Girls Just Wanna Have Pugs

by J. J. Howard

  “So many,” I said. “There’s the Museum of Natural History and Central Park and Riverside Park. Oh, and Zabar’s has the best bagels.”

  “The best place in the entire neighborhood is Amorino—it’s a gelato place!” Micki exclaimed, looking up from Sparky.

  “I love gelato,” Declan said. “Where is it?”

  “We can take you now!” Micki said, and I worked hard to not blush since she’d basically just invited both of us to go out for ice cream with Declan.

  But Declan just smiled and said, “Sounds good to me.”

  “Can I go back and look at the markers one more time?” Micki asked me, and I nodded.

  “Your sister seems to love dogs, too,” Declan said.

  “Yeah. I didn’t know quite how much until she met Sparky, though,” I said with a laugh.

  Declan patted Sparky’s head. “It’s hard to resist Sparky. I can’t believe my dad found her at a shelter.”

  “Really? I would have expected a purebred dog like her to come from a breeder.”

  “Och, noo—Sean Ward would ne’er do somethin’ as socially irresponsible as that, lass,” Declan said in another perfect imitation of his dad’s accent. I laughed again. “I meant to ask,” Declan added, “how come your parents don’t let you and Micki have pets of your own?”

  I frowned. “My dad’s gone a lot for his job, and my mom works full-time and is really busy, too.”

  “That’s a bummer, I’m sorry. But you can share Sparky, since we’re neighbors.”

  “That would be amazing!” I told him. “I mean, you should be careful offering to share one of the cutest puppies ever, though. What if I just went ahead and dog-napped her?”

  “I’d never let Sparky get dog-napped,” he said in a mock-fierce tone. “But what do you mean, ‘one of the cutest’? Are you implying that Sparky is not the single cutest puppy you’ve ever seen?”

  “Puppy? Yes. But don’t forget about Meatball.”

  “Oh, right, how could I forget your favorite?”

  “I think Sparky and Meatball should definitely meet up sometime,” I said. “They are sure to love each other.”

  Declan grinned. “I’m sure Sparky could use another friend. Poor girl’s just stuck with only me most of the time.” Declan scratched his puppy’s ears, and I sighed a little, thinking, I wouldn’t mind being stuck with you.

  I felt my cheeks turn pink again. I’d never been like this with any boy. I snuck another look at Declan. I knew I needed to be careful with my heart around a boy as cute as he was.

  “What’s the matter?” Declan asked.

  “Nothing,” I lied. “I was just thinking how cute Sparky and Meatball will be together. Maybe I could get Meatball a shirt to match Sparky’s. What’s the logo on it?”

  “Oh, my dad designed it. It’s her name spelled out in runes. Dad’s an artist, and folk symbols from ancient Ireland are kind of his thing.”

  “Never mind trying to match, then,” I said with a laugh.

  Micki came back then, holding a giant pack of markers. “Can I get this one?”

  I took it from her hand and looked at the price tag. “Not unless you want to see Mom’s head explode.”

  “Okay, how about this one?” Micki pulled a much smaller pack from behind her back. “It’s only ten dollars.”

  “Smart kid,” Declan said, giving Micki a wink, and she giggled.

  “I guess so. Mick, we should pay if you still want to stop for gelato,” I told her.

  “Of course I do, jeez,” Micki said, shaking her head and starting to push our little cart up to the front of the store.

  “Unless you weren’t done shopping?” I looked down at Declan’s cart.

  “I just need some mechanical pencils and I’m done,” he said.

  “I know right where those are,” I said, motioning for him to follow. He picked a pack of six and then pushed his cart to the front, with me walking alongside. I stepped up to pay for Micki’s and my supplies. The Levinsons’ daughter was ringing us up, and I was afraid we wouldn’t get any stickers, but I saw her smile at Micki and put a few sheets in the bag.

  After Declan paid for his supplies, he insisted on carrying our bags along with his. Declan let Micki carry Sparky in her tiny dog-carrying bag after she promised to be careful. I kept worrying she would bump into somebody on the crowded sidewalk, since she kept putting her face down into the bag to talk to Sparky.

  “One of the next generation of dog walkers for your business, right there,” Declan said.

