Chapter 1

by Ann Whitaker

  My sudden intake of breath startled Nick, who reared back and slapped a hand to his chest.

  Carmen pointed. “Look.”

  Nick and I leaned over and stared. In the corner of the room on a blanket, Blanco lay on her side, a proud Noche standing guard beside her. Nuzzling her belly were four tiny black and white pups. Parti-poodles.

  At first, all I could do was gape. When I finally pulled myself together long enough to look at Carmen, her face lit up in a wide smile. “See, I told you they’d gone poodle.”

  Later, as the four of us stood in the library, Berto popped the cork on a bottle of champagne and poured us each a glass, then held his high. “To poodles.”

  Nick and Carmen and I raised ours. “To poodles,” we echoed. Even Nick looked happy.

  “Now, everyone sit,” Carmen commanded.

  “Do we get a treat?” Nick asked, laughing.

  “You’re drinking your treat,” Berto said, grinning ear to ear.

  Carmen remained standing and clapped her hands to summon our full attention. “They’re five weeks old today. Two boys and two girls. We’ve named them Nick, Julie, Carmen, and Berto.”

  Berto interrupted. “Seems the little girls are already pushing the boys around. “What do you call that, Julie, alpha something?”

  Nick laughed.

  “Very funny,” I said to Berto. “How long have you known?”

  Carmen set her glass down, her eyes brightening. “Shortly after you left, Blanco started gaining weight. At first I thought she was depressed because everyone was gone. Even Berto was gone.” When she gave him one of her pouty looks, he reached over and hugged her. She continued her explanation. “Then I thought Blanco needed more exercise, so I walked her more often. She got even fatter. So when Berto got home, he fenced in a section out back where she and Noche could exercise. But she got fatter and fatter. I got scared, thinking she must have a tumor. Finally, I took her to the vet, and he surprised us with the news.”

  I took a sip of champagne. “I hate to say it, but I told you this would happen if you didn’t get them spayed and neutered.”

  Carmen gave me a smug look. “If I’d done that, we wouldn’t have these wonderful puppies. And I know you don’t approve, but Berto insists we keep them in the bedroom with us.”

  Next to her on the sofa, Berto beamed like a proud father. No doubt about it. He was puppy-whipped. “We’re lucky she had a small litter. The vet said the average is six to twelve. But don’t worry. We’ve already made an appointment for surgery. This litter will be the last. And no Neuticles. Noche has proven his machismo.”

  Everyone laughed, and Berto poured another round. “Tell them your other news,” he prompted Carmen.

  She stood, flipped her hair back, and crossed her arms, as if defying anyone to challenge her. “Julie, do you remember when I told you I had a big surprise for Berto the night of the dogs’ graduation party?”

  “Your son came home. I remember.”

  Carmen laughed. “That was only part of the surprise. I didn’t want to tell anyone but Berto until it was a—what you call it?—done deal. Now it is. I’m so excited.”

  She held her hands overhead and snapped her fingers as if playing castanets. “I’ve been taking classes on how to train dogs. As soon as I’m certified, I’m opening a school. I’m calling it Perro Bueno. That means Good Dog in English.”

  Nick and I burst out laughing.

  “You don’t like it?” Carmen cried.

  “No, no, I love it!” I told her. “I’m just amazed at all that’s happened.”

  Carmen eased herself onto the sofa next to Berto, set her glass on the table, and locked her arm through his. “It’s all because of you, Julie. You told me I needed to do something for myself. Remember how you said lots of dogs get abandoned or can’t get adopted because they aren’t trained? I’ve already started working with dogs from the Humane Society to make them more adoptable.”

  She looked lovingly into Berto’s dark eyes and gave his arm a squeeze. “I know it won’t be as easy as with Noche and Blanco, but this is something I really want to do that needs to be done. Did you know they have to kill over 10,000 animals a year? Just here in Waco? And the excuses people give for dumping their dogs, like: didn’t match the new furniture!”

  “Tell her the rest,” Berto urged.

  Carmen looked down at her lap, as if unsure how to proceed. “I-I was wondering if you’d be willing to help, Julie.”

  I was already experiencing sensory overload—still reeling from seeing Nick again, learning about the puppies, listening to the new Carmen, not to mention the buzz from the champagne. Finally, I choked out a few words. “What do you mean by help?”

  I’d underestimated Carmen’s ability to deliver a triple whammy. “I mean, move to Waco and be my partner. Help with the training. We really need someone with medical skills. This is just a start. The Humane Society has already given us the blue light!”

