About a Dog

by Jenn McKinlay

  “By any chance, and I ask this purely from an information gathering place and not as an accusation, are you mad at us?” Mac asked.

  Carly and Jillian closed ranks around Mac and they all stared at Emma with varying looks of concern and worry. Emma tipped her head to the side and gave them a hurt and confused look. Her eyes looked sad and she pressed her lips together. Mac thought she was trying not to cry, but Emma shocked her by busting out a belly laugh as if she just couldn’t hold it in any longer.

  “Gotcha!” she cried. She winked and pointed at them with both index fingers.

  Mac, Carly, and Jillian exchanged confused glances and then Jillian, the quickest on the uptake, asked, “You punked us?”

  Emma nodded and then bent over as she laughed with abandon. “You should have seen your faces! That was the best.”

  “I hate you,” Carly said with more respect than heat. Then she started laughing. Mac and Jillian joined in, although Mac felt it was more from relief than actual amusement.

  “Ow, can’t breathe, dress too tight!” Carly gasped. Jillian hurriedly unzipped her and Carly sucked in a few deep breaths before announcing, “Well, this was fun but I’m changing. Now!”

  “Wait!” Emma said. “Look behind the garment bag in your dressing room, that’s your real dress.”

  Jillian and Carly darted excitedly into their changing rooms, but Mac paused beside Emma and said, “Explain.”

  “Simple. You know what a pain Carly is about clothes; I mean she is a fashion buyer so I get it, but still, she never likes the first thing she tries on, ever, so I figured if you all thought the dress I picked was truly hideous, then she would be thrilled with the dress I actually picked.” She gave Mac a devious smile. “Bet you a fiver I’m right.”

  Mac raised her hands in a sign of surrender. “That’s a sucker’s bet. You didn’t actually have some poor sap sew these eyesores, did you?”

  “Nah, these dresses were some rejects from last season that the shop hasn’t been able to unload.”

  “Shocker,” Mac said.

  “When I saw the sizes were close to yours, I asked my dressmaker Suzanne if I could borrow them.” Emma shrugged. “I figured it would be a hoot, and it was, it totally was.”

  “I’ve got to give it to you; that was genius.”

  Emma grinned. Then she shooed Mac back into her dressing room. “Hurry up, go change, I want to see.”

  Mac ducked back behind her curtain to change. Sure enough, behind the first black garment bag was another one. She unzipped it and her breath caught.

  A simple Windsor blue chemise, in a delicate chiffon with a matching silk lining, peeked out of the bag at her. Relief almost made her knees buckle. She pulled it off the hanger and saw it had a V-neckline, with a thin blue ribbon tied in a small bow right below the bodice and a matching wide blue ribbon at the hem, which landed just above her knees.

  The dress was perfect and lovely and when Mac pulled it over her head, it felt like diving into a cool blue pool of water.

  “Now this is what I’m talking about,” Carly said.

  “Amen,” Jillian echoed.

  “Count of three?” Carly asked.

  “I’m ready,” Mac called.

  “One. Two. Three.”

  As one they stepped out of their dressing rooms to find Emma beaming at them.

  “Do you like them?” she asked. She looked nervous. “Really like them?”

  Carly opened her arms and initiated a group hug. “Sweetie, they are perfection.”

  As Mac was enfolded into the group, she couldn’t help but think how much she had missed this over the past few years—the closeness, the camaraderie, the pranks, and the love. These women were her oldest friends, her people; how could she have run away from them for so long?

  Chapter 2

  “Four more skinny margaritas,” Carly ordered from the waitress who paused by their table. “And now, I must dance.”

  Carly looped her arm through Jillian’s and dragged her to the dance floor. Mac watched them as they swiveled and gyrated to the DJ’s thumping beat. They were clearing a nice chunk of floor space for themselves but not in a good way.

  “Dang, Carly looks like a chicken being electrocuted out there,” Emma said as she slid onto the stool beside Mac.

  “And is completely unaware of it,” Mac agreed. She glanced at Emma, who was tucking her cell phone back into her clutch. “How’s Brad?”

