You Lucky Dog

by Julia London

  “Jesus,” Max muttered.

  “We’re having Thanksgiving with Will’s family,” Mia said.

  “Mia! Can’t you just once come to my house?” Evelyn asked.

  “We can probably arrange something,” Will said helpfully, and seemed surprised by the dark look he got from his wife.

  “Can we get up now?” Finn asked. His father shook his head. Finn pushed his little brother.

  “No can do,” Trace said. “I’m working.”

  “Really, Trace?” Mia said. “Are you selling a lot of pharmaceuticals on Thanksgiving?” She turned back to her mother. “What about Dad?”

  “What about him?” Evelyn said sternly.

  “He said he and his new girlfriend are going to the coast,” Carly said.

  “Don’t think so,” Trace said to his phone. “He broke up with that chick.”

  Evelyn jerked her gaze to her son. “Excuse me?”

  “It’s okay, Evelyn,” Max’s father said, and patted her arm.

  Evelyn did not look like she thought it was okay. But she pinned her gaze on Carly. “Carly, you’ll be here, won’t you?” she asked. “And you, Max. We all need to bond as a family!”

  Max could almost feel Carly stiffen. “I, umm . . .”

  Evelyn suddenly broke away from Max’s father and marched to where Carly stood. “I know this is hard for you, sweetie. But it’s going to be okay.” She abruptly threw her arms around her daughter and hugged her tight.

  The sudden movement startled Jamie, and he gave a small shriek of alarm, as if he feared he was next.

  The kids laughed. Finn got up and came over to look at Jamie, who was rocking quickly now and flapping one hand. “Dad,” Finn said, “what’s wrong with him?” That question caught the attention of his brother and sister, who hurried over to look.

  “Hey,” Max said, and tried to draw Finn away from Jamie.

  “Jamie!” Evelyn said. “Please don’t be afraid. I’m sorry if I startled you.”

  “Evelyn, don’t—” his father tried, but it was too late. Max didn’t know what Evelyn intended to do, but she moved toward Jamie, and Jamie mistook her intentions. He shrieked and pushed her away. But he was a big guy, and when he pushed her, he sent her tumbling backward.

  That’s when everyone started shouting.

  Twenty-One

  The aftermath of Evelyn Kennedy’s fall was pure chaos. The adults were shouting, the children were crying, Baxter was barking, and Carly’s mother was looking a little dazed. Carly helped Max get an inconsolable Jamie out to his car. The only thing that kept Jamie from curling into a ball was Baxter, who hopped into the seat beside him like they were all going on a big adventure and let Jamie wrap himself around him, happy to help.

  “I’ll come for Baxter later,” Carly said, looking back at her mother’s house.

  “I’m so sorry, Carly,” Max said.

  “Don’t be.” She pressed her hand against his cheek, and then remembered the reality of their situation—not to mention many nosy eyeballs—and jerked it away. “I’ll see you later?”

  He nodded and walked around to the driver’s side.

  Carly hurried back into the house as he drove away. Her mother was sitting on the couch. When Jamie pushed her, she’d fallen backward, landing halfway onto the couch. The couch had prevented her from hitting her head.

  Everyone was gathered around her, and Millie was in her lap, sucking her thumb.

  “Are you all right, Mom?” Carly asked.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” she said. She gave Carly a shaky smile. “I’m more startled than anything.”

  “I’m so sorry, Evie,” Mr. Sheffington said.

  “No, don’t apologize. It was my fault—I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean to scare him, Toby. I hope he’s okay.”

  “He’s fine. It just takes time,” Mr. Sheffington said, wincing slightly.

  Her mother nodded. She swallowed. “All right, the circus is over,” she said, and put Millie down so she could come to her feet. “Let’s get those burgers on. There’s no reason we can’t continue our celebration, is there? We’ll come together as a family at Thanksgiving.”