  “Yeah, she keeps trying to join,” I said.

  “Don’t look so horrified. She’s doing a good job with Sparky.”

  “I guess so,” I said doubtfully. I turned to look at him as we walked. “It’s really nice of you to let Micki carry her, Declan. And to say we can share your puppy. Seeing you and Sparky really reminds me how much I want one of my own.”

  “Maybe you should ask your parents again. The holidays will be coming up before long.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” I said, thinking that I’d need to wait until the next time Dad was home. I knew if I asked Mom she’d just say, Wait until your father gets home. It was her default setting on anything remotely major.

  Amorino was less crowded than usual, so we got our gelato fast, and then of course we had to eat it fast, too, because it was still pretty hot outside.

  All too soon we were back inside the Burgundy’s lobby, and Declan was trading our shopping bags for Sparky’s carrier. We rode the elevator up together, and he got off on the fourth floor and waved goodbye.

  “I like him. He should be your boyfriend,” Micki said after the doors closed.

  “I know.” The words slipped out before I had a chance to stop myself.

  Micki turned to me, her mouth forming a surprised O. “You like like him!”

  “It’s more complicated than that, Mick,” I told her, blushing furiously. “And you can’t say anything to anybody—especially Declan himself, got it? He’s … well, you can see how ridiculously cute he is. Odds are he wouldn’t go for someone like me. So you have to promise.” I tried to ignore the feeling of panic in my stomach as I imagined Declan finding out.

  Micki frowned. “I don’t see why he wouldn’t like you.” But then the elevator doors opened, and Micki spotted a man with a suitcase standing outside our door.

  “Dad!” she yelled, and hurtled herself out of the elevator and into his arms.

  “Hi, Dad,” I said. After Micki finally let go of him, he pulled me forward and enveloped me in a big hug, too. His familiar Dad smell made me realize it had been forever since he’d been home.

  “Good to see you girls,” Dad said, unlocking our door.

  “We missed you,” Micki said, jumping around up and down. She almost looked happier than she had at the Intrepid museum yesterday. Wasn’t it sort of sad that my little sister was so excited for him to just be home? Shouldn’t your parent coming home be more of a normal, non-jumping-around type of thing? But I couldn’t blame her. Since Dad had been away so much lately, this felt like a big deal to me, too. But I couldn’t summon the same pure enthusiasm.

  “I’ve missed you, too,” he said as we walked inside the apartment. Dad set his suitcase down next to his favorite comfy chair. “I wasn’t sure I was going to make it home today, so I told your mother not to say anything. I figured it would be a nice surprise.” Dad slumped heavily into the chair. He looked tired. “Where is your mother?”

  Had Dad already forgotten our system? “I’m sure she wrote it on the fridge board,” I said. My voice sounded tight. Was I really feeling annoyed at him? He’d just gotten here. Why couldn’t I be more like Micki and just be glad he was here for a change?

  “Oh, of course!” Dad said with a laugh, slapping himself lightly on the forehead. “Sorry, I’ve been traveling since yesterday afternoon.”

  Micki was pawing through our bags from the store, ready to show Dad all the school supplies she’d picked out. I sat down on the floor and start
ed organizing everything into a pile for me and a pile for Micki.

  “Where did you fly in from?” I asked Dad, keeping my eyes on the school supplies.

  “Hong Kong.”

  “Look, Dad, I got markers and dog stickers and—”

  “Micki, hush,” I said, knowing I was being a little mean. “What’s Hong Kong like?” I asked Dad.

  “Very big, bright, and loud,” Dad said, closing his eyes. Micki perched on the arm of the chair. I wanted to ask Dad more about Hong Kong, and I especially wanted to tell him all about Four Paws, and to see if he had any business advice. But he just looked way too exhausted.

  “Do you want something to drink?” I asked him instead.

  “Some ice water would be great. Thanks, kid.”

  I checked the fridge board when I was in the kitchen and announced, “Mom went to get groceries.”

  Micki was chattering away at Dad, whose eyes were still closed. When I cleared my throat, holding out his glass of water, he finally opened them. “Thanks,” he said again. “Listen, girls, I’m just going to grab a shower and close my eyes for a few minutes, then I’ll be back to human again. You two decide where you’d like to go for dinner, okay?”

