Shit.
“Uh-huh,” the lady answers, and the saddened look that takes shape on Joey’s face could make a grown adult cry.
I know this because I feel like crying. I swallow back the emotion and start to tell Joey it’s time to go, but thanks to the lady in the green polo’s commentary about dogs without mamas, she’s too fixated on the shaking small dog.
“You poor little fella.” Joey leans down and carefully reaches out to touch the top of Ernie’s head, and he looks up at her with big, rounded eyes. “It’s okay,” she whispers, and the dog moves as close to her as the fenced-in area will allow.
“Aw, I think he likes you,” the lady says.
“It’s probably ’cause I know what it’s like to have your mama not want to stay with you.”
Oh, hell’s bells. My heart wants to break in half at her words. Obviously, Anna’s absentee parenting has had more of an effect on her than Rhett even thought.
“I wish I could take him home and be his mama,” Joey says and locks her big blue eyes with mine. “I think Ernie would be so happy with me, Leah, don’t you?”
I have no idea what to say.
For one, I’ll be honest, Ernie is about the ugliest dog I’ve ever seen.
And two, the fact that this little girl has to voice that her mama doesn’t want to stay with her is one of the worst things my ears have ever heard.
“Can I get him, Leah?” Joey asks. “Can I adopt Ernie so he doesn’t have to be alone and scared without a mama?”
I open my mouth like a fish trying to gulp water, and no words come out.
Holy hell, how can I tell her that we can’t take this dog home?
“The adoption fee is only fifty-five dollars,” the lady updates, more than motivated to get this dog adopted. “And for another fifty dollars on top of that, we can make sure you have a cage and a dog bed and toys and food for Ernie.”
I should say no. Obviously. I’m definitely not the one who should be making this decision.
But doing what I should do and doing what my heart is begging me to do are two very different things.
And when I hand my credit card off to the lady, it’s pretty apparent which path I choose.
Uh oh.
We’re about fifteen minutes from the ranch, and I look over to see Ernie—who is now sporting a sparkly blue collar and a T-shirt that says Yeehaw!—all curled up in Joey’s lap. Her face is covered in a constant smile, and her fingers keep caressing the fur of the dog I definitely should not have adopted.
I didn’t even call Rhett.
I just got so lost in the moment, so lost in Joey’s sadness, that I adopted the damn dog without her daddy’s permission and…shit.
“So, uh, you think your daddy is going to be mad about Ernie?”
Joey looks over at me and nods. “Probably.”
“Uh…have you ever asked him if you could get a dog before?”
She nods again. “Yep.”
“And I take it he said no?”
“Yep.”
Fuck.
This is all information I probably should’ve asked before I, you know, adopted this fucking dog.
“So, how exactly do you suggest we break the news to him?”
“I’m not too sure.” Joey shrugs. “Maybe Ernie should stay at your cabin for a little while until we can find a way to sneak him into my house so my daddy doesn’t find out.”
I’m not sure why I thought a five-year-old would be able to help me figure out how to handle this situation, but yeah, it’s apparent Rhett is not going to be happy about this.
“You know, Friday is my birthday,” Joey comments. “Maybe you can just act like you got me Ernie for my birthday?”
“Your birthday is Friday?”
“Uh-huh.” She smiles proudly. “I’m gonna be six years old.”
“So, almost a full-fledged woman then, huh?”
She smiles proudly. “Pretty much.”
Goddamn. She’s cute. No wonder she talked me into adopting Ernie.
“You know what’s kind of crazy, Joe?”
“What?”
“My birthday is Friday too.”
“It is?” Her blue eyes light up.
“It really is.”
“How old are you gonna be?”
“Definitely not six.”
Joey giggles. “Well, I know that. Duh!”
“I’ll be thirty-three.”
“That’s three years younger than my daddy.”
I nod and take a right onto the road that leads into the ranch.
“You know what I think?”
“What do you think, Joey?”
“I think you should stay on the ranch forever and fall in love with my daddy and then get married and then you can tell him about Ernie and then he won’t be so mad about it.”
A laugh jumps from my lungs. “That’s quite the plan.”
“It’s a good plan,” she states with conviction. “Because you’d stay on the ranch with us forever and my daddy wouldn’t be able to be mad about Ernie because you’d be his wife and I know that wives get to make all sorts of rules because my granny Jenny does it all the time with my granddaddy Tex.”