“Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod!” I seized the dog’s collar and yanked with all my might. When he lifted his head to give me a huge doggy grin, I heard it: delighted, high-pitched giggling.
“I’ve got you.” I knelt down and wrapped my arms around the little girl, hauling her out of licking range. “I’ve got you.”
“Daddy!” the little girl shrieked, directly into my ear. “Daddeee!”
I scanned the ice for her father, hoping he wasn’t the litigious type.
“Is this your dog?” demanded a tall, square-jawed man, jabbing his finger at Cash.
“Yes, he is, and I am so, so sorry. I know this looks bad, but I promise you, he loves kids. He just gets a little—”
“Where did you get him?” the man interrupted.
I shifted my hold on the little girl. “The pound. But he’s had all his shots, and I swear to God—”
“When did you get him?”
I paused. “A few weeks ago, I guess.”
“Which pound? Do you remember what day it was?”
I held out his daughter. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Look, Daddy!” The little girl bounced in her father’s arms. “It’s Humphrey!”
“Actually, his name is Cash, sweetie. He’s a very friendly dog; too friendly, in fact.”
“Nope!” she crowed. “It’s Humphrey. We founded him, Daddy. We founded him!”
“Hey, boy, come here.” The man flashed a quick hand signal and Cash struggled to his feet and marched right over.
“Traitor,” I hissed at him.
As the child threw her arms around Cash’s neck, her father straightened up to address me. “This is incredible. Do you have any idea how long we’ve been looking for this dog?”
“There must be some mistake.” I laughed weakly. “This is my dog. I adopted him from the county shelter; they said he was dumped there by some lowlife who didn’t even bother to pay the twenty-dollar surrender fee.”
“Humphrey!” Pigtails kissed Cash right on the mouth.
The man glanced at her, then motioned me aside. “Yeah. The lowlife? That would be my ex-wife. I had to go to London on business for a few weeks and my daughter couldn’t bear to put Humphrey in a kennel, so my ex agreed to take care of him. When I came back, the dog was gone. She claimed he had run away.” The little muscle in his jaw twitched. “She never was much of an animal lover, but I had no idea she was capable of—”
“Whoa. Let’s just slow down a second.” I grabbed Cash’s leash and gripped it with both hands. “We’re not even sure if this is really the dog you lost. Maybe he just looks like your dog. Shelters are chock-full of big, black, shaggy dogs; how do you know—”
He dropped to one knee and held up his palm. “Give me five, Humphrey.”
Cash immediately jerked up his paw and made contact.
I crossed my arms. “Lots of dogs know how to shake. That doesn’t prove anything.”
The man spun around, turning his back to the dog and holding his hand low against his hip. “On the flip side.”
Cash smacked paw into palm again.
I muttered an obscenity under my breath. The dog’s tail was going a mile a minute, and both he and the little girl were making happy yelping sounds.
“After all I’ve done for you,” I said to Cash. “This is how you repay me?”
The man pulled out his wallet and handed me his business card. “Thank you so much for saving him. This is a miracle.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Not so fast. Legally, this dog belongs to me. I’ve got his license, his vaccination record, and a shredded leather couch to prove it. How do I know your ex-wife sob story holds water? How do I know you didn’t dump him there yourself?”
He tapped his business card. “You can call my assistant. She’ll verify that I was out of town on the dates the alleged dumping occurred.”
I scanned the business card, which announced that he was a corporate consultant named Will Montrose.
“I can also provide vet records, his original rabies license registration, obedience school certificates, and multiple photos of the dog with members of my family.”
“But…I got him microchipped,” I floundered. “He’s registered under my name. And besides, I love him.”
“I can imagine.” Will’s voice softened. “We love him, too. Especially Isabel.”
“I do love you, Humphrey!” Isabel squealed. “I missed you!”
Cash, aka Humphrey, aka Ungrateful Turncoat, had obviously missed Isabel, too. And the noble thing to do would be to relinquish him to his original preschool-age owner and her doting father. But…
“But I hung a stocking for him and everything,” I said. “With his name embroidered on it. Cheesy, yes, but still. We were going to do Christmas morning together. Just the two of us.”
That’s when Will Montrose glanced at my left hand. He was subtle—I almost missed it—but suddenly I realized that he was kind of cute, in a dark, rugged, dog-napping kind of way.
“You got him a stocking?” His smile had a dimple on the right side.
“Yeah.” I burrowed the bottom half of my face into my scarf. “I was going to put a bone and some organic T-R-E-A-T-S in there.”
“So you two have bonded, huh?”