  No one spoke of the incident again, except for Finn, who asked his father once more, “What was wrong with that guy, Dad?” Will pulled him away to talk about it.

  When the burgers had been eaten, Mia and Will gathered their brood and went home. “So much for my announcement,” Mia said accusingly to her family as Will shepherded the children out the door.

  “I am sure we’ll all be more excited when Mom isn’t blowing up the world with this wedding thing,” Trace said.

  He was the next to leave. “Going to stay downtown, Mom,” he announced.

  “Downtown? Why? You have a perfectly nice and free room here.”

  “Because here is boring. And I haven’t been to Sixth Street in a long time.”

  “Haven’t you outgrown the frat boy party thing by now?” Carly asked.

  “Outgrown having a good time?” He shook his head. “Never.” He punched Carly in the shoulder. “See you, squirt.”

  Carly and her mother watched him go. “What is the matter with him?” her mother asked. “Why won’t he settle down?”

  “Because he’s a bro, Mom.”

  “A what?”

  Carly shook her head. “Might as well face it—Trace is probably going to party until he drops.”

  “Well, girls, I’m going to go check in with my sons,” Mr. Sheffington announced. He had gathered up an enormous bag that looked to be stuffed with cooking gear, judging by the handle of a grill spatula that stuck out the top.

  “I’m sorry, Toby,” Carly’s mother said. “I wish things had gone better.”

  “Growing pains,” he said kindly, and gave her a kiss. Carly’s mother grabbed Mr. Sheffington’s shirt when it looked like he was going to pull away and held on, kissing him harder.

  “Ohmigod,” Carly whispered, and stepped around the couple and went into the living room.

  It was a full five minutes before her mother let Mr. Sheffington go and returned to the living room, too, looking glassy-eyed and sheepish. “Well!” she said. “What do you think?”

  “I think it’s all really fast.”

  “Oh, Carly,” she said with a sigh. “You’re young. Just wait until you’re my age. You’ll move fast, too. I haven’t got all the time in the world.”

  “You’re not even sixty, Mom. You make it sound like you’ve got one foot in the grave.”

  “Come help me clean up,” she said, and walked into the kitchen. “I’m so happy that Toby is such an excellent cook. I never was, you know. I never had the interest or the imagination to be a good cook. That was one of your father’s ongoing complaints, I’m sure you remember. He always said I didn’t take the time to learn to cook better for the family.”

  “Dad has learned to cook pretty well,” Carly said absently.

  “Hmm,” her mother said.

  Carly had to talk to her about something else, and her stomach was churning with it. “So listen, Mom . . .” If there was one thing she’d learned in her life, it was to not ask her mother for anything. There were always consequences for asking. But she was an adult now, which she had to remind herself when her mother looked at her curiously. Megan Monroe said, Don’t take no for an answer just to be good.

  “I need a huge favor.”

  “Oh.” Her mother put down a pot she’d picked up. “I hope it’s not money, sweetie. I have to buy a wedding dress. Your father nickeled-and-dimed me in the divorce—”

  Her father had said she got a lot of money from it. Whatever. “I need to stay in your house for a little while.”

  Her mother blinked.

  “For just a little while, I swear it, until I get back on my feet.”

  “You’re not on
your feet? What do you mean? I thought you loved that little house.”

  “I do, but they are going up on rent, and I lost Gordon Romero—”

  “What? Why?”

  “It was just a bad fit. Mother, listen—Conrad is going up on the rent, and he wants a year lease, and he wants a pet deposit, and right now I can only cover about five months of bare-bones expenses, so unless you can loan me five thousand dollars, I need to find some place to go.”

  “Oh dear,” her mother said, and looked genuinely distressed. “I can’t loan you five thousand dollars.”

  “I didn’t think so.”

  “This is unfortunate timing.”

  Carly actually snorted. Her mother was the one with unfortunate timing. “But you’re going to get married, and you’re going to live with Mr. Sheffington and Jamie, aren’t you?”

