About a Dog

by Jenn McKinlay

  It was bad enough she was fooling around with her best friend’s little brother; now she’d have to deal with all of the attachment that came with a person transitioning out of one thing and into another. She dropped the picture into the drawer and slammed it shut.

  She tapped the pen to the pad and tried to think of what to say. It had to be nice without offering any possibility for the future. Thanks for the good time? No, too cold. Plus, it had been way better than good.

  No, there really wasn’t anything in Miss Manners that covered ducking out on a man and leaving him hard up because you’re on hiatus from your own relationship, you suspect you’re just his NER (nonexistent relationship), aka, friends with benefits, booty call, etc., oh, and your best friend will likely kill you if she finds out you’re fooling around with her little brother.

  Okay, then, blame it on someone else. Misdirection of fault, which always worked, right?

  She scribbled:

  The aunts called. Had to go. Sorry, Mac.

  She debated a kinder, gentler closing but she couldn’t write “love,” “fondly” seemed wrong, and X’s and O’s were wildly inappropriate. “Sorry” would have to do, and at least it was honest. She was sorry; sorry for agreeing to be his buddy for Emma, sorry for going too far with him when he clearly wasn’t over his ex, and sorry for not being stronger and letting things get out of hand, as it was, between them.

  Leaving the note on the kitchen table, she grabbed her bag and darted out, locking the door behind her. She hurried down the stairs and up the sidewalk, putting as much distance between her and his place as she could without looking like a felon on the run.

  She didn’t slow down until she reached the cover of the trees that lined the town green. The night air was heavy and damp, cool with a briny tang to it, letting her know it must be high tide. It was almost midnight, but she felt no fear walking through Bluff Point this late at night. Even though she had been away for years, this was home and she knew every crack and crevice, every nook and cranny of its craggy familiar face as if she had never been gone.

  The churches were lit up for their nightly sentry duty, and a light breeze ruffled the leaves of the maples overhead. The shops were all closed but the streetlamps, made to look like old-fashioned lampposts, kept back the gloomy shadows with their yellow light. Mac had missed this town, she realized. Walking along the sidewalk, she felt as if it was embracing her back into the fold. Too bad she couldn’t stay.

  The sound of a car engine cruising up on her made Mac turn and look over her shoulder. Her heart kicked into high gear, thinking it might be Gavin. It was not.

  As the Jeep slowed beside her, the passenger window rolled down, and Carly leaned out and said, “For the love of all that is holy, please tell me this is not Walk of Shame, Part Deux.”

  “Okay, I won’t tell you,” Mac said as she opened the back door and climbed in.

  “What?” Jillian whipped her head around to look at Mac from the driver’s seat.

  “I’m joking,” Mac said. “What are you two doing out here?”

  “Well, after jail we were going to go for drinks but we discovered being incarcerated really builds a girl’s appetite so we all went to the diner on Route One and had blueberry pancakes, and now we’re headed home.”

  Mac felt her stomach rumble. She could use a pancake about now.

  “The more interesting question is why are you out here?” Carly asked. “Because I was under the impression that Gavin was taking you home.”

  “Yeah, well, that was before I got a glimpse of myself in the mirror,” Mac said. “Thanks for telling me I looked like dog shit, by the way.”

  “Well, you already smelled like it,” Jillian said. “Besides, we figured you were too upset to care.”

  Okay, Mac could concede that point.

  “So, you look freshly laundered,” Carly said. “How’d that happen?”

  “I took a minute to clean up and wash my clothes and was just walking home,” Mac said. “So, see? NBD.”

  “No big deal?” Carly asked. “Where exactly did you do laundry and clean up?”

  “Gavin’s place,” Mac said. She tried to make it sound as casual as she would say the library, or the post office, or a rest stop on the highway, but even she could hear her voice drop an octave and become raspy.

  Jillian turned the Jeep into Mac’s driveway at the same moment Carly squealed, “You slept with him, didn’t you?”

