“I’m not pissed,” I said finally.
“Then that concerns me even more. If you’re not mad, what’s been going on with you lately?”
I slouched against him. I’d never be anything but happy with Manning. We’d fought against the odds and won. We’d gotten what we’d wanted, probably more than we deserved. Was it fair to ask for more? “Work stress,” I said. “Dealing with people’s pets is more emotionally taxing than I thought it would be.”
“I love that you care so much,” he said. “You can unload on me anytime, though. Maybe I can help.”
There he went being compassionate again. I shifted, the straw suddenly prickly through the seat of my jeans. “I just have to get used to it. Things’ll calm down.”
“Is that all it is?” he asked. “I can’t think of anything that would be easier to handle on your own when you could talk to me about it.”
I looked back at him as best I could. It was the perfect opening to explain why watching Blue give birth was hard for me, the reasons I’d been shutting him out lately, and the uncertain future ahead of us.
He just looked so proud. So hopeful. These puppies and the onset of spring signified new life, birth, prosperity. I’d have to break his heart soon enough, but it didn’t need to be tonight. I angled my chin up, and he kissed me once on the lips. “I’m fine,” I told him. “And I love you.”
He smiled. “Lucky me.”
This time, Manning let me stand. I picked up Blue’s dish and walked back to the house wondering how many more times in my life I’d come up against a question nobody should ever have to ask.
Was love alone enough?
14
Eight weeks and five puppies later, Manning and I drove to Newport Beach. One puppy had curled into my lap up front while two more chased each other across the backseat of Manning’s truck, barking out the window at everything in sight.
“They’re probably anxious being separated from the others,” I said, pouting when Manning complained about the noise. He was already annoyed we’d had to stop twice to let them out. “We should’ve brought them all.”
“All?” he asked. “We’ve got enough excitement for a two-hour drive with Tweedledee and Tweedledum back there.”
“Stop calling them that.”
He laughed, sliding one hand down the steering wheel. “I’ll bet money your dad picks the female.”
I ruffled my fingers through the furry head in my lap. We’d agreed not to name the pups we were adopting out so we wouldn’t get attached, but I’d taken to calling her Lady since she was one of two females in the litter. “We could’ve at least brought Blue. She’s been grumpy, and I don’t blame her. She’s barely had a minute alone in weeks.”
“Sorry to break it to you, but that bitch isn’t leaving the house until she’s spayed.”
I gave Manning a reproachful look. Just because my anger with him had fizzled the moment I’d held Blue’s first puppy didn’t mean I’d forgotten anything. He was lucky I’d been too busy to stay mad at him. Not only had our sleep been compromised while potty-training five puppies at a time, but April had kicked off the most hectic quarter I’d seen since starting at the animal hospital. And, it was hard in general to be sad with a houseful of puppies. “Blue should be healed enough for the operation by now. We’re swamped at work, but—”
“I’ll bring her, even if I have to sit in the waiting room for hours,” he said with an exaggerated grimace. “You have my word.”
Lady looked up at me with icy blue eyes like her mom’s. “I don’t know, Manning. Maybe we should just . . .”
“Don’t even think about it.”
“We could keep them all,” I said with excitement, in hopes it’d rub off on him. “They’re a family.”
Manning barked a deep laugh that made Dee and Dum go still in the backseat. “You didn’t even want them in the first place.”
I covered Lady’s ears. “Shh. Don’t let them hear you say that.”
“Christ.” Manning stretched an arm along the back of my seat, absentmindedly touching my hair. “And what’ll everyone think if we show up to a—what’d you call it?”
“A puppy party.” I smiled. I’d co-opted Sunday dinner and invited Manning’s and my closest friends to my parents’ house to adopt a dog. Fortunately, they all seemed into the idea, because I hadn’t really given them much choice.
“What happens when we show up to a puppy party with no puppies?” Manning asked.
“I don’t think I care.” I held up Lady to Manning’s profile. “Do you see this face?”
