You Lucky Dog

by Julia London

“Well, that’s my news—I’m being put forward for tenure.”

  Her mouth fell open.

  “Yep,” he said with a sorrowful smile. “It’s me. They picked me.”

  “Max,” she whispered.

  “I know, right?”

  She suddenly threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him, then cupped his face. “I am so proud of you.”

  “And I am so proud of you,” he said.

  Her hands slid away from his face. “Oh my God, we are so snakebitten.”

  He stroked her hair. “We’re definitely something. We are—shit, I have to take Jamie to get his dog,” he said, noticing the clock on the mantel behind her. “Can I call you later?”

  “Sure,” she said.

  He stood up and took a jacket from the back of the couch. “When do you start your new job?”

  Her face flushed. “In a week.”

  He dropped his arm. His heart began to crumble. “A week?”

  “I don’t have income,” she said quietly. “I need to start work. So I’m going back Monday to look for a place to live.”

  “Jesus,” he said helplessly. “So soon? What about Baxter?”

  “I’m going to ask Mia to keep him until Mom and your dad have settled—”

  “No,” Max said, and pulled on his jacket before holding out a hand to pull her to her feet. “I’ll keep him.”

  “I can’t ask you to do that, Max.”

  “You’re not asking—I’m demanding. I love that dog. Besides, it will give me an excuse to talk to you whenever I want.” He kissed her. But only briefly. He was feeling a little sick.

  “I want to bring him to New York,” Carly said. “I love him, too, and I hate being without him—”

  “Loyal and obedient. Lab.”

  They both turned as Jamie entered the room. He’d removed his apron. “His name is Duke.”

  “I can’t wait to meet him,” Carly said. “Baxter, come.”

  The dog came forward, his tail wagging with anticipation, happy to be called.

  “He’s missed you,” Max said. “We’ve all missed you.”

  “Loyal and obedient. Duke,” Jamie said.

  “Carly, I have to go,” Max said. “Can we talk later?”

  “Sure. Yes. I just . . .” She dragged her fingers through her hair. “My love to all the dogs, okay? Send me a picture, will you?”

  “His name is Duke,” Jamie said. “He’s good with dogs.” He walked out of the house before them. Baxter ran behind him, and Max tossed Hazel a biscuit as he followed Carly and Jamie out.

  Carly put Baxter into her car, then waved at Max before slipping into the driver’s seat. Max waved back. But even from that distance, he could see the look in her eye. She knew. Just like he knew. This thing between them, this beautiful, unexpected, wonderful thing, could not overcome the forces in their lives. It couldn’t knock them off the roads they’d labored to pave for themselves.

  “Loyal and obedient,” Jamie said.

  “That’s right,” Max said. “His name is Duke.”

  * * *

  Duke’s arrival in his new home was not without incident. He was overexcited and couldn’t stop jumping and drooling on everything. Hazel took exception for some reason, and there was an immediate issue over who would be the alpha and who would not. Duke, a happy Lab, quickly acquiesced, but the first day was tense.

  Jamie was beside himself with joy. He’d bought Duke a neon green collar, and because Duke was a black Lab, at night, when the lights were off, it looked a little like a disembodied collar moving around the house.

  Max tried more than once to FaceTime his dad so that he could see Duke and be here for Jamie’s big day. But he couldn’t get the old man on the phone. He assumed that his father was honeymooning.

  He texted Carly, but she said that her sister was having trouble, sick with her pregnancy and no one to watch the kids. Plus, they were worried that they couldn’t get ahold of either parent.

  It felt as if everything was moving so fast. The weekend had rushed past before Max could catch a breath. Carly arrived Sunday night to meet Duke and to drop Baxter off again. Baxter raced into the house toward Hazel, but Duke hadn’t seen him coming and was startled. A lot of barking and shouting ensued, Jamie shrieking that Duke was loyal and obedient. Duke hadn’t gotten the memo.