  “What?” Mac asked. “No!” Technically, it was not a lie; there had been no sleeping involved.

  “You can tell us the truth,” Jillian said.

  “I am,” Mac said. She tried to sound indignant, but she knew it came out as defensive instead.

  “Uh-huh,” Carly said.

  “Whatever.” Mac rolled her eyes. She opened her bag and rummaged around for her house key. Grabbing the big ring, she pulled it out of her purse and Carly shrieked and grabbed for the keys.

  “Mackenzie Harris, if you did not fool around with Gavin, what is your bra doing dangling from your keys?” she demanded as she held Mac’s pink bra up as evidence.

  Mac thunked her head against the headrest on Jillian’s seat. “Would you believe me if I said it wasn’t mine?”

  “No,” Jillian and Carly said together.

  “It was worth a shot,” Mac said. “Look, it’s not how it seems. I took a shower at his place—”

  “Before or after sex?” Carly asked.

  “Before,” Mac said and then clapped a hand over her mouth.

  “Good,” Jillian said, ever practical. “Because you needed one.”

  “No, no, no, that’s not what I meant,” Mac said. “Listen, emotions were running high, mostly mine, and we fooled around, really, it wasn’t any more than that.”

  “Then why did you sneak out of his place?” Carly asked.

  “What makes you think I snuck out?” Mac asked.

  “Because this is Gavin,” Carly said. “And if he was there when you decided to leave—no wait, if he was there, why would you decide to leave? I mean if you had access to that bod, you could start kissing his—”

  “Stop before you overheat,” Jillian said. Then she turned to Mac. “She’s right; Gavin would have insisted on driving you home. So, if I accept that what happened between you is none of my business—”

  Carly opened her mouth to protest, but Jillian spoke right over her and said, “And I do, then my concerns are now centered on Emma. Is what happened between you and Gavin going to impact her in any way?”

  “No,” Mac said. “In fact, that’s why I left, so that no damage can be done.”

  “No damage?” Carly asked. “Or no more damage?”

  Mac shrugged.

  “Did you ever think that maybe you should just tell Emma about what happened between you and Gavin seven years ago?” Jillian asked. Her voice was gentle and not judgy, which Mac appreciated so very much.

  “I’ve thought about it,” she said. “But I feel like the timing is not ideal. Also, did you see how she talked about Jane? She hates her—I mean, really hates her. And speaking of Jane, yeah, I found pictures of her in Gavin’s desk.”

  “What were you doing searching his desk?” Jillian asked.

  “Snooping, obviously,” Carly said. “What’d you find out?”

  “I was not snooping,” she protested. “He had to leave to go tend an emergency with a boxer, so I was merely looking for paper to leave him a note, because it’s the polite thing to do.”

  “I know I always appreciate a sweetly penned note post-coital,” Carly said.

  “It didn’t go that far,” Mac insisted. “But the thing is when I found the pictures of her right in the top of his desk, it occurred to me that I’m probably his transition woman from that relationship, and we all know what happens to transition relationships.”

 
“Oh,” Carly said, making a bad face. “Kabloeey. Kablammy.”

  “Kaboom,” Jilly offered.

  “I know, right?” Mac said. “It won’t work out between us, it’ll end badly with hurt feelings, and then Emma will be stuck in the middle.”

  “Yeah, I can see how that would be a concern,” Jillian said. “Okay, well, fooling around happens at weddings all of the time. There is no need to panic.”

  “Yeah, just keep from crossing the finish line, and you can flirt with him and head back to Chicago without worrying about being his transition boink or pissing off Emma.”

  “Okay, I can do that. Your word you won’t say anything,” Mac said. “Both of you.”

  “I promise,” Jillian said.

  “I’ve been zip-lipped for seven years, I’m not going to crack now,” Carly said.

  “Thanks,” Mac said. “And thanks for the ride.”