  “Can we go to Motorino?” Micki asked. It was her favorite place for pizza.

  Dad chuckled as he stood up. “I actually just went to the one in Hong Kong the other day.”

  “Oh,” Micki said, deflating. “We can pick something else.”

  “You girls talk about it,” he said, and shuffled into the master bedroom and closed the door.

  “I can’t believe he’s back,” Micki said. I noticed she’d stopped hopping up and down.

  “I know,” I told her. Watching her expression falling as she looked at the closed door, I thought of something to distract her. “I’m sure Dad will be napping for at least an hour, and I saw your backpack strap hanging by a few threads this week. Do you want to walk down to Marshalls? We can get you a new backpack.” I still had the card Mom had given me to pay for our school supplies.

  “Okay,” Micki said, though she still sounded kind of glum.

  I hoped Mom wouldn’t mind and that I could convince her that bribing Micki with a new backpack was better than watching her disappointment grow while Dad napped.

  * * *

  “Look, Mom, look!” Micki said when we got home. “Kat let me get a Descendants backpack!”

  I smiled at my sister’s return to her enthusiastic self. Sometimes the little things really helped.

  Mom was putting a bag of sandwiches on the counter, and she sent me an appreciative glance. Phew. “That’s great, Micki. I’m glad Kat had time to take you shopping.” My insides warmed knowing she was happy with me. “I picked up dinner from the deli.”

  “Dad said we could go out,” I said, trying not to pout.

  “Looks like he really needs the nap, girls,” Mom said. “Maybe tomorrow.”

  We ate around the kitchen island, Dad’s sandwich waiting for him in the fridge.

  After Micki went to bed, Mom came into my room. “Hey, I know it’s still pretty warm out, but do you want to make some cocoa with me?” she asked.

  I nodded. We used to make cocoa at bedtime when I was little. It was kind of our thing.

  I followed her out to the kitchen, and from my perch on my usual kitchen stool, I watched her pull everything out of the cabinets. Now that I was older I usually helped out with lots of chores around the house. But this was how we used to do cocoa time—Mom would make it for me.

  “That was a really nice idea, taking Micki out to get a new backpack,” she said, stirring the liquid in the small pot on the stove. Mom makes cocoa the old-fashioned way—she never uses the microwave.

  “I’m sorry I went without asking,” I said. “I know her strap was broken, but we didn’t check with you first that we could get one today.”

  She looked up at me. “That’s very mature of you, Kat. I think, today, Micki needed that, so I’m not mad.”

  For some reason, I felt hot tears forming in the corners of my eyes. I was glad I didn’t have to explain it to Mom. She knew why I’d done it. “Thanks” was all I could say.

  Mom carefully poured the cocoa into two mugs, then added the whipped cream. There are, of course, two schools of thought on hot cocoa: the marshmallow fans and the whipped cream ones. Our family falls enthusiastically into the second group.

  I accepted my mug—my favorite one, with a cartoon pug that reminded me of Meatball—and Mom sat down on the stool beside me.

  “You’re really growing up to be such a good big sister,” she told me.

  I felt the tears threaten again unexpectedly. It was nice, what she was saying to me. “Thank you,” I said again, my voice sounding a little hoarse. “I’m trying.”

  “That’s the secret to pretty much everything, kiddo. Trying.” She clinked her mug against mine, and we enjoyed our chocolaty, creamy treats together.

  * * *

  I’d missed a text from Lucy while Mom and I were having cocoa. I saw it when I returned to my room.

  Mom said she saw your dad was back. Going ok?

  I didn’t even really know how to answer the question. But I was grateful to Lucy for being insightful enough to ask.

  Can’t tell so far—he’s been asleep basically since he got back. It’s kind of … weird to have him here after so long.

  Seconds later, my phone lit up with a call notification from Lucy. I answered and immediately told her, “Hey. I’m okay.”

  “I just wanted to check,” Lucy said. “Your text sounded like maybe you weren’t.”