“Look, I know I sound incredibly selfish, not wanting to give a four-year-old her dog back.” I kept an eye on the little girl, who was attempting to throw one leg over Cash’s back while demanding a “pony ride,” but Cash didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he was loving the attention. “But I’ve never had a dog before. I kind of got attached.”
“And he got attached to you.” Will thought for a moment, then asked, “Are you new in town? I haven’t seen you around.”
“I moved out here from New York to get married and, well, that didn’t really work out.”
“Kids?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Just the four-legged kind.”
“It’s tough to be single again in a small town like this. I have primary custody of Izzy, so between that and work I don’t get out much, but if you ever want to—”
“Daddy!” Izzy tugged her father’s coat sleeve. “Humphrey wants to go home now.”
I looked at Will. Will looked at me.
“Go ahead,” I said slowly. “She’s a little kid. Kids need their dogs.”
“No, you bailed him out of the shelter.” He shoved his hands into his coat pockets. “And you obviously love him.”
“But so do you,” I protested. “You taught him to shake on the flip side, for God’s sake.”
“There’s only one solution. Joint custody.”
“That’s not gonna work,” I scoffed.
“Sure it will. We can alternate weeks or—”
“Actually, I’m going to be starting night classes soon, so it’d be nice for him to have someplace to go while I’m at school.” I was warming up to this idea.
“Absolutely. We can work something out. In the meantime, just give me your number…”
My flirting reflexes, dormant for the last year, snapped back into action. “I like how you just slid that in. Very smooth.”
“What?” He tried to look innocent. “I need your number so we can negotiate terms.”
“Tell you what. I’ll give you my number if you let me keep the dog tonight.” This guy was cute. And he liked kids. If I could just casually work the vasectomy question into the conversation, I’d be all set.
“How can I refuse? You bought him a stocking and everything. Izzy, honey, we’re going to let this nice lady—”
“Stella,” I supplied.
“Stella’s going to take care of the dog tonight while you’re at your mom’s. And then tomorrow morning, when I come to drive you back to our house, we’ll pick him up and he can open presents with you.”
“And after presents, we watch the Grinch, right?” Izzy prompted.
“Right.” Will turned to me. “Annual father-daughter tradition.”
“And
after the Grinch, we go to Thelma’s, right?”
“Right,” he told her. To me he said, “It’s a greasy spoon diner by Pittsfield. The only place open on Christmas Day. Another annual tradition. I tried to do the whole turkey dinner one year, and the only one of us who could eat the result was the dog.”
I laughed and recounted the tale of Cash’s Thanksgiving dinner at my house.
“Classic Humphrey. Someday I’ll have to tell you about what he did to our sofa.”
“So what do you suggest we do about his name?” I asked Will as he sat down to unlace Izzy’s skates.
“His name is Humphrey,” Isabel informed me loftily.
“I don’t know.” I wrinkled my forehead. “The tag on his collar says Cash.”
“Humphrey!” She giggled.
“Cash!” I pretended to pinch her toe.
“Ladies!” Will waded into the fray. “We’ll settle this another day. Christmas is no time for a fistfight.”
“We’ll fight later,” I whispered to Izzy. She kicked her feet while her father tried to cram them into pink boots.
“All right, Cash and I are heading home.” I found a pen in my purse and scribbled my phone number on the back of a post office receipt. “Call me and I’ll give you directions. See you tomorrow morning.”
“Are you coming to Thelma’s with us?” Izzy asked.
“Oh, sweetie, no, that’s your special time with your dad.”
“You could come,” Will said quickly. “The more the merrier, right? But you probably have plans.”
“Not really,” I lied. Casey would understand. She knew all about the irresistible lure of stray dogs and hot guys.
“We get pie,” Izzy offered as an enticement.
“Hmm.” I mulled this over. “I do like pie.”
“Then it’s settled.” Will gave Cash a farewell ear scratch. “See you tomorrow.”
“Bye!” Izzy called as I tugged Cash toward the parking lot. “Hope you get lots of presents!”
“Me, too!” I called back, still checking out Izzy’s dad. Who, if I wasn’t mistaken, was still checking out me. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.
“Nice work,” I commended Cash as he hopped into the back of the Jeep. “If you had to have another owner, that was the one to have.”
I climbed into the driver’s seat, cranked up the heat, and turned on the radio. And then we drove off toward the snowcapped blue hills—just a girl, her dog, and the winding road stretching out ahead.
UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL WITH THE AUTHOR
What inspired you to write this book?