  Berto leaned toward Carmen, “That’s the green light, honey. Blue light is like a special at K-Mart.”

  She tossed her head. “Whatever. They gave me the okay thumbs. They said it was a great idea.”

  “You want me to move to Waco?” I was having a tough time digesting it all.

  “Take some time to think about it, but I hope you’ll say yes. You could stay in the apartment until you find a place of your own. Or you could stay there permanently if you want.”

  When Nick rose to his feet, Carmen’s offer faded into the stratosphere. No way could I live in Waco where I would see him on a regular basis. Like the song said, I didn’t have time for the pain. Nick cleared his throat. “Carmen, Berto, it is a wonderful idea, and I have no doubts Julie would be perfect to help you with it.”

  I sat up straighter and glared at him. Was he trying to run my life now? This was none of his business.

  He propped a foot on the hearth and leaned his elbow on the mantel. “There’s a slight problem.”

  No mistaking his motives this time. After the way I’d treated him, he didn’t want to be thrown into my company either.

  I jumped in before he could go any further. “Nick’s right. I’ve got my job in Abilene, my family…”

  “As usual, Julie has a problem with interpretation.” I stiffened when Nick cut me off. He took note of my body language and chuckled. “I was referring to a trip I’m taking to Paris.”

  “Big deal. What does your trip to some Podunk place in North Texas have to do with my decision?”

  He grinned. “As I said, you misunderstand. Not Paris, Texas—Paris, France. On a big plane. My honeymoon.”

  “Honeymoon?” Carmen and Berto bellowed. I couldn’t speak. My heart sank. Nick was getting married. Tears stung my eyes, but I held them back.

  Berto and Carmen didn’t seem to notice. “But who?” Carmen asked.

  Nick sank to one knee. “Julie. If she’ll have me.”

  “I told you, Berto!” Carmen squealed, shaking his arm. “I told you if we could find an excuse to get them together again, they’d see they were meant for each other.”

  I felt like an actress in a movie. This couldn’t be happening to me. “You mean you deliberately told us the dogs had gone poodle to get us here together?”

  Carmen flashed a big smile. “It worked, didn’t it? Remember what you told me once? You said if there are angels on earth, they’re in the form of dogs. Well, our four little angels have worked a miracle.”

  I turned to Nick. “About Paris.”

  “I understand. Now that your adoption center is in the black, you don’t need to get married for the trust fund money.”

  That’s when it hit me. The anonymous donor who’d made my dream a reality. Nick.

  Berto and Carmen moaned as they watched their matchmaking bubble burst. “Oh, nooo,” Carmen cried.

  I raised my hand for silence. “Wait a minute. My turn. Nick, I appreciate your offer.” I paused, my face serious. “But I’ve been to Paris. And I’ll always have Pa
ris.”

  Berto’s and Carmen’s faces had drooped so much they resembled bloodhounds.

  I smiled ever so slowly. “But I’ve never been in Cognito.”

  When I saw Nick’s eyes twinkle, I continued. “You may be able to handle the building, but you’re going to need someone to help get your clinic stocked with the necessary equipment and medicine and find and train a staff—”

  Carmen jumped up and grabbed both my arms and shook me. “Julie! Don’t say you’ll think about it. Hurry up and tell him yes, would you, before you two have another interpretation problem? Then you can fight all you want about where you’re going.”

  All eyes turned toward me. I knelt down beside Nick. I would never be submissive enough to roll over and pee on myself, but I was willing to meet him on his level. I wagged my tail and licked his cheek.

  He grinned, reached over, and hugged me so tight I yelped. “I believe that means yes in dog language,” he said.

  Upstairs, one of the dogs let out a happy bark. I took it as a positive sign.

  Later that night in the bed of my old apartment at Cielo por el Lago, with the light from the moon glancing off the tranquil water of the lake, Nick and I finished what we’d started that night months ago back in Abilene.

  Only this time, Philip snoozed peacefully in his crate near the foot of the bed.

  About the author...

  Ann Whitaker lives in the heart of Texas with her journalist husband and two dogs—Jolie Blon, a spoiled Cajun poodle, and Mardi Gras, a retired pet therapy dog. A reformed high school and college English teacher, she's published poetry, non-fiction, and short fiction in newspapers, literary journals, and magazines. Her fictional characters are often larger than life and sometimes find themselves in absurd situations. When not writing, Ann plays mah jongg, reads, sings, and plays the guitar.

  Visit her at www.annwhitaker.com.

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