by Claire Cook
"We must, we must, we must increase our bust," Michael said beside me all these years later as he pumped Growing Up Skipper's left arm up and down. Her breasts appeared and disappeared in perfect time to his chant.
"Knock it off," I said. I reached for my old doll.
Michael yanked her away. "Who's gonna make me?"
"Give her to me, " I yelled as I lunged for Skipper. Old habits die hard and all that, but it was truly amazing the way my brothers and sisters and I could revert to our childhood selves in a nanosecond.
A loud bark made me jump. Mother Teresa, Michael's humongous St. Bernard, who was also staying with me until Phoebe missed her or until hell froze over, grabbed Growing Up Skipper.
I screamed.
Michael jumped to his feet. "Mother Teresa, drop it."
Mother Teresa held Skipper's left arm between her teeth as she shook her head in some ancient prey-killing ritual she hadn't quite evolved beyond. The doll's breasts appeared and disappeared with each shake.
I ran to the kitchen and grabbed the doggie treat jar. I held out a bone-shaped biscuit.
Mother Teresa appeared to raise one eyebrow.
I put the first treat on the floor and took a second one from the jar.
She gave Growing Up Skipper another shake.
"Fine," I said. "But fair warning, I'm drawing the line at three."
Mother Teresa placed Growing Up Skipper gently on the floor and collected her three treats.
"Good girl," Michael said.
"That's debatable," I said. I picked up my drool-covered doll and started wiping her on my jeans. I reconsidered and grabbed a pizza napkin.
"Here, I'll get that," Michael said.
I handed over Growing Up Skipper and the napkin and plopped down on the couch.
Michael finished grooming Growing Up Skipper and was back to rhythmically pumping her left arm.
I knew it was a cry for help. I recognized my sisterly duty. I'd get his mind off Growing up Skipper, then I'd get his mind off Phoebe. I'd help him realize his marriage was over, assist him in navigating his divorce while striving to keep the negative impact on Annie and Lainie to a bare minimum. And then I'd find him a more suitable match. As soon as I got that all squared away, John Anderson and I would ride off into the blissful sunset together.
"I think I'll pack it in," Michael said. "Do you want me to take Mother Teresa out one more time, or can you get her before you head off to bed?"
Mother Teresa leaned over and lapped my cheek. I sighed. "I'll take her."
Michael gave a sad half-wave. "G'night, Sarah. Night, Mother Teresa."
He took an unhappy step toward the guestroom.
"Michael," I said.
He turned around. Growing Up Skipper was cradled in his arms.
I held out my hand. "Give me the doll, Michael."
I sat there for a while, scratching Mother Teresa in her new favorite place, right behind her left ear. Then I got up and tiptoed to my former master bedroom, which I'd turned into an office and where I worked on projects and stored extra things for my classroom.
I rummaged through a pile of scrapbooks on the bottom shelf. I pulled out my wedding album, dusted it off with one hand, held it for a moment. I closed my eyes and tried to picture Kevin, my former husband. All I could conjure was a vague image of a man sitting on a toilet seat, his head hidden behind the newspaper, his pants around his ankles, the bathroom door open. I wondered if Kevin read his morning news on an iPad now.
Finally, I found the notebook I'd kept while I was navigating the dating scene. A page for each of my dates, rated with hand-drawn stars and flags. So many red flags billowed across the tops of the pages that it looked like a sale at a car dealership. George from Hanover, who was looking for a relationship one day a month, no strings, no commitments. Ben, who grew his own alfalfa sprouts. The guy looking for a plus-sized Woman, that I'd briefly considered partly because I liked the way he capitalized Woman, but mostly because I could eat a lot. Ray Santia, the former almost hockey star I'd almost slept with. Bob Connor, the parent of one of my students I shouldn't have slept with.
It was a jungle out there. Poor Michael. But if I didn't get him out of my house and on his merry way, before I knew it I might be back out there myself.
I took a moment to shudder at the thought. Then I found the personal ad my sister Carol had placed for me, taped into the center of a page.
Voluptuous, sensuous, alluring and fun. Barely 40 DWF seeks special man to share starlit nights. Must love dogs.
I carried my dating notebook out to the living room, along with my favorite red pencil. I turned to a fresh college-lined page and tapped the eraser against my teeth while I tweaked the ad to suit my brother.
Buff, brilliant, broken but not beyond repair. Handsome soon to be DWM with all his hair seeks special woman who meets his daughters' high standards. Must love big slobbery dogs.
. . . . .
Keep reading! Download your copy of Must Love Dogs: New Leash on Life, Book 2 of the new Must Love Dogs series, here: http://amzn.to/1bC8ctO.
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MUST LOVE DOGS
MUST LOVE DOGS: NEW LEASH ON LIFE (#2)
MUST LOVE DOGS: FETCH YOU LATER (#3)
and lots more to come!
NEVER TOO LATE: YOUR ROADMAP TO REINVENTION (without getting lost along the way)
THE WILDWATER WALKING CLUB
LIFE'S A BEACH
SUMMER BLOWOUT
MULTIPLE CHOICE
TIME FLIES
WALLFLOWER IN BLOOM
BEST STAGED PLANS
SEVEN YEAR SWITCH
READY TO FALL
ABOUT CLAIRE
I wrote my first novel in my minivan at 45. At 50, I walked the red carpet at the Hollywood premiere of the adaptation of my second novel, Must Love Dogs, starring Diane Lane and John Cusack. If you have a buried dream, take it from me, it is NEVER too late!
I've reinvented myself once again by turning Must Love Dogs into a series, as well as by writing my first nonfiction book, Never Too Late: Your Roadmap to Reinvention (without getting lost along the way), in which I share everything I've learned on my own journey that might help you in yours. I've also become a reinvention speaker, so if know anyone who's looking for a fun and inspiring speaker, I hope you'll send them to http://ClaireCook.com/speaking/. Thanks!
I was born in Virginia, and lived for many years in Scituate, Massachusetts, a beach town between Boston and Cape Cod. My husband and I have recently moved to the suburbs of Atlanta to be closer to our two adult kids, who actually want us around again!
I have the world's most fabulous readers and I'm forever grateful to all of you for giving me the gift of this career. Midlife Rocks!
xxxxxClaire
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter T
wenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Note from Claire Cook
Sarah's Winey Mac & Cheese
Book Club Questions
MUST LOVE DOGS: New Leash on Life
Praise for MUST LOVE DOGS
Claire's Books
About Claire
Copyright © 2013, 2002 by Claire Cook.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher excerpt for the use of brief quotations in a book review. For permission requests, send an email to the author at www.ClaireCook.com.
Publisher's Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author's imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
The Library of Congress has catalogued the hardcover edition of this title as follows:
Must love dogs/Claire Cook.
Divorced women—Fiction. 2. Irish-American families—Fiction. 3. Dating—social customs—Fiction. 4. Massachusetts—Fiction. 5. Dog owners—Fiction.
Marshbury Beach Books
Book Layout: BookDesignTemplates.com
Author Photo: Kaden Jacobucci
Must Love Dogs/ Claire Cook.
ISBN: 978-0-9899210-1-5
ASIN: B0050ZKYJ