  “He misses me desperately, natch,” she said. She tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder.

  Mac smiled. Emma and Brad had met the old-fashioned way, in a bar, when he had tackled her to keep a drunk who happened to be his best friend from throwing up on her. The drunk had thrown up on Brad instead. Ah, the romance.

  “Listen, I’m sorry I haven’t been more available for wedding stuff,” Mac said. “I mean we’re just a few weeks out and you had to have the dresses made up off of our measurements, because I couldn’t get back here for fittings . . .”

  “Carly couldn’t make it either,” Emma said.

  “Yes, but I’m the maid of honor. I’m supposed to be at your beck and call, you know, helping with the cake and flowers and all that junk.”

  “Okay, the fact that you just called it junk is exactly why being one thousand miles away in Chicago makes you the perfect maid of honor. No interference, no second guessing, really, you’re good,” Emma said. She picked up her glass and took a healthy swig.

  “Ugh, see? I can’t even feign enthusiasm. I’m the worst. If you want to replace me with Carly or Jillian, I will totally understand,” Mac said. She knew she was a little loose lipped from the drinks but she was also as serious as a heart attack.

  Emma waved her off. “Shut up, you idiot. You’re my oldest friend. I could never replace you; besides, you’re here now and you’re actually going to set foot in Bluff Point for the ceremony, so how can I complain?”

  Mac felt her heart lurch and her palms get damp at the thought of going home. It had been years since she’d set foot in her hometown of Bluff Point, Maine, and only for Emma was she willing to go back.

  She had met Emma Tolliver in first grade when they arrived wearing matching Little Mermaid backpacks and decided they were twins. They quickly bonded over a love of Polly Pocket dolls and a hatred of Jessie Peeler, the meanest girl in their class. By sixth grade their ranks had filled out to include Carly and Jillian.

  Some of the best days of Mac’s life had been spent in that small coastal town, hanging out at the beach with her gal pals and dreaming about the future. But then the very worst day of her life had been spent there as well and she hadn’t returned since.

  Emma put her hand on Mac’s arm. “Are you sure you’re okay with coming home?”

  “Huh?” Mac shook her head, trying to clear away the margaritas and bad memories. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I mean, it’s been seven years; surely, everyone is over the drama by now.”

  “Of course they are,” Emma said. “In fact, since Tilda Curtis left Doc Curtis for their babysitter Hannah Bishop, who was barely of age at the time, well, let’s just say the lesbian affair eclipsed you being left at the altar by Seth Connelly by a mile. They’re all anyone ever talks about now.”

  Mac didn’t even cringe at the words “left at the altar.” So, progress, right? She would have patted herself on the back for such personal growth but she was afraid her last skinny margarita might cause her to fall off her stool in an indelicate heap.

  “I’ll have to be sure to send Tilda and Hannah a thank-you note,” she said.

  Emma laughed. She threw her arm around Mac’s shoulders and hugged her hard. “That’s my girl. So, is Trevor definitely not going to make it to the wedding?” she asked.

  Mac glanced at Emma. She knew this was the moment she should come clean about her and Trevor. Emma asking about him made it a natural segu
e in the conversation, but she just couldn’t do it. She knew her bestie was not enamored of her boyfriend of the past few years. The few times Emma and Brad had come to see Mac and Trevor in Chicago, the visits had been awkward at best and downright hostile at worst. To tell Emma that Trevor had asked to take a break from seeing her would just fuel the fire of Emma’s dislike of him and when they did get back together, Emma would be even less happy than before, if that was even possible.

  Mac and Trevor were neighbors who dated, split everything down the middle, and while they enjoyed a robust social life together, they also retreated to their separate domiciles afterwards. Being an accountant, the relationship suited Mac as it was easily quantifiable in a profit and loss sense. She profited by having a date when she wanted one and she lost the risk factor of having her world decimated by Trevor since she maintained a healthy boundary between them.