  When they got the dogs calmed down, Carly asked Max once more if he was certain he was okay keeping her dog.

  “I’m certain. Baxter is part of the family.”

  Carly couldn’t stay. She had to pack and then go check on her parents’ houses, as Mia was still feeling ill and they still hadn’t heard a word. “My family,” she said with a shake of her head.

  “Are you worried?”

  “Nope. I know where Mom is, and my guess is Dad is back with his very young girlfriend. What about your dad?”

  He shook his head. “I have no doubt he’s living his best life right now.”

  Carly nodded, but she was looking over her shoulder at her car. Max took the opportunity to impress this image of her on his hippocampus. He wanted to remember every freckle, every loose strand of hair. He didn’t want to forget her like this, wrapped in a wool coat, the tip of her nose pink from the cool air, her lashes long, her hair silky on her shoulder.

  When she turned back to him she said, “I guess I better go.”

  “So this is it?”

  “No,” she said. “But sort of. And if you make a thing out of it, I will cry.”

  “I will join you,” he said, and wrapped his arms around her.

  “I’m so sorry, Max,” she said into his coat.

  “Don’t be. The worst thing would be for you to give up this opportunity and then one day wake up and resent the hell out of the fact that you stayed.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “I wish it was different. I so wish it was different.”

  “Me, too,” he said sadly. “Carly, I—”

  “Nope. No,” she said, and lifted her head from his chest. “I am not going to do whatever you are about to do.”

  He stroked her cheek. “I wasn’t going to do anything. You deserve this shot, and I wish you—”

  “Yep, okay, enough of that.” She pushed out of his embrace, her eyes glistening. She popped up, kissed him on the cheek. “Bye, Baxter!” she shouted over his shoulder, and then fled to her car. “I’ll call you! Remember, dogs don’t belong on the couch!”

  He lifted his hand and waved. He was not offended by her abrupt departure. He completely understood—neither of them wanted to say goodbye, because when they did, they both knew that would be the end.

  Twenty-Five

  If Max had been a betting man, he would have lost, because the end came faster than he ever would have guessed. Not him and Carly, although that end came much faster than he wanted. But twelve days after his father eloped to Las Vegas, it was over. Just long enough for Jamie and Duke to move in with Max. Just long enough for Jamie to create a new painting of three dogs, with two men in the background who were not Jamie and his father, but Jamie and his brother.

  Just long enough that Max managed to take a day off from work to take Jamie around to check out some group homes. One of them was next to a park and on a bus line, and would accept Jamie’s “service” dog. The home was expensive, but Max thought that he and his dad could make it work.

  On a crisp and cool Thursday afternoon, Max was finishing up his last class when he got a call from Jamie. When he answered, Jamie shrieked, “Too much noise!”

  Max couldn’t get Jamie to say more. In the background, he could hear Duke barking. He dropped Bonnie at the lab and then he ran. He thought his father had died. He thought there had been a heart attack or a stroke, and he raced to his car, his arms pumping and his legs churning.

  But when he got to his father’s house, he foun
d his father very much alive and on his feet. Jamie had been with Max the last week while his father slowly packed and got ready to move to Evelyn’s. He was busily gathering things that clearly belonged to Evelyn—quite a lot, Max thought, in such a short time—and piling them on the kitchen table.

  “What’s going on?” Max asked.

  His father paused in his almost maniacal gathering. “I’m only going to say this once, Tobias Maxwell. You were right—it was all too fast. I didn’t know her well enough. Fuck that—I didn’t know her at all. But it’s done, and I never want to lay eyes on the woman again. Never. I don’t care if she drops dead tomorrow, I won’t be at her funeral.”

  “Whoa,” Max said, holding up both hands. “What happened?”

  “Don’t ask,” his father said, and tossed a bra onto the pile. “Just get her shit out of here.” He jerked around to where Jamie was rocking back and forth. “Jamie, stop the caterwauling! You saw a heated argument, so what!” And with that he stomped down the hall. They heard the door to his room slam shut.