“All I’ve seen the past month are big ol’ puppy-dog eyes, and not just from the dogs.” He arched a scolding eyebrow at me. “How you talked me in to keeping two of them, along with Blue, I’ll never understand.”
“With names like Altair and Vega, how could they not be ours?” I picked white fur off the Pink Floyd concert tee Manning had bought me when we’d seen Roger Waters live a few years earlier. “They’re two-thirds of Summer Triangle.”
“You do realize they didn’t come out of the womb with those names . . .”
I huffed. “It was always in the plan to have lots of animals. You knew that.”
“Over a lifetime, yes. Not all at once.” He sighed. “I’m dreading explaining three dogs to your dad. He’s going to think I’m some kind of pushover.”
I didn’t want to break it to Manning that when it came to me, especially where puppy-dog eyes were involved, he was a pushover. “Oh, fine,” I said, picking up Lady for some kisses. “We’ll have to come visit every weekend then.”
Manning flipped on his turn signal, shaking his head. “First, you get mad Blue’s pregnant, then you want to keep the entire litter. Now, you want to pay four visits a month to the family you didn’t speak to for over a decade.” He grunted but twirled a piece of my hair around his fingers. “Talk about a moody bitch.”
“Hey,” I said, smacking his chest as he laughed.
* * *
Manning and I had barely leashed the puppies when Gary opened my parents’ front door. The dogs ran circles around us, tangling their leashes as they sniffed out where to go to the bathroom.
“Are we late?” I asked, trying and failing to check my watch as Tweedledee pulled my arm taut. “I was going to walk you guys in since you don’t really know my parents that well.”
Lydia ducked under Gary’s arm. “It’s fine,” she said with a dismissive wave. “We talked to your parents at the wedding. I wanted to have first pick of the litter.”
“You can’t go wrong with any of them,” I said. “Although, they do have personalities.”
“Which one’s a beach dog?” Gary asked, coming down the walkway. “I need a surfing pal.”
“Surfing?” Lydia asked him. “As if I need more sand in the house. Which one’s not a beach dog?”
“Welcome to your future,” Manning said, passing Gary a plastic bag and pointing to Dee’s pile of poop. “Get scooping.”
My mom came to the door, waving us in. “What’re you doing out here?” she asked. “Everyone’s in the den.”
“The puppies are full of energy,” I said, hiking up my jeans by the belt loops. “They need to do a few laps around the block.”
Manning handed me Lady’s leash to help Gary. “It’s been a while since you’ve had kids in the house,” he said to my mom as he pulled another plastic bag from the back pocket of his jeans. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“We’ve never had a dog,” she answered, and with far less enthusiasm than I’d hoped for. “Except that one that died when Lake was seven.”
“Mom, please,” I hissed, picking up Lady while tugging the other puppies up the front steps and into the foyer. “They can understand you.”
Her eyes went wide. “They can?”
“Yes.” I set Lady down and hung my purse on a hook. “Dogs can read moods. They’re very sensitive. Death might depress them.”
“Bullshit,” Dad said, coming
out of his study. “Don’t tell me you buy that, Cathy.”
“Well, Lake is a vet.”
“Exactly,” Dad said. “She should understand that these are animals with one purpose: survival. They do not have emotions. They’re not teddy bears.” He stooped to pick up Lady, the calmest of the three, and held her in front of his face. “I could say this one’s going to be nothing but a nuisance in this household, and she wouldn’t understand a thing I said.”
“She senses your energy, Dad—whether you’re scared, happy, distressed.”
He tsked. “I’m surprised to hear that from a science-minded woman. Next you’ll tell me you believe in Tarot cards or magic or psychics. Nonsense.”
I glanced out the front door at Manning. He and Gary walked their bagged dog shit down to the garbage cans at the curb. I rarely had to pick up after the pups; Manning always beat me to it. He was my domestic hero and sexier than ever. There had to be a word for that—my ability to find him irresistible, and to love him fiercely, while he handled poop. “Magic,” I said under my breath.