  I let out a sigh as I snuggled into my blankets. “I don’t even know,” I admitted. “Mom and Micki and I kind of have our routine. Everything is just so different when he’s here.” As soon as I said the words I started to regret them—Lucy had said to me before that she wished her dad had stuck around. It had always been just her and her mom because he left when she was really little. He still sent money and cards and presents on birthdays and Christmas, but that was about it.

  Although, maybe that sort of made Lucy the perfect person to talk to. Even though my dad wasn’t gone, he did miss a lot of things. Sometimes even birthdays and holidays.

  “It’s okay to talk about this stuff with me,” Lucy said. “I don’t mind.”

  “Stop reading my mind, Lucy Larrabee!” I told her.

  “I’m not a mind reader, Kat Cabot,” she said, laughing. “I just know you really well. We’ve been BFFs since fourth grade.”

  “I know,” I said. “And thanks for checking on me. I know you’re not supposed to use your phone after ten. You’re not going to get in trouble?”

  “Nah, Mom’s down in the gym. There’s a new guy she’s dating.” I could practically hear the eye roll in her voice, but she was mostly amused. “She’s been trying to step up her game.”

  “I’m glad you don’t mind your mom dating,” I said carefully. “That she doesn’t make it weird for you.”

  “Well, one day I’ll be off being a famous actor, so I don’t want her to be lonely!” Lucy said.

  I had to admire Lucy’s confidence that she would one day be a professional actor. Even though I felt like Four Paws was going well, I didn’t feel confident that it meant I would be a successful businesswoman when I was older—if I decided on a business career.

  “Don’t I know it,” I told her. “Hey, so I’ll see you tomorrow to walk to school?”

  “Sounds good. Night, Kat.”

  After I hung up, I got a text, and it was just our special emoji we’d been using since starting the business: the animal paw prints.

  I sent one back and turned off the light.

  When Micki and I got home from school the next day, Dad was back in his favorite chair.

  “Where’s Mom?” I asked.

  “Doing some laundry. She’ll be back in a minute. Hey, kiddos, I’m sorry about dinner last night. I guess the jet lag hit me harder than I expected.”

&n
bsp; “It’s okay,” I said.

  Micki was getting herself some juice, not even close to jumping up and down the way she had yesterday.

  “How about dinner tonight to make up for it?” Dad suggested, and I saw Micki’s face brighten.

  “That would be great,” I said, meaning it.

  Mom came in then with a big basket of laundry, and Dad told her Micki and I were on board for dinner.

  “Why don’t you girls do your homework and we’ll leave in about an hour?” Mom asked.

  I nodded and went to my room. I tried to focus on my algebra homework, but I was distracted thinking about Dad and why things still didn’t feel back to normal. When the Four Paws app dinged I was relieved. I accepted the last-minute walk and hopped up.

  “Where are you going?” Dad asked as I grabbed my sweater off the hook by the door.

  “I have to go walk a Chihuahua.”

  Dad was staring blankly at me. It was very clear in that moment that he had completely forgotten my new dog-walking business. I felt a pang of relief when I saw him figure it out. “Your project for Junior FBLA,” he said with a slow smile. “How’s it going?”

  “It’s going really well,” I told him, my spirits lifting. “I actually have a lot of questions I want to ask you. But I have to go walk Charlie now. I’ll be back in a few minutes. This is just a do-his-business walk—not going to the park for exercise or anything.”

  “Okay,” Dad said. “Be careful.”

  Charlie the Chihuahua was probably Taz’s favorite dog, although their relationship wasn’t as special as mine was with Meatball. Charlie lived on Taz’s floor, so she was usually the one to walk him, but I knew she wouldn’t mind that I’d grabbed the walk.

  Taz, Lucy, and I all had the keys to Charlie’s parents’ apartment, like we did now with a lot of our clients. Most of the time when people need somebody to walk their dog, it’s because they’re not home. Taz added an option for the app where clients could indicate that we were allowed to let ourselves in.

  I opened the door and saw Charlie wake up, picking up his tiny head and blinking sleepily at me. He’d been curled up in his cute little bed in the living room. He came ambling toward me, and I bent down to pet him. He really was an adorable little guy. Charlie might be my third favorite after Meatball and Sparky, I reflected as he rolled over for me to pet his wriggling white belly.