Doggone Disaster

by Margaret Lashley

  I shoved my phone into my purse and hit the ignition on Maggie. Her twin glass packs rumbled as deep and dark as my mood. I imagined Tom at my place, busily hanging up his clothes in my closet. Rummaging around in my fridge, drinking my beer. Eating my chips. Argh! Home had been my sanctuary from work. My place to be me. Wearing sweatpants all Saturday. No makeup. Candy bars and cocktails for dinner. If he moved in, all that would be history!

  And once he’d moved in, how long would it be before work became my sanctuary from home? How long before home became just another four-letter word?

  I mashed the gas pedal and clamped my jaw tighter than my ex-husband’s wallet. My teeth were about to crack under the pressure when I spied something odd. It was one of those inflatable, side-of-the-road puppet-things that danced maniacally to the beat of an air compressor. This one happened to be a stork with a diapered baby-doll suspended in its beak.

  Whoever’d come up with that bright idea obviously hadn’t thought it all the way through. Instead of soaring gracefully through the air to deliver the baby, the murderous, flailing stork was slamming it against a light post like an episode of Animal Planet gone horribly awry.

  But I had to admit, the homicidal stork had performed its job. It had definitely gotten my attention. I slammed on the brakes. Maggie’s tires squealed as I pulled a one-eighty and lurched into the parking lot of the new Baby Bonanza Boutique. I wanted to pick something up for Milly’s new, baby daughter.

  When I opened the door to the boutique, it was like entering another portal of existence. In that strange, new world where pastels ruled and babies drooled, I felt as out of place as a chili-cheese dog on a vegan buffet. I looked around at all the baby paraphernalia and the room began to spin. Poor Milly! Tom may be invading my space, but at least he doesn’t come with a stroller, a playpen, a diaper bag, a swing set, a bassinet, a crib....

  “Welcome to Three B’s!” a piercingly perky woman’s voice rang out. Given my current mood and state of disorientation, her high-pitched cheerfulness nearly gave me seizure.

  “Uh...thanks.” I turned to face her and glanced around the disorienting land of teddy bears and hearts and rainbows. I blinked hard. I was about to drown in all the baby stuff swimming around.

  “Can I help you find something?” the woman chirped.

  “Uh...yes. I need something for a six-month-old girl.”

  The woman’s face melted into materialistic ecstasy. “Oh! A little girl! How precious! I have just the thing!” She practically sprinted to a rack. A second later, she shoved a handful of pink satin and lace in my face. “Look at this! Direct from Paris!”

  I ran my eyes over the frilly dress. Even I had to admit it was gorgeous. When the woman twirled the tiny dress around to reveal a pink satin tieback bow, my heart melted and my wallet opened. “I’ll take it,” I said.

  “Excellent choice,” the woman cooed. “That will be $145.79.”

  My heart began to freeze over again. Then I thought about Milly. And Charmine. I was going to be an aunt...sort of. “Okay,” I said, and handed over my credit card.

  “Would you like it gift wrapped? It’s just $5.99 extra.”

  Comparatively, that sounded like a bargain. “Sure, what the hay.” I watched the pink dress disappear, first beneath fluffy tissue paper and then inside a precious pink bag covered in even pinker, more precious hearts. All the while, I kept saying the name Charmine over and over again in my mind. Charmine. Charmine. Charmine. It sounded like charming without the “G.” How adorable is that?

  “Here you go,” the clerk said. “She’s going to love it!”

  “I think so, too,” I said with a grin. I mean, what woman didn’t love expensive clothes? I signed the credit card slip, grabbed the pink, heart-covered gift bag and wandered dreamily out of the store.

  Chapter Three

  When I pulled up at my house, Tom’s big, fat, silver SUV was already there, hogging up half the driveway. Which meant he was in my house. My space. My home. Without my supervision! I couldn’t decide whether to be angry or perturbed. But then I remembered that I’d invited him over. So I decided I’d be just a little of both.

  “Hey, Tom,” I called out halfheartedly as I opened the front door.

  He didn’t answer. I set my purse on the kitchen counter and looked out the sliding glass doors into the backyard. Tom was straightening the lounge chairs around the fire pit. Why did he have to be so darn...handy? I slid open the door enough to stick my head out and yelled, “Hey! You ready to go?”