  Max looked at Jamie. He was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling. “Too much noise,” he insisted again.

  “I know, buddy.” Max glanced at Duke, who was supposed to be soothing Jamie. But Duke was on his belly on the tile floor, his head between his paws, as if it were a lazy summer afternoon.

  His dad returned a moment later, marching down the hall and unceremoniously dumping clothing onto a pile at the back door. “Take those things to her and get my things, Max. If I see her, I’m telling you, I may kill her.”

  “You just married her, so maybe take the murder talk down a notch or two.”

  “I’ll get it annulled and then I’ll kill her.” He turned again, and they listened to him mutter under his breath all the way down the hall. And then his door slammed shut.

  Max found a couple of grocery bags, stuffed Evelyn’s things into them, told Jamie to work on his painting and take care of his dog, and that everything was okay. No more noise.

  When he pulled into Evelyn’s drive twenty minutes later, he instantly knew that the neatly stacked boxes on the porch were his father’s things. From what he could see, there was the handle of a skillet poking out the top of one and a sunhat he recognized. Max thought he’d place his two bags of her things on the porch, grab his dad’s stuff, and make a quick getaway. But the moment he put the bags on the porch and picked up the first box, Evelyn came striding out in a silk caftan that flowed around her.

  “Hello, Max,” she said.

  “Evelyn.” He took the box to his car.

  She folded her arms and watched him come back for the next one. “Did he tell you what happened?”

  Max grimaced. The last thing he wanted was to get dragged into the middle of this. He shook his head.

  “Well, I’m sorry. I owe you all an apology and you have it. My sincerest apologies. But I couldn’t have predicted what happened. I thought I knew—”

  A man suddenly appeared behind Evelyn. He stepped around her and came off the porch. “You must be Max.” He offered his hand.

  Max stared at him, trying to work out who he was, ignoring his hand.

  The man dropped his hand. “I’m Paul Kennedy.”

  Carly’s dad? What the hell was happening right now?

  “We sincerely apologize for—”

  “Don’t apologize for true love, Paul,” Evelyn interrupted. “That’s what we always had and we still do. We just lost our way a little bit.” This, she directed at Max.

  “I don’t . . . understand,” Max said.

  “I’m sorry, Son,” Mr. Kennedy said. “Evelyn and I have been dancing around this thing.”

  “This thing?” Max said angrily. “My dad hasn’t been dancing around. How long has this been a thing?”

  “Forty years is all,” Evelyn said defensively.

  “Great. You’ve been dancing around this thing, but you got us all in the middle of it, and you took my dad on this roller coaster and married him,” Max reminded her.

  “I know, and I feel very bad about that,” she said quickly. “Unfortunately, that’s what it took for Paul and me to realize that what we were doing was crazy—”

  “I tried to stop them,” Carly’s father said. “I wasn’t able to, and then things got messy, and, well, the bottom line is, here we are. Evelyn and I are back together and committed to resolving our issues.”

  Max stared at them, both of them looking back with such sheepish expressions. “You are standing on the ruins of two families,” he said. “I hope you can live with that.” He picked up the last box and walked to his car. He didn’t look back. He drove to the strip mall with the Target and parked in the lot. He closed his eyes for a long moment. His poor dad. And, sheesh, poor Carly with parents like that.

  Carly.

  He texted her for the first time in days. He’d intentionally tried to stay away, to make a clean break. But this, she needed to know.

  Hi, Carly. Checking in to see if you’re okay. I guess you heard?

  Max! So happy it’s you! Heard what?

  She didn’t know. Max dialed her number.

  Twenty-Six

  Carly had managed to shove her suitcase onto the one shelf she had in her tiny little closet. Now rose the question of what to do with her handbags. She was studying her dire situation when her phone rang. She backed away from the closet, huffing with the exertion of unpacking, blew her hair out of her face, and glanced down. “Max!” she said with delight and answered the phone. “Hey!” She bounced onto her bed.