Dad snorted, examining Lady’s underbelly, her paws and snout. She let him without protest, her eyes glued to his face. “This one’s a mutt.”
“Of course she is.” I crossed my arms. “They all are. We got Blue from the pound and we think she’s a mix of Border Collie and Australian Shepherd.”
“Which one’s ours?”
“Why not her?” I asked. Manning had already determined they’d be a good fit, and it seemed he was right. “That’s the one you chose.”
“I just picked up the first one I saw.”
“Then she chose you.”
He frowned at her. “What’s her name?”
“I’ve been calling her Lady to keep things orderly,” I answered, “but you can choose something else if you want.”
“Well, well.” He cocked his head at her as she wagged her tail, and for a moment, I thought he might actually cuddle her. Instead, he set her down. “Go on,” he said, but she sat on her haunches, looking up at him. When he took a step, she got up. “What’s she want?”
“Either she’s trying to herd you into the kitchen for food, or she likes you.”
He turned on his heel. “You’re anthropomorphizing again.”
“And you’re doing a good thing, Dad,” I said, following him through the house. “You and Mom need some excitement around here.”
“Between you and your sister, I’ve had enough excitement for one lifetime. This is your mother’s project, not mine.” In the kitchen, Manning washed his hands at the sink. “How’s business up there in Big Bear?” Dad asked.
Manning’s shoulders rose. Lately, he seemed more and more stressed whenever work came up, but I’d convinced myself it was my imagination. He’d hired a couple extra hands before Thanksgiving and had even admitted it’d been a good decision. Higher productivity freed Manning to accept more orders.
He turned, swiping a paper towel from its roll. “Better than ever.”
“You say that every time you’re here,” Dad pointed out.
“It’s true,” I said.
He nodded. “That’s what I like to hear.”
Manning balled up the towel. “I’ve been thinking of branching out a little. Maybe trying to get a crew together to look into some construction jobs around town.”
I drew my eyebrows together. “I didn’t know that.”
“I’ve mentioned it,” he said, still addressing my dad. “I’m only now getting serious about it.”
“But you love making furniture.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t be a contractor, too.” He glanced at me and then away. “Having help has opened up opportunities.”
I didn’t doubt that, but why hadn’t I heard about this until now? Before I could push the issue, my dad said, “I think it’s smart. Time to scale. That’s how you’ll make the real money.”
“We do very well,” I said to my dad. “Manning’s already making more than he did when he worked for you.”
“You don’t say?” Dad clapped his hands together. “This calls for a celebratory drink. What’re you having, Manning? Robby’s drinking a ‘mimosa’ because apparently, Tiffany is engaged to a sorority sister.”
Manning straightened his back, his chest out. “I picked up a bottle of Booker’s on the way in, sir.”
I stifled a laugh thinking of Manning’s earlier comment about not wanting to be a pushover. “Tiffany’s here?” I asked. “She said she didn’t want a dog.”
“That’s not true,” Tiffany called from the den. “I want one, but Robby’s allergic.”
I left the kitchen. The puppies were already zooming around my dad’s favorite recliner, where a nine-month-pregnant Tiffany sat. I’d never seen my sister with such naturally rosy, full cheeks. “Wow,” I said, standing in the doorway. “You really do have that pregnant woman’s glow.”
“I know—I’m a heifer. I look ten months pregnant. I don’t know what to do about it.”
“What can you do, sweetie?” Robby asked from the couch, where he’d huddled against one of the arms. He waved his champagne glass at me. “Afternoon, Lake.”
“Hi, Robby. You’re allergic to dogs?”
“Some,” he said, glancing around the room. “I really shouldn’t stay long. I just didn’t want Tiffany driving.”
“I can drive fine,” she said. “Will you get me some water, honey?”
“Sure.” Robby stood, smiling at me on his way to the kitchen. “Isn’t she glowing?”
