by Jared, Jenna
A pang sluiced through her. She turned to look at Zack. "You don't suppose anyone will find Ellie while we're away?"
"Maybe. But I've talked to every shelter in the state, Carrie. If she's found, she'll be okay. They'll take care of her until we get back." He put his hand on her knee.
"It's been five months, Zack. Ever since that day she bit Mike." She rubbed the bright gold band shining on his ring finger. My husband. She smiled, despite her sadness, and lifted his hand to her lips. "We should have taken Ellie home with us instead of letting one of your officers lock her in a bedroom. I knew better. I knew she could get out—and with the glass on the front door broken, there really wasn't anything to keep her in once she opened that bedroom door."
"I've never known a dog who could open a doorknob before," Zack said.
"I've never known a dog who could talk."
He gave her a sidelong grin, clearly not believing her. Carrie gave his shoulder a gentle whack.
"She could! Not well, but… I know. It sounds crazy. But sometimes, she almost sounded like Nana." Carrie sighed. "I guess I was just missing my grandmother, and Ellie was my last living link to her. That, and she had the same eyes."
"The same…eyes." He snorted. "Ooookay, Carrie-da. Whatever you say."
Carrie stuck her tongue out at him; he laughed again and reached out, pulling her to sit on the bench seat beside him. She rested her head on his shoulder. "I still wonder why her lawyer had no idea she existed. I mean, someone had to take her to the kennel."
"Maybe Nana did, the day she went skydiving."
"Maybe. But why? She was jumping out of an airfield in Connecticut, Zack. Less than forty minutes away. And she certainly didn't expect…" To die. She shook her head. "The other thing is—how did the woman from the kennel know my cell number?"
"Emergency contact number. She couldn't reach Nana, so she called you." Zack shrugged.
"What about the lawyer?"
"Maybe your grandmother didn't consider Ellie an asset."
"No doubt. Who would?" Me, Carrie realized. "You know, Zack, if it wasn't for Ellie, you and I probably would never have talked to each other. I would have come home and then gone back to Texas."
Zack sobered. "You're right. And if she hadn't gone to your grandmother's grave that night, then I wouldn't have had gone to your house. Where, you'll remember, I kissed you."
"And I pushed you out on your ass." Carrie giggled, then reached up to kiss his cheek. Then she settled her head back onto his shoulder. "And—if Ellie hadn't swallowed my phone, Sam wouldn't have gotten the idea to come to my house and make me come over for zucchini—"
"Okay. Ellie was an asset." Zack laughed.
"Even though she practically wiped out my entire life savings. Not that there was much to begin with, but…" She smiled. Not much was an overstatement. "I have a feeling that if we hadn't managed to talk to one another, Ellie would have continued to destroy the neighborhood until I had no money left and had to stay."
"Lucky for us."
Carrie nodded and looked out the window. She recognized where she was now. Heavenly Doggie Kennels was in the next strip mall…except…
It wasn't there.
Instead of the white brick building that had been there before, there stood a decrepit old building with Keep Out signs posted on it.
She sat up. "Zack! Stop the truck."
He pulled to the curb. "What's wrong?"
Carrie looked around, frantic. There had to be an explanation. Except—there was the drugstore across the street. She got out of the truck and hurried to the place where she could have sworn Dog Lady had stood, holding Ellie on her knotted pink leash. Yes! There. Right there. Carrie had a weird sense of disorientation, a memory of a place that wasn't a place. She stood where she'd stood, and everything was different, yet the same.
Zack came to stand beside her. "You look like you've seen a ghost. What's wrong? Are you okay? Are you going to be sick? What's the matter?" He put a protective hand on the small of her back.
She turned to look up at him. "This is…this is where Heavenly Doggie Kennels was."
He shook his head. "Carrie-da, I make it my business to know all the kennels in my jurisdiction. I like to make sure they're up to code, that they're safe for the animals…"
A hero, even to his canine charges. Carrie nodded. Thank God. She'd made a mistake. "So you know where it is."
"No, Carrie-da. I—there is no Heavenly Doggie Kennel."
She had the strange sensation of the ground beneath her feet tilting and swaying like the deck of a ship's in a storm. No, wait a minute. Impossible.
Her husband reached out, grasped her and pulled her close. She leaned into him, clinging so she didn't collapse. "But I saw it, Zack! I saw the sign with the pink poodle on it. The dog had wings, for Pete's sake, and it was floating on a cloud. I remember thinking how ludicrous it was."
They stood there, staring at the building. Zack shook his head. "Well…Heavenly Doggie and their sign aren’t there now," he said, finally.
And then, Carrie saw something that made her forget about the sign and the kennel. Perched on the top of the knee-high grass as if placed there, she saw Ellie's collar, complete with bone-shaped identity tag. "Zack. Look!" She grabbed it, lifting it up, not sure if she felt hopeful, happy or…something else. "Ellie," she murmured, overwhelmed with a sharp sense of loss.
And yet, she realized, she'd gained. So much. She turned to her husband, standing there with a look on his face that told her no matter what, I'm here for you. Not alone. Not anymore. "It's Ellie's. Look!"
He reached for it, took it, looked at the tag; a frown crossed his brow. "Carrie…it says…" He blinked, shook his head, read it again. "When did you buy this tag?"
"The second day after I got her. The day she wiped out my savings and most of Nana's, too. I remember how sorry I was that I'd gotten it, because everyone could track me down and get money out of me."
"But…" He handed it out to her. "How did you know that…well…here."
Carrie took the collar from him and read the tag. "Carrie Kennedy Mahoney. Narragansett, Rhode Island." Her heart did a funny bump in her chest. "But I didn't have it engraved like this," she said. "I just had my name. Kennedy. And my cell phone number." She turned the bone over—and what she saw made her gasp. "Zack!"
He moved to her side, and together, they read and reread the tag. "With love and joy, Nana. P.S. Name your next daughter Eleanor, after me."
Finally, when the words had grown too blurry to read because of the tears streaming down her cheeks, Carrie stopped reading the tag and looked up at her husband. "Zack?"
He shook his head. Then bent to kiss her. "Some things, Carrie-da, aren't meant to be questioned. They're just meant to be."
"But…" she started, but her husband silenced her with his kiss. And she realized, as her love for him made her heart swell and her pulse race, he was right. She broke away. "Let's go start working on that daughter Nana promised us."
Zack grinned. Together they walked, arms around one another's waists, just like they had when they were kids. To the truck. To their honeymoon. To the rest of their lives.
THE END