  Carly gestured to the front door, where the aunts were standing in the porch light. “You might want to put the bra away.”

  “Yeah,” Mac said. She stuffed it back in her bag and zipped it closed. With a wave and feeling newly resolved to keep things casual with Gavin, she left the car and continued her walk of shame up the steps to the front porch.

  Chapter 27

  Mac was pretty sure she would have made a fine detective. So far, she had spent the better part of the past day and a half staking out Lester’s house, doing drive-bys, and waiting for his piece of rust Buick to be gone from the premises so she could sneak under the fence, which had not been fixed, and snuggle Tulip, bringing food and water with her when she did.

  Tulip was filthy and in desperate need of a bath, but Mac didn’t care. She loved on her dog and let the puppy climb in her lap while she talked to her, letting her know that one way or another Mac was going to get her out of there.

  It was on her first visit on the second day that the situation got complicated. Tulip sprang from Mac’s lap and barked at the fence. A flash of panic hit Mac and she feared it was Lester coming to get her, but then why wouldn’t he use the back door?

  She glanced at the fence and her stomach flip-flopped when she saw the familiar tall, muscled frame of Gavin as he hoisted himself up over the top of the fence. He dropped onto his feet and strode forward but as soon as he was within reach of Tulip, she took him out at the knees, knocking him on his keister. Then she licked him right on the mouth.

  “Oh, ugh.” Gavin groaned. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand while rubbing Tulip’s ears with the other. “Always on the mouth, princess, really?”

  The early morning sun shone on his light brown hair and Mac remembered how soft it had felt beneath her fingers. She glanced at his hands now rubbing Tulip’s belly, and she remembered what they felt like against her skin. She fanned her face. Why was it suddenly so hot out here?

  Gavin stood and walked over to where she sat in the dirt. He crouched down beside her and continued to pet the dog that trotted at his side.

  “Why am I not surprised to find you here?” he asked.

  “I’m predictable?”

  “No, never that.”

  They were both silent and Mac felt the weight of their last time together pressing on her chest like a cinder block. She knew she had to say something, but what?

  She tried to remember what Carly had said, that it was okay to flirt with Gavin but to keep it easy, keep it light, don’t go too far. Yeah, easy for Carly to say, flirting was hardwired into her DNA. Mac wasn’t like that. She wasn’t even sure she knew how to flirt, and if she did it was usually unintentional and only happened because she didn’t like the guy. A guy she liked? Yeah, those were the ones she hid under tables to avoid. She scouted the yard. No tables. Ugh.

  She needed to be clear about it. There could be no mixed signals or unclear signs. She had to shut this shiz down between them before . . .

  Gavin kissed her, swift and sweet but no less potent for its brevity. Boom! And just like that all of Mac’s resolutions twirled away on the wind like dandelion fluff, which she was pretty sure was all that was in her frontal lobe at the moment.

  He broke the kiss and leaned back on his heels. “You’ve been ducking me.”

  “No,” she lied.

  One eyebrow of his quirked higher than the other and Mac wondered just what it was that made that look so sexy. Was it because she had his full attention, or because there was some serious flirt behind it, or was it just because it kicked his already rugged good looks up a few notches? Hard to say.

  “I wouldn’t say ducking, exactly,” she said. She had practiced this speech in her head five thousand times over the past thirty-six hours. She’d even said it aloud to Tulip, who had been singularly unimpressed.

  “Avoiding, dodging, hiding from,” he listed the possible adjectives.

  “Tell me about Jane,” she said. Then she wanted to slap herself. That had not been a part of her so carefully crafted speech. She was going off message. Nothing good ever came of going off message.

  He tipped his head to the side. “What do you want to know?”

  “Were you very much in love with her?” she asked.

  “Jane?” He said her name as if he was trying to clarify that Mac was actually asking about her.

  “Yes,” she said. “The one who ran off with—”

  She bit off the words but the damage was done as he said, “The bookkeeper Carl.”