  “Hi, Carly.”

  They had texted sporadically since Carly had taken the job in New York. Sporadically, because even though they hadn’t declared it so, she thought they were both trying to ease out of what could never be. But this thing between them was hard to end—there was true affection there. True love. Carly was clinging to a fantasy that he might actually come to New York. She’d created the whole thing in her head—they would be away from her crazy family. He would visit Jamie every month. Baxter and Hazel would learn to potty on the patches of green around the trees in the sidewalks, and they would walk them through parks, and order in, and go out, and host supper parties with fabulous friends.

  “How are you?” he asked.

  “I am . . .” She had to stop and think about it. Life begins at the end of your comfort zone! Megan Monroe had shouted on her podcast yesterday. “I’m good, I think. I’m discovering New York.” She was discovering a shabby corner of New Jersey, actually. She was not living with Naomi—it was too small for four women, and Naomi said no dogs and Carly really wanted Baxter. Funny how that dog had worked its way into her membrane. Hazel, too, for that matter.

  “Did you get moved in?” he asked.

  “Today, actually. I went with the one in New Jersey. You know, the one with only the hour commute.” She laughed. “It’s actually not horrible.”

  “Oh, well, then, not horrible,” he said with a chuckle. “What’s the place like?”

  She looked around at the space. A tiny sink and an electric cooktop stove were two feet from her bed. Her bed—purchased at one of the big-box discount furniture places—left hardly any room for anything else other than a chair. There was a small space in the corner where she hoped she could stuff a dog bed. “It is teeny tiny,” she said. “I have a view of an air-conditioning thing and the bathroom has a shower and sink all in one, and I have a major closet situation working, as in no place for my handbags.”

  “That sounds ridiculously unworkable, Carly.”

  “It is! I looked at another apartment that would have accommodated the handbags, but rent is astronomically high around here.” And she’d thought Conrad’s rent was out of line. She laughed again, but the truth was that she was worried if she could really afford New York, even with her new salary. She’d signed a six-month lease in a building that cate
red to short-term rentals. That was all she could afford to commit to right now, and she sincerely hoped that she wouldn’t have to stay in this dreadful box any longer than that.

  She missed her cottage. She missed Max and the dogs and everything about Austin. It was cold in New York. It was loud and crowded and there wasn’t a lot of green. Plus, there was not a decent breakfast taco to be found.

  “How’s the job?” Max asked.

  “Interesting,” she said. She still hadn’t figured out what she was doing there.

  “Do you like it?”

  Did she? She wasn’t sure. “I’ve only been on the job three days, so I’m not quite sure what I think. There’s so much to learn,” she said. “And my coworkers are . . . confused.” Confused was actually kind—her coworkers seemed mostly resentful of Carly.

  “Why?” Max asked.

  “Well, for starters, Ramona didn’t tell anyone she’d hired me. On my first day, when no one knew I was coming, they had to make room for me. Which meant moving a couple of people.” She shook her head. “It was horrible, Max. One guy quit and walked out into a rainstorm. My boss said he was always unhappy, but I don’t know, I think it was because of me. Still, it’s a great opportunity.” That was her mantra. She didn’t like the job right now, but she would. She had to give it time, she had to work hard. Everything new required a process of growth and she had to be patient. As Megan exhorted daily on her podcast, she had to pull on her big girl panties. “The magazine is doing a feature on Victor in April. And guess what? He’s in Los Angeles right now, working on a wedding collection for Lovely Bride.”

  “Okay, that I cannot picture.”

  She laughed. “So, hey, how’s my pup? Have you found that kangaroo food I told you about? He really likes it. And he really should have bottled water, Max. You don’t know what’s in the tap water sometimes.”

  “Don’t you worry about Baxter. He’s living the life. I have a new dog walker who, insofar as I know, is not dealing drugs next to Stevie Ray. Fabian takes the creek path behind my house, and they love him.”