  Emma did not approve. She felt that in a relationship, a person should be all in or why bother and she had no qualms about sharing her feelings on the subject, especially when they were all together. Trevor taking a break from Mac would be inconceivable to Emma. It didn’t help that his being unable to attend Emma and Brad’s big day was undoubtedly not going to foster any additional warm fuzzies for him. Mac had no desire to make it worse.

  “He is so sorry he can’t make it,” Mac lied. “He really tried to get the time off from work, but they’re negotiating a big deal in London and he’ll be gone for weeks. There was just no way he could get back here.”

  “Yes, I’m sure he’s quite distraught,” Emma said. Her tone was as dry as a hot wind.

  “Really—” Mac began but Emma shook her head.

  “It’s fine,” she said. “In fact, it might be for the best.”

  “What do you mean?” Mac asked. She didn’t like the gleam in Emma’s eye. Their friendship was based upon a lifetime of one of them having a really stupid idea and the other one agreeing like a dope. Sometimes she was amazed they had even survived to adulthood, and now whenever she saw that glint in Emma’s eye she got nervous.

  “This isn’t like that time you thought it would be a great idea to dress up in gowns and follow Tim Tucker and Kyle Richards to their prom because you were hoping they needed dates, is it?” she asked.

  “That plan totally would have worked,” Emma protested.

  “Yeah, if they hadn’t actually already had dates that they were on their way to pick up, but they did,” Mac said.

  “My intel was bad,” Emma admitted. “But, hey, we hung out at the Frosty Freeze all evening and met those cute guys from Portland.”

  “Who were in college.”

  “It wasn’t my idea to go to Belmont Park with them. That was all you,” Emma said.

  “When your dad found us . . .” Mac said. She hissed a breath through her teeth; the memory still made her toes curl and not in a good way.

  “And he brought your dad for backup,” Emma said with a laugh. “I didn’t think we’d ever see daylight again.”

  Mac laughed. It was true. Her father, the mildest man who ever lived, had been so outraged he couldn’t even speak. It had been days before she was allowed to leave her room unsupervised.

  “Well, we were only fourteen and we did sneak out of our houses,” Mac said. “We can’t blame them.”

  “Still, totally worth it.” Emma held up her fist for a bump. Mac frowned.

  “Is that still a thing?” she asked.

  “Come on, give me bones,” Emma cajoled.

  Mac bumped her knuckles into Emma’s with a smile.

  “Okay, so here’s the deal,” Emma said. “I’m pairing you up with Gavin for the wedding.”

  Mac felt her insides spasm. She picked up her drink and tried to look casual, although she feared she looked like she was about to get sick, which was not far off the mark. She took a healthy swig, because that would surely help, before speaking.

  “Oh, okay, I didn’t realize he was Brad’s best man,” Mac said.

  “He’s not, Brad’s brother Bobby is,” Emma said. “Gavin is more the second in command of the ring, but since he just went through that nasty breakup, I thought it would really cheer him up to be paired with you.”

  “Okay,” Mac said. She wanted to slap herself. This was not okay. There was nothing okay about this. She drained her glass.

  “I figure we’ll just have Bobby stand with Brad and then Gavin can walk you into the wedding and be your escort at the reception and all of the other wedding events. That way you won’t have to feel self-conscious about being solo, especially when you’re coming home for the first time in forever. Perfect, right?” Emma asked.

  Mac nodded. She had no other choice since her powers of speech had vanished in one swallow like the booze in her glass.

  “Are you sure?” Emma asked. She squinted at Mac. “You know I wouldn’t ask but the beyotch who broke Gavin’s heart ran off with his business manager who absconded with most of Gavin’s savings before departing. Honestly, I’ve never seen Gav so depressed, and I just thought since he’s had a crush on you for forever—”

  “No, he hasn’t,” Mac argued.

  “Uh, duh, yes he has, like since he was eight,” Emma said. “It’s really so adorable. So, you’re good with this?”

  “Yeah, of course I’m good, really good,” Mac said. She bobbed her head in what she hoped looked like an affirmative motion and not the panic-induced seizure it actually was.