Inspiration struck while I was enjoying a night out with a group of recently married girlfriends. These women are all smart, savvy, in their late twenties and early thirties, and they all had the same comment: “Marriage is just different from what I expected.” Better in some ways, worse in some ways, but completely different from the expectations society had built up.
A lot of happy, long-married couples I know say that the first year is the toughest, especially if you didn’t live with your partner beforehand. Most newlyweds aren’t eager to talk about the day-to-day struggle—no one wants to admit they don’t have the perfect relationship or that they’re second-guessing their decision. The great thing about the friendship between the three brides in this book is that they’re honest with one another about how much work it is to keep a marriage strong and how scary it is when you feel frustrated and lonely in a relationship that society tells us is supposed to satisfy our every emotional need.
Why did you decide to set this book during the holiday season?
I see a lot of parallels between surviving the Christmas season and surviving the first year of marriage—there is usually a ton of anxiety and drama roiling right under the surface, but everyone pretends they’re in a perpetual state of good cheer. We put so much pressure on ourselves during the holidays! The shopping, the parties, the family get-togethers, the financial strain…and you’re supposed to feel warm and fuzzy the whole time. Talk about unrealistic expectations!
Stella’s and Erin’s relationship problems go from bad to worse during Thanksgiving becasue they’re forced to deal directly with their in-laws and the reality that their husbands are deeply conflicted. Casey has to grapple with the fact that marrying the “perfect” guy from the “perfect” family doesn’t magically grant her the “perfect” marriage. The disparity between her hopes for a Martha Stewart Thanksgiving and the reality is, well, it’s enough to give anyone second thoughts!
Which aspects of this book are autobiographical? Has your mother-in-law ever tried to kill you?
My poor mother-in-law! She’s a wonderful woman, and no, she’s never tried to kill me, in or out of the kitchen. The character of Renée strutted into my consciousness one fine morning and refused to leave until she’d taken over half the book. Bossy, bossy, bossy! Although Erin and Renée’s story lines is in no way autobiographical, I think it really resonates with readers because in-law “turf-wars” are so common in the early stages of marriage. Every family has a unique and unspoken set of rules, many of which make no sense to a newcomer. My own family has a long, proud tradition of wrapping paper fights on Christmas morning (think wadded-up gift wrap pitched at major-league speeds; my husband nearly lost an eye the first time he got caught in the cross fire) and annual “swamp wars” in the forest behind my grandparents’ farmhouse. With camouflage gear and fireworks. Yeah. Don’t ask.
The only true-to-life incident in this book involved Cash the dog.
Speaking of Cash the dog…Why did you decide to make one of your main characters canine?
Cash becomes a catalyst in all the girls marriages because he takes action in a way that the human characters can’t. Erin is furious with her mother-in-law, but she is far too civilized to do what Cash does to Renée’s bed. Stella may want to throw down with Taylor, but she could never get away with tackling her like Cash does. Dogs are traditionally loyal and persistent, and in my mind, Cash represents the warring loyalties that every bride has to struggle with—her desire to stay true to her independent spirit while still honoring her vows to join her life with her husband’s.
The sad truth is that there are innumerable big, black dogs languishing in animal shelters all over the country—they’re typically the last to be adopted and the first to be euthanized. As the proud owner of three wonderful rescue dogs, I would urge anyone thinking of getting a pet for the holidays to check out local shelters and rescue sites like Petfinder.org. (Okay, total disclosure time: My dogs, although wonderful, are also kind of, ahem, high-spirited; the red pawprint scene at Stella’s house was insprired by one very memorable evening with our lab mix, Friday. Thank God we have tile floors!)
What’s the best piece of marriage advice you ever heard?
“Speak softly and carry a big stick.” No, no, I’m kidding. From a philosophical perspective, the best advice I got was, “Marriage is not fifty-fifty; both people have to contribute one hundred percent.” From a practical perspective, I am a big advocate of separate closets and his and her bathrooms.
Table of Contents
Cover
Praise
ALSO BY BETH KENDRICK
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
1 STELLA
2 ERIN
3 CASEY
4 ERIN
5 STELLA
6 CASEY
7 ERIN
8 STELLA
9 CASEY
10 ERIN
11 STELLA
12 ERIN
13 STELLA
14 CASEY
15 ERIN
16 STELLA
17 CASEY
18 ERIN
19 STELLA
20 CASEY
21 ERIN
22 STELLA
23 CASEY
24 STELLA
25 ERIN
26 CASEY
27 STELLA
28 CASEY
2
9 ERIN
30 CASEY
31 STELLA
UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL WITH THE AUTHOR
Nearlyweds Page 22