  Tom turned his handsome blond head my way. “Sure. What happened out here? Your chairs were turned over.”

  “I dunno.”

  Tom pursed his lips and glanced around. “Must have been the wind.”

  “Sure. That’s probably it.” I clicked my short, unpolished nails on the glass door. “Come on. Aren’t you anxious to meet Charmine?”

  “Of course I am,” Tom answered. “I’m just a little surprised that you are.”

  I frowned. “Why? I like kids.”

  Tom grinned. “Sure you do. I guess...I’ve just never seen you around any.”

  “Not my fault,” I said. “Nobody I know has any.”

  “You mean nobody you knew. I hope Vance and Milly know what they’re getting into. Their lives as they knew them are now officially over.”

  I smirked at Tom. “Now who doesn’t like kids?”

  Tom wrapped his strong, cop arms around me and kissed me. “You and I are just a couple of old dogs, Val. We’re both too set in our ways for kids.”

  I pulled back, bared my teeth and growled. “Grrr! Who you callin’ an old dog, mister?”

  Tom shook his head. “Geeze! I hope you had your rabies shot.”

  “You better say something nice to me right now, or I’m gonna bite you!”

  “Promises, promises,” Tom whispered. He nuzzled my neck and used the tip of his tongue to tickle that place behind my ear that always drove me wild. Old dog or not, he knew a few tricks. A few really, really good tricks.

  “Come on, let’s go,” I said, and pulled away from his embrace. I didn’t really want him to stop, but we were already running late. “They’re expecting us at 6:30, you know.”

  Tom pulled me tight to him again. “I know,” he whispered in my ear. A shiver ran through me. “But you’re gonna be doggone sorry.”

  I smirked and shook my head. “One thing you’ll never learn, old dog, is how to tell a good joke.”

  Tom frowned, hung his head and pretended to pout. I patted him on the head.

  “Don’t worry, Tom. You more than make up for it by being housebroken.”

  WHEN WE PULLED UP IN front of Vance and Milly’s place in Tom’s SUV, the old dog let out a loud wolf whistle.

  “I know, right?” I said. “Vance must be killing it with Kelly’s Pub.”

  “I’d say,” Tom said, shaking his head in awe at the Tudor-style mansion. “That house is huge. Looks to be what, five-thousand square feet?”

  “Six-thousand, four-hundred,” I said.

  Tom shot me a look.

  “What?” I said defensively. “Milly told me. She said Vance told her that his house was bigger than his restaurant.”

  Tom shrugged. “What’s he need with all that room?”

  “Apparently, he’s got a growing family to house, remember? We should get going.” I turned to climb out of the SUV, but Tom grabbed my hand.

  His eyes locked onto mine. “You ever wish you had kids, Val?”

  I shrugged. “Sure, for about five minutes. Once. But then I thought, what would I do with a kid? Most of the time, I can barely take care of myself.”

  Tom blew out a breath and stared absently past me toward Vance and Milly’s mansion.

  “How about you?” I asked.

  “Never seemed like the right time,” he said. Then his eyes locked on mine again. “Now, it doesn’t matter, right? We’re old enough to be grandparents.”

  He leaned over and tried to kiss me, but I was
no longer in the mood. The thought of making out with grandpa was a real libido killer. “Keep your hands to yourself, gramps,” I sneered, and climbed out of the SUV.

  As we walked up the drive toward the humongous Tudor house, its massive, mahogany front door opened. Out poked a rear end in a yellow, polka-dotted dress. Then the rest of Milly appeared, followed by the baby stroller she was pulling. Tom and I exchanged excited grins.

  “Milly with a baby,” I said, almost whispering. I shook my head. “Who would have ever thought?”

  Milly shut the door behind her, then leaned over and cooed into the stroller. Her beautiful blonde hair hung down, obscuring her face. She was so intent with her baby talk that she didn’t notice us walk up.

  “Hey, Milly,” I said softly, so as not to frighten her or the baby.

  She turned around, beamed at me and hugged me like a momma bear. “Oh my goodness! Val! Tom! It’s so good to see you two! I want you to meet my Charmine! Isn’t she precious?”