  “Yay!” Emma clapped and then hugged Mac in a hold that strangled. “Oh, and do me a favor and don’t mention to Gavin that I asked you to pair up with him or that you have a boyfriend.”

  “You want me to lie to Gavin?” Mac asked. Despite the fibbing of the past ten minutes, she was the world’s worst liar.

  “No!” Emma insisted. “Just, you know, don’t tell him everything.”

  “Yeah, that’s lying by omission.”

  “Maybe, but you do owe me one.”

  Mac lifted one eyebrow and looked at her friend in surprise. They had never tallied the favors between them before and she couldn’t believe Emma was doing it now.

  “I hate to mention it, but when you blew out of town after your aborted wedding, who cleaned up the mess?” Emma asked. “Who wrote a million thank-you notes and returned all the gifts? Who made peace with the photographer, the caterer, the band—do I need to go on?”

  “No,” Mac grumbled. “I know you did all of that for me and I am forever grateful.”

  “And you always said if there was anything you could do to pay me back, all I had to do was ask. Well, I’m asking,” Emma said.

  Mac let out a sigh. She had always known this day would come, but she had thought it would entail babysitting Emma’s kids while she and Brad took off for a romantic weekend. She had never envisioned this exacting of a payback.

  “Of course, I want to help out anyway I can. It’s just I don’t think I can hide the truth from . . . oh, no, don’t you dare,” Mac ordered. It was too late.

  Emma was looking at her with big, blue imploring eyes. This was the best weapon in Emma’s how-to-bend-people-to-her-will arsenal. She could do the sad puppy eyes like no one else and she had employed this very trick to get the two of them out of several sticky situations over the years.

  “No.” Mac shook her head, trying to ward off the look. “Sad puppy eyes will not work on me. I’m immune. Seriously, I am not some ticket agent at the airline that you can bamboozle into upgrading you to first class for free.”

  Emma ducked her head as if she was about to cry and Mac felt the twist in her gut that indicated she was going to lose this contest of wills. She had to fight it.

  “I mean it, Emma,” she said.

  At the sound of her name, Emma glanced up with sad puppy eyes fully engaged and she added the quivering lip. Boom.

  “Oh, hell!” Mac snapped. “Fine, I’ll do
it, but if Gavin straight-out asks me if I’m seeing anyone, I am not going to lie to him.”

  But, of course, if she told Gavin she was seeing someone then technically she would be lying since she and Trevor were on a break. Oh, man, this was why she hated lying, suddenly everything was so complicated!

  Emma’s face cleared like a blast of sunshine through a cloud. “I knew I could count on you, Mac. Everything is coming together just like I hoped. This is going to be the best wedding ever.”

  Mac forced her lips to curve up. It must have looked better than it felt because Emma continued to beam at her.

  “Come on, let’s go dance,” Emma said.

  “You go ahead.” Mac gestured at the table. “We have drinks coming so I should wait.”

  “Come out when they get here,” Emma ordered.

  She skipped off to the dance floor and Mac watched as she tapped in and Carly tapped out. She didn’t think she was imagining that as Carly walked, she listed to the side like a leaky little boat.

  “I think I got a hitch in my get-a-long,” Carly said. She stretched out her back and sat down just as the waitress arrived with fresh drinks. “Ah, timing, as they say, is everything.”

  Mac resisted the urge to knock back all four drinks in front of her. Instead, she paid the waitress and tipped her generously, hoping that it would give her a positive karmic boost of which she was suddenly in desperate need.

  “Spill it,” Carly said.

  “What? My drink? Where? On my dress?” Mac asked. She glanced at the front of her outfit to see if she was sporting a wet spot.

  “No, tell me whatever it is that has you looking like you’re facing a death squad,” Carly said. She sipped her drink and looked at Mac through half-lidded eyes.

  Mac knew there was no point in lying. As soon as Carly heard the news, she was going to freak out.

  “Since I’m going stag to Emma’s wedding, she just asked me if I’d mind being paired up with Gavin for the festivities,” Mac said.