  “No, he’s going to live here and Jamie is going to live with his brother.”

  Carly mentally stumbled. “Jamie is going to live with Max?” Why hadn’t Max mentioned it?

  “Toby’s house is small and dated. We’d be much more comfortable here, starting our new life together. Oh dear, the timing is just not good,” she said, her brows furrowing into a frown as she thought about it. “Have you asked your father?”

  “Oh, believe me, Mom, I know all about bad timing. And guess what? Timing isn’t good for Dad, either.” She picked up her bag. “May I have the extra room or not?”

  “Of course, sweetie. Of course.” Her mother smiled and stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Carly. “The timing may be bad, but I am always here for you.” She laughed. “I know it may not always seem that way, but my children are always first and foremost in my mind. If you need to stay here, we will figure it out.” She let Carly go.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “But please, sweetie, not before Toby and I get married. There’s just too much going on right now.”

  “Sure,” she said. She hoisted her bag onto her shoulder. “I’m going to take off now.”

  “Call me later!” her mother trilled.

  Carly walked outside into a fine mist that had started to drench the town. She could feel that the temperature was dropping and remembered the first real cold snap of the season was supposed to arrive later this evening. She got in her car and sat a moment. That burn behind her eyes was there again, but Carly was not going to be defeated in this. She was not. She swiped angrily at the single tear that slid down her cheek and drove to Max’s house.

  * * *

  Max answered the door and opened his arms to Carly. She walked into them and let him wrap his arms around her, holding her tightly as she rested her cheek against his chest. “What a fucking disaster,” he said.

  “The worst.” She lifted her head. “Can I ask a huge favor?”

  “Anything.”

  “Do you have some sweats I could borrow? I can’t wear this stupid ugly dress another minute.”

  He smiled with surprise. “I do. Come on in.”

  Hazel and Baxter were on the couch, of course, one on either side of Jamie. He was leaning forward, watching a dog show competition on TV. “How is he?” she whispered.

  Max shrugged. “I think he’s okay now. He has to be eased into new situations and the kids . . . I think they threw him a little. Come in,” he said, and with his hands on her shoulders, he nudged her in the direction of his room.

  In his room, Max went into his closet and Carly asked, “What does it mean, ‘loyal Dad’?”

  “Jamie?” he asked from somewhere inside. “I can’t say for sure, but I think he’s expressing his uncertainty about Dad’s new arrangement.” Carly could hear him rummaging around until he appeared again, holding a hoodie and some sweatpants.

  “You know how he says, ‘loyal dogs, intelligent and loyal,’ right?”

  She nodded.

  “That’s what he admires about dogs. They’re loyal to you, no matter what. I think he’s trying to tell Dad he wants him to be loyal, too. And I think he feels like Dad isn’t being loyal right now.” He shrugged. “That’s my best guess. Will these do?” he asked, holding up the sweats.

  “Yes. Thank you so much.” She reached for the sweats. “It must be really confusing for him.”

  “It is,” Max said. “I think it will help when his dog is ready and he doesn’t feel as if he’s being abandoned.”

  Carly presented her back to Max to be unzipped. “When is he getting his dog?”

  “The next week or so,” he said. “Hey, I may be way off base here, but you don’t seem as enthusiastic about this piece of wearable art as you have been about others,” Max said.

  “Very astute of you, professor. This dress is hideous. It isn’t art—this is Victor phoning it in. The only reason I put it on today was to try and inspire him because he hadn’t seen it on a model yet. He’s been in the studio, half-heartedly working and trying to understand the universe and looking for clues on Instagram of all places.”

  She quickly changed as Max watched, but the vibe between them was not a sexy one. It was a resigned one. When she’d finished, they stood staring at each other.

  “How is your mom?” he asked.

  “She’s fine. She felt bad about it.”

  Max looked at his feet.