I took his spot on the couch to be close to my sister. “How are you feeling?”
“Annoyed,” she said. “I might actually be willing to ditch Robby and his allergies for a puppy.”
“You don’t mean that,” I said. “I’ve never seen you so in love.”
“I was until week twenty-five,” she said, palming her belly. “Now I hate his guts.”
“Oh, please. I’m sure he’s been nothing but wonderful.”
“Too wonderful. I can’t get five minutes alone. Do you think you could sneak one of these dogs into our car?”
Before I could respond, Val walked in, squealing when she nearly tripped over Tweedledum chasing his tail. “Oh my God,” she said, bowing her legs to dance around him. In a floppy wool hat and plaid top tied at her belly button, she hooked her thumbs in her belt loops and jigged. “Did I die and go to heaven? Which one is mine?”
“They haven’t officially been assigned yet,” I said, laughing at her. “Except maybe the female. I think she’s attached to my dad. In fact, I haven’t seen her in a few minutes.”
She glanced at her reflection in the black TV screen, adjusting her hat. “I saw Manning in your dad’s study with a dog when I came in.”
“Great.” I rolled my eyes. “They’ll be in there all day. Where’s Corbin?”
“Talking to your mom and Gary.” Val scooped a puppy off the ground and flopped onto the couch next to me. She paused when she noticed Tiffany. “Holy shit. Is it supposed to be that big?”
Tiffany did her best to cover her stomach—which meant basically resting her hands at the crest of it. “Yes. No. I don’t know. Robby says it’s normal, and he’s a doctor.”
“I thought he was an acupuncturist.”
“I never said that,” Tiffany snapped. “He’s a board-certified physician and one of the top pediatricians in Orange—”
“Tiffany, she’s messing with you,” I said. “Just like she always does.”
“Sorry. I can’t help it.” Val sparred with Dum, who kept biting her fingers. “I can be annoyingly sarcastic sometimes. I use humor as a defense mechanism.”
Tiffany and I blinked at her. “What?” I asked.
“I think she’s doing the sarcasm thing again,” Tiffany said out of the side of her mouth.
“I’m not.” Val shrugged. “I’ve been doing a lot of introspection lately. And talking. Corbin and I talk a lot. You’d think we’d have run out of topics after sixteen years of friendship, b
ut nope.”
“And he said you use humor as a defense mechanism?” I asked. “That doesn’t sound like him.”
“No, I figured that out on my own when I was ten, Lake. It’s not rocket science. Corbin doesn’t like when I make too many jokes during serious discussions, though.” She sat back, staring at Tiffany’s stomach. “Some jokes are fine. But anyway. Enough about me. Is it painful?”
“Is what painful?” I asked.
“That.” Val pointed at Tiffany. “You look like an overripe tomato.”
Tiffany pushed herself up as much as she could in the lounger. “It’s mostly uncomfortable. Like, unbearably uncomfortable. There are things happening in my body—and coming out of it—I don’t even know how to describe.”
Val paled. “Gross.”
I smacked her arm. “Pregnancy is a completely natural and beautiful time for a woman.”
“Does Robby help?” Val asked, rubbing her bicep.
“As much as possible. Since he has to work a lot, he’s always sending me to the salon to get my hair blown out, or for pedicures. I mean, they’re a complete waste because I can’t even see my feet. I only go so they’ll massage them.”
Val blinked a few times. “But it doesn’t hurt?”
“Not really,” Tiffany said. “It feels funny when she kicks.”
Val’s back went straight as a rod. “It’s a girl?”
“Yep. Thank God,” Tiffany added. “I mean, either would’ve been fine, but now I get to buy her cute outfits.”
“Lake, why didn’t you tell me?” Val asked.
“I . . .” I studied Val. She had to have some angle for being nice to Tiffany, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. “I didn’t know you’d care?”
“Have you picked a name?” Val asked.
“Not yet.”
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