  Milly lifted the thin baby blanket covering the carriage. I made a goofy face and stuck my head in for a peek. But instead of goo-gooing, I yelped with shock and surprise. Charmine’s face was covered with fur! And her fuzzy ears were pointed! Either Charmine was a dog, or some weirdo in Hawaii had had an affair with Chewbacca.

  “Geeze, Milly! That’s a dog!” I cried. I looked over at Tom, my eyes still doubled from the shock. He was no help – unless you counted laughing hysterically at me as help, which I, personally, did not. I could barely hear Milly over his raucous hoots and haws.

  “Well of course she’s a dog,” Milly said in a hushed tone, as if the pooch might be offended at discovering her canine heritage. She hastily threw the blanket back over the carriage. “What did you think she was, Val?”

  “I...uh...” I looked over at Tom. He was beside himself with laughter, doubled over on the lawn like a puking drunk. “Well, the way you –”

  “Oh! Is that for Charmine?” Milly squealed. She snatched the pink, heart-covered bag from my hand. “Oh! You shouldn’t have!”

  She was right. I shouldn’t have. But it was a bit too late for that now. “Yeah...well,” I fumbled. From the corner of my eye, I watched Tom fall on his knees in the grass, his crimson face contorted with laughter. Either that, or he was having a heart attack. I wasn’t sure which one I preferred.

  Milly pulled the frilly pink dress out of the bag and went ballistic with girly delight. “Oh, Val! It’s beautiful! She’ll look lovely in it. Oh! I know! It’ll be perfect for her Barkmitzva!”

  Tom snorted like an asthmatic hog.

  “Barkmitzva?” I asked. “I didn’t know Charmine was Jewish.” I caught Tom’s eye. He’d almost recovered, but that one sent him back down on his side, squirming in the grass like an epileptic lawn jockey.

  “I’m not. Vance is,” Milly explained. “So...I guess that makes Charmine Jewish, too. The Barkmitzva is this Saturday. Can you two make it?”

  Tom snorted so loud Milly looked over her shoulder at him. He was on all fours. “Is he all right?” she asked.

  “Too much sugar,” I said. “But don’t worry. He won’t be getting anymore for a while. Let’s go in.”

  “Should we just leave him like that?” she asked, glancing back at Tom as she turned the stroller around.

  “Sure,” I replied. “If he’s not recovered in five minutes or so, I’ll call a veterinarian.”

  “OH LOOK, SHE’S WAKING up!” Milly said.

  Vance and Milly and Tom and I had paired off on two overstuffed couches facing each other in a living room bigger than my entire house. A massive, six-foot-square mahogany coffee table separated us. On it sat a collection of figurines of a caliber I’d never spotted on any of my yard-sale bargain hunts.

  In style and scale, the room was reminiscent of a national-park lodge. A huge, stone fireplace stood in the center of one wall, and thick, wooden beams formed a ribcage design on the fourteen-foot-tall arched ceilings. Despite its gargantuan proportions, in the company of friends, the room felt cozy as we sat around drinking wine and swapping stories of Vance and Milly’s honeymoon and our single days gone by.

  For over half an hour, Charmine had slept through our boisterous conversation. I guess the growing girl really did need her sleep. But when Vance came back from the kitchen with a tray laden with chunks of cheese and sausage, the little pooch perked up like one of those balloons you shoot water into at the county fair.

  “Oh! Look! Who’s a good girl?” Milly cooed.

  Charmine whined and stuck her furry little snout out of the stroller. Milly picked her up and set her on her lap. At first glance, Charmine didn’t look to be much more than a ball of reddish-gold fur punctuated by three black dots – two for her eyes and one for her nose. But when she turned to face us on Milly’s lap, I saw she had a white, heart-shaped patch of fur on her fuzzy little chest. Her bushy tail, thick as her head, curled and stood straight up, making it hard to tell which end was which.

  Milly stroked Charmine’s head while Vince tempted her with a tiny bit of sausage he’d bitten off and retrieved from his own tongue. When Charmine gobbled it up, Vance looked over at us, as proud of the pup as if she’d just graduated from Harvard.

  “Isn’t she smart?” Vance asked, his question more a statement of irrefutable fact. His smitten eyes never left Charmine. Instead, he grinned and nodded his head encouragingly while Milly cuddled the little dog. The scene was as endearing as it was ridiculous. I began to feel oddly voyeuristic, as if I’d snuck into a family love fest without buying the proper ticket for admission.