  She gave him a sad look. “Yeah, listen, I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

  “It’s not not your business.”

  She gave him a bewildered look and he shrugged.

  “Jane and I dated for a while. I thought we had something good going, but then she fell for Carl,” he said.

  “And?” she prodded.

  “And what?”

  “You were shattered and devastated and alone,” she said.

  Gavin laughed. He saw her face and tried to stop. He failed and then caught her dubious look and cleared his throat. “Yeah, no.”

  “But Emma said that Jane broke your heart,” Mac said.

  “Hmm, it was a swift kick in the ego to be dumped like that, no doubt, and for a while I was disappointed, but I was never devastated.” He shook his head. “She broke my bank account when she and Carl emptied it to fund their tryst, yeah, but my heart, no. I’ve recently remembered how much more all-consuming being in love is. It was never like that with her.”

  “Huh.” Mac’s brain scrambled to try and process what he was saying.

  “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” he asked. “Were you worried that I was pining for Jane?”

  “No,” she said. “Maybe. Argh.”

  She face-palmed herself, and Tulip shoved her big brown nose against Mac’s forehead to kiss it and make it better. This was not what was supposed to be happening! Mac shook her head.

  “Here’s the thing,” she said. “While I acknowledge that there is undeniable chemistry between—”

  “Oh, no, here it comes,” Gavin said. He pursed his lips and gave her a look that said he had thought better of her than this. That stung.

  “Here comes what?” she asked.

  “Your prepared speech on why we can’t be together. Let me sum up,” he said. “Emma’s wedding, me being her younger brother, you leaving town in a matter of days. Blah. Blah. Blah.”

  “It was way better than that,” Mac said. “It was touching and poignant and heartfelt.”

  “I’m sure, but we’re out of time,” he said. Abruptly, he rose to his feet, dragging Mac up with him. He bent over and pet Tulip on the head. “See ya, girl.”

  Mac frowned and then she heard it. The distinctive rattle of Lester’s muffler as he drove down the street toward them.

  She bent down and kissed Tulip’s head. “Later, baby girl, with treats.”

  “Come on, he’s a
lmost here,” Gavin said.

  They bolted for the fence. Mac slid under and Gavin hopped over it. They took off running on the path that led through the woods at the back of Lester’s property. Mac heard Tulip barking after them and was relieved that it sounded like a happy bark, like she thought this was a game. Mac hoped she was right because this was a game Mac planned to win.

  Halfway through the woods, they slowed down to walk. Mac’s breath was sewing in and out of her lungs and she could feel the burn with each gasp. Gavin didn’t seem to be suffering nearly as much; so annoying.

  “I’m parked over there,” she said and pointed to a narrow path in the woods.

  “I know. Jillian’s Jeep was a dead giveaway. I parked right behind you,” he said.

  Mac led the way out of the woods. She could hear the birds in the trees and feel the soft crunch of the pine needles under her shoes. The woodsy smell was rich and pungent and a small part of her wondered if they could just hide here in the forest where the past didn’t matter and the sun played hide-and-seek in the leaves overhead, tempting her to while away the day flirting with the man beside her, but no. He might be dismissive about her concerns for Emma’s wedding and her feelings about the two of them, but Mac couldn’t be.

  As she stepped onto the side of the road next to the Jeep, Gavin grabbed her hand. He pulled her back as if afraid that she was running away again; she was.

  “Be steady,” he said.

  Mac looked at him curiously and he jerked his head in the direction of the police car parked on the opposite side of the street. Mac’s mouth made an O of understanding.

  Officer Polson waved to them from the open window of his car. Mac wondered if this was where she ended up in the back of the squad car again.

  “Have a nice hike in the woods?” Polson asked.

  “It’s a good morning for one,” Gavin said. He shoved his free hand in his front pocket, the picture of boyish innocence.

  “Sure is,” Polson agreed. “I trust you’d let me know if you saw anything of concern in the forest.”