4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

According to Geena, the kids have a four hundred-and-seventy-day streak of asking for a puppy. They even include the request in their nightly prayers, leave drawings of dogs hidden all over the house, and pretend to feed and walk an invisible dog, all to prove they'll help.

They get an A for effort!

Shortly after I told Avery and Aiden we could no longer eat ice cream for breakfast, I'm able to maintain my best uncle in the world status, when I come across a dog.

Well, I kind of steal it, but the animal had been yelping all morning while Geena took the twins for their six-month dental checkups. Not going to lie, I'm grateful she spared me from having to answer questions about whether they eat a lot of sweets.

Yeah, on my watch, they do. But I'm learning...and trying.

I give my sister, brother-in-law, and all parents major credit. The energy required to keep up with the twins and bend my mind around their inquiries is as hilarious as it is exhausting. Just today, I fielded questions about everything from why Aiden can't start driving when he's big enough to reach the pedals to why Avery can't put glitter on her spaghetti since the container looks a lot like the Parmesan cheese shaker.

Having slept in more uncomfortable places than my sister's couch, I'm grateful for her hospitality, but I'm moving into my summer sublet this afternoon. It'll be nice to have my own place and not wake up with a pinch in my lower back because I fell asleep on a Lego.

I'd hoped the morning would give me free time to catch up on sleep, but the twins woke me up while practicing the National Anthem as part of their summer "homework."

That's when they left for the dentist, I figured I'd check out my new digs. Then head to a coffee shop to follow up on some options for what I'm going to do when the summer is over and the kids are back in school when the barking started and would not cease. I could no longer take it, so like the stealth Green Beret that I am, I tracked down the source and liberated the American Bulldog.

I expected to find it chained up in a dirt patch next to a spare tire and some yard waste, but it was standing on its hind legs, paws perched on the windowsill of a fairytale cottage, er, bungalow across the street from PS Chopper Repair and Customs.

Man, if these streets could talk. I got the dog to stop barking by pushing the window up the rest of the way, grabbing the leash from the porch, and bringing it on a walk.

When I'd reached the corner of Calle del Trueno, a minivan sped by and screeched to an abrupt stop. The children piled out, shouting with glee while Geena stared me down.

I explained the situation to my sister, and it looks like I'll have to repeat it as a different woman runs toward me on the beach, hollering at the top of her lungs.

She skids to a stop and the twins freeze as the dog bounds her way, knocking her into the sand with its big paws and even bigger slobbery kisses.

"Tugger, what are you doing out here?" Katy, wearing her fitted pink T-shirt with sparkles, glares at me with accusation burning in her eyes. "Why do you have my dog?"

Stance wide, I fit my arms in front of my chest. "Prove he's your dog."

She tilts her head as if that's a stupid question while he continues to shower her with love. Talking in an approximation of a baby voice, she repeats, "Who's the goodest boy? You're the goodest boy. Tugger is the goodest of goodest boys."

I'm convinced aliens snatched her and swapped out her brain for someone who shows the slightest bit of affection. I'm not sure whether to laugh or be concerned.

Katy sits up. "Technically, Tugger is my brother's dog, but I'm looking after him while he's out of town...for several months now," she mutters the last part.

Tugger rushes toward the children who play ball with him by the water's edge.

Given the barking situation earlier, I say, "You're not doing a very good job looking after him."

"I didn't realize I would have to install a burglary protection system to keep thieves from stealing him."

"I didn't steal him."

"Sure looks like it." She flips her hand in our general vicinity.

"Is that bungalow your house on Calle del Trueno?"

"Yeah, why?"

Taken aback, I say, "It's so girly. A beachy fairytale cottage at odds with your general—" I stop myself before I say something that might be misconstrued as a suggestion that she's cute, pretty, or beautiful. Which she is, all of the above. But I imagine Katy would scratch my eyes out if I so much as suggested that she's anything other than tough, strong, and independent.

She circles her foot in the sand, suddenly, strangely bashful. "Girly? Well, I am a girl."

"A woman." My voice is gravelly because I cannot deny what I see and how much I like it.

She brightens but quickly looks away.

Perhaps Katy does want to be seen in a new and different light than the one she fought for tooth and nail when we were younger.

Her expression puckers as if remembering our dynamic—the one that's like a stick of dynamite with a rapidly burning fuse. "Tease me all you want. I don't care. I like the beach and I enjoy gardening. No sense in my property looking like it's occupied by moles, gophers, and reprobates."

I remind myself that I'm leaving again, so it's best to keep her at a distance. "I figured you'd dwell in an underground lair."

Katy rolls her eyes at me. "I'll have you know my roses won third prize in the Palisade Shores Garden Club contest last year."

"Figures you'd grow something with thorns."

"Are you saying I'm prickly?"

Before I get poked in the eye, I shift gears slightly. "I'm saying Tugger had been barking for two hours straight. The window was partially open, so I took him for a walk. The kids saw us and fell in love."

Katy's eyes dip toward mine and then she fixes her attention on the dog, Aiden, and Avery.

I add, "We stopped at Tail Waggin' and got him some water and, um, a few treats."

"He likes the peanut butter carrot cake balls."

"The owner had a dozen ready for us. Thought we were there to pick up your standing order."

As if affronted by my knowing her soft spot, she harrumphs. "Everyone deserves a treat now and then."

I grunt, forcing myself to remain at an emotional arm's length. "Then we came here."

"I could press charges."

"For watering, feeding, and playing with your dog? I could get you on a count of animal cruelty."

"Obviously, I don't mistreat Tugger what with the aforementioned standing treat order."

"Who was the woman on your porch?" I ask, arms folded in front of my chest.

She scowls. "Joey's girlfriend Delilah was supposed to let Tugger out while I was at work."

"Did Joey dye his hair black and lose a few inches of height while I've been gone?" I hold my hand up at about five and a half feet.

"No, what are you talking about?"

"While I was scoping out the situation, a woman with bottle blonde hair opened the window slightly and then got in a sports car with the words Move Over written across the top of the windshield. Before she closed the door, she kissed the driver." I repeat my brief description of the loser.

"Maybe the guy is Delilah's brother," she says vaguely.

I try to displace the way Katy's husky voice is the one that reminded me to be tough and make it through firefights and dangerous situations. The same one that was like a lullaby guiding me into dreamless sleep on nights when I wasn't sure I'd wake up to see the next day.

"You don't kiss a relative like that," I mutter. "And if you're going to watch someone's dog, you at least let it out to go to the bathroom."

Katy's expression turns stormy. "Wait a second. That's the guy who honks his car horn and meows at me every morning when I walk to work."

The muscles in my shoulders stiffen and I grit my teeth. "He meows at you?"

"Aggressively. It's weird but no big deal." Katy has a thick skin and brushes it off.

But I don't. "I might make it a big deal."

"Joey might too, considering it looks like Delilah is cheating on him and neglecting Tugger."

" Move Over is moving out of town."

"Rocco, stay out of it," Katy warns.

My blood boils with defiance.

Then with sadness hiding in her tough expression, she adds, "You're good at that."

My entire body burns with regret.