  It felt to Carly a little like her nerves were curling and twisting together in her. She didn’t know what to say and turned away, pushing her hair from her face. She noticed several shirts and jackets laid out on his bed. “What’s this?”

  “Oh . . . I was trying to find something to wear to my presentation Thursday.”

  This was something Carly could do. Something productive, something she could control, something she could help with. She picked several shirts and held them up, discarding those that were definite noes—denim, of course—and those that were acceptable. “I have something to tell you,” she said as she sorted through the clothes.

  “I don’t know if I can take any more good news, but go ahead, lay it on me.”

  “My landlord is going up on the rent. Two hundred a month. And he wants another five hundred for Baxter.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Pet deposit. Right now, I don’t have enough work to keep my house. And until something breaks for me, I think I’m going to have to move out.”

  “Move, like . . . where? Are you okay?”

  She laughed, a little bitterly. “I’m not a pauper yet. But I have to find a job. And this thing with Victor . . . it’s not giving me a lot of confidence that he’s going to be a client I can build. Without clients, I can’t create an effective social media presence, and without social media, I’m pretty much unknown in this line of work. I’m going to have to step back and reassess. So . . . I decided this morning that I definitely can’t sign a lease. There’s just too much uncertainty in my future right now.”

  “This is sounding pretty bleak,” Max said, and sat on the bed.

  “No kidding. So, today, after everything, I asked Mom if I could stay in her house after she got married. I just assumed she’d be living with your dad and Jamie. But she informed me that she and your dad would be living there, and that . . .” She looked at Max as she laid one shirt out at the end of the bed. “Jamie would be living with you.”

  Max stared at her as if she’d just slapped him.

  “You haven’t heard that plan?”

  “No.” He dragged both sets of fingers through his hair and looked away. “Was he even going to talk to me about it?”

  “Before you say anything to your dad, it’s entirely possible my mom is doing some wishful thinking.” Carly walked into his closet and began to go through his pants. “She does that, you know—she just says what she wants to be true like that will make it true.”

  “Maybe so, but it’s clear that something has to happen with Jamie. I don’t know if he can live with your mot
her and my dad without making it difficult.”

  Carly came out of the closet with a pair of slim brown chinos. She added them to the shirt at the end of the bed. And then she added a sport coat. “There. Wear this to your presentation.”

  Max looked at the bed. And then at her. “Carly,” he murmured.

  She glanced down, trying to keep the heartburn in her eyes and chest from turning to actual tears. “I cannot believe we are being cockblocked by our parents.”

  Max stood up. They stared at each other across the bed. As if they both wanted to speak. As if they both wanted the other to fix it. As if they had no idea what to say to any of this.

  They stood there until Jamie laughed at something in the living room.

  Max looked at the closed door, and then at her, and Carly felt everything in her well up to a sudden burst of despair. The tears fell before she could stop them.

  “Oh, baby,” he said, and walked around the bed to fold her into his embrace.

  “I’m so sorry, Max. My love chemicals are all out of whack. You know what’s worse than being cockblocked by your mother? The worst thing is to meet the right person at the wrong time.”

  He cupped her head against his chest.

  “How are we going to make this work?” she asked tearfully. “Even if we could get over the weird stepbrother-stepsister thing, there is Jamie, and me living with my mother and your dad, and, my God, that just sounds worse every time I say it.” More tears leaked from her, and she hiccupped with a sob she tried to suppress. “I can’t cry,” she moaned. “I am such an ugly crier.”

  “You’re always beautiful.”

  “Nope. You haven’t seen me full-on cry. I look like one of those horrible creatures they find on the bottom of the ocean.”

  Max sputtered a laugh.

  “This is going to sound crazy, Max, but . . .” She rubbed her hand under her nose and looked up. “I’ve never met anyone like you. And I don’t think I ever will again. I just . . . I just want to be happy. I want to be with you, and I don’t know if we can and I’m breaking inside.” She choked on another sob and let her head fall forward against his chest.