spending the evening with my girls—and apparently the new boy in my arms—and I find it almost shameful I have such excitement over it. Shouldn’t I have always been this excited? Or is it normal for things to just settle, and we take them for granted?
I don’t know the answer to that, but instead, choose to just revel in the excitement I have right now.
At the door, I give it a few solid knocks and as planned, Ella will tell Lucy to answer it.
In moments, it’s swinging open. I get a flash of Ella walking up behind Lucy, but then my eyes are pinned on my daughter, whose own are wide with shock and pinned on the puppy squirming in my arms.
She stares mutely, frozen, as if she can’t decide what to do.
Finally, I say, “Surprise.”
Her gaze rises to meet mine. “I get the puppy today? But it’s not supposed to be until next week.”
I look over Lucy’s shoulder at Ella, who has a soft smile as she watches us. I give my attention to Lucy. “Well, your mother and I decided to callously lie to you so we could make it a surprise.”
Laughing, Lucy exclaims, “That’s a lie I can live with.”
Still, she makes no move forward, so I goad her. “Come get this damn dog before I start sneezing all over the place. His name is Brody.”
That’s all it takes for Lucy to scoop Brody into her arms, pressing her nose into his head and murmuring little endearments. He reacts to her voice by wiggling frantically and trying to lick her face. My daughter laughs in a delighted way I’ve never quite heard before.
Once again, I look at Ella, who is staring at our daughter and I can tell she’s as charmed by it as I am.
I move into the house, then shut the door. “He just peed outside, but you need to keep a close eye on him, Luce. If he starts sniffing around or circling, that probably means he has to use the bathroom. Scoop him up and hightail it out back. After he does his business, give him lots of praise and affirmation. It helps if your voice is on the higher side as he’ll respond better.”
“Got it,” she says while plopping on the living room floor and putting Brody down between her legs. The puppy jumps at her, and they start to play.
“There are a lot more things your mom and I need to go over with you, including some socialization, play techniques, and some light training.”
“Got it,” she replies again, not even paying attention to me because she’s so caught up in the little fur monster who is now chewing on the end of Lucy’s braid.
“Come on, Jim,” Ella says, and my gaze moves to her. She jerks her chin to the kitchen. “Dinner is almost done, and I have a cold beer for you.”
Lucy ignores us both as we move into the kitchen.
It would be natural for me to sit at the kitchen island while Ella gets the beer and checks on the baked ziti, but Lucy can see me from where she is in the living room. So I follow Ella behind the island. Before she can make it two steps, I move right into the back of her. Hands at her hips, I push her all the way forward until the counter catches her hips, then dip to put my lips to her neck.
Her head falls back and she utters the tiniest of sighs, one arm looping back to go around the side of my head so she can thread her fingers in my hair. It’s an intimate embrace, but not one to provoke lust. Just a message I missed her, and I love touching her in this gentle, loving way.
“Lucy might see us,” she murmurs.
“Oh, the tragedy,” I whisper dryly. “Our daughter seeing her parents hugging.”