  Tom squeezed my knee. We exchanged tight smiles. Vance bit off another tiny piece of sausage. Charmine snapped it up. It was all too...intimate. And, to be honest, boring.

  “What kind of dog is she?” I asked, to break the awkwardness that perhaps only I had been feeling.

  “What?” Milly asked. She looked up absently, as if she’d forgotten Tom and I were there. “Oh. We don’t stand on pedigree here. But I think she’s mostly Pomeranian.”

  “Where did you find her?” Tom asked.

  Milly choked up as she spoke. “She was...living on the streets.”

  “Well, it was in Hawaii,” Tom offered. “It couldn’t have been that bad.”

  “She was scrounging around a dumpster,” Vance said indignantly.

  Milly’s eyes doubled in size. She placed her hands over Charmine’s pointy little ears.

  “It was bad enough,” she said.

  “She was famished when we found her, wasn’t she?” Vance said to Milly. “Poor baby. But it’s all better now,” Vance cooed to Charmine in baby talk.

  “Well, it looks like she’s found a wonderful home now,” I said cheerfully. “And speaking of home....” I eyed Tom. He got the hint.

  “Oh. Yes,” Tom said, springing up from the couch. “We really should get going.”

  “But wait. You have to see this!” Milly said.

  Our escape foiled for the moment, Tom and I stood in place and watched as Milly tugged the fancy pink dress on over Charmine’s thick, golden coat. She tied the bow in the back and set the dog on the floor.

  Charmine squeaked out a sound that could only be called a bark because it came from a dog. She squatted on the rug, and before Milly could say a word, three turds tumbled from Charmine’s sphincter like brown Play-Doh.

  “Oops! She’s not quite housebroken,” Milly laughed, as if the dog had done something unbearably cute.

  “Apparently not,” I said.

  “Aww. It’s just a little poo-poo,” Vance gushed. “Good girl!”

  I began to wonder if Charmine wasn’t a dog, but an alien being who’d stolen Milly and Vance’s brains – or shot their gray matter to mush with a secret ray gun. I mean, really! Charmine’s just a dog. What’s the big deal?

  “Our precious girl’s adorable, isn’t she?” Milly blathered.

  “Yes. She’s adorable,” I said. “Congratulations, you two.” I turned to Tom. “But we really must be go
ing.”

  “Just one more thing,” Milly said. She stood up and took my hand. “I was wondering, Val...would you mind staying with Charmine tomorrow? Just while I catch things up at work? I really hate to leave her alone all day.”

  I stiffened. Then I remembered I had a bona fide excuse. “I don’t have any holiday time left,” I said. “I used up all my days on my birthday trip, remember? That beach holiday I spent chasing lunatic fishermen and the inept pigs who wanted to throw me in jail?” I shot a glance at Tom. “No offense.”

  Tom grinned through one side of his mouth. “Good times.”

  Milly frowned and shook her head at me as if I were pathetic. “I know that, Val. I’m your boss after all. But, well...this is an emergency. I was thinking that you could maybe babysit Charmine instead of going in to work tomorrow? I’ll work it out with Mr. Griffith. He won’t mind. You know him. As long as the coffee gets made, he’s good to go. And I’ll pay you the same wages, so you won’t miss out financially. I’ll tell him you’re taking unpaid leave.”

  I looked down at Charmine, then back at Milly. I bit my lip. I had no idea how to take care of a kid, much less a dog! “I dunno....”

  “It’s just one day, Val!” Milly said in a way that conveyed dismay at me not snapping up her amazing offer. “That’s all I need to get the firm back on track. I promise. I’ll make some calls and find someone else to watch her after that.” Milly nuzzled her face with Charmine’s, who had just licked her own poopy butt. Yuck.

  I grimaced. Milly laughed.

  “Come on, Val! Look at her! There ought to be a law against being so cute, right?” She kissed Charmine on the nose. “I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving my doodle bug alone all day with some stranger.”

  “I’m a stranger,” I argued. “I mean, Charmine doesn’t know me.”

  Milly looked up, almost shocked. “No, you’re not. You’re family.”

  “That’s right,” Vance agreed. “Both of you are.”

  How could I argue with that? My reservations and objections had been worn away like a sandcastle at high tide. “Sure. Okay.”