Must Love Dogs: New Leash on Life

by Cook, Claire

  Just before I covered my face with the towel, a white stork flew overhead, the underside of its wings shaded black. Maybe it had just finished delivering a baby to someone.

  Beside me, Michael let out a loud snore.

  I woke up to the sound of laughing from the sky.

  "What is that?" I said through my towel.

  "God?" Carol said.

  "Well, now, wouldn't that be a fine how-do-you-do," our father said. "I was hoping God would turn out to be the real deal. I'll bet your mother was relieved when she showed up at the pearly gates."

  It was such human-sounding laughter that I couldn't help laughing along. Then everybody but Michael started to laugh, too.

  "It's a laughing gull," Michael said.

  "Is that related to a laughing cow?" I said.

  "Shh," Carol said. "Don't wake me. I was having the best dream. I was on Hilton Head for three whole nights for practically no money and I had the whole bathroom all to myself."

  "Forget about it," I said. "There's no way in hell I'm sharing Dad and Michael's bathroom."

  I peeled the towel off my face and looked up. The sky was ocean blue and the clouds looked like puffy white sails. Seagulls in full squawky symphony dipped and soared above us. I tried to pick out the one that was laughing at us from the crowd.

  "Phoebe and I came here once," Michael said. The towel muffled his voice like a confessional. "Not here-here, but Hilton Head. Her parents watched the girls for the night."

  The gull laughed again.

  "That," Michael said. "When a laughing gull does that, Phoebe told me it was good luck. It meant that we'd be laughing together for the rest of our lives."

  "So much for seagull laughter as prophecy," Carol said.

  There was a beat of silence and then we all burst out laughing, even Michael.

  "Has anybody ever told you what a bitch you are," he said. He threw his towel at her and it landed right on top of the one that still covered her face.

  "Language," our father said.

  "Witch with a capital B," Carol said through two towels.

  Chapter

  Twenty-three

  "There must be a restaurant around here somewhere," I said. "Unless that's under construction, too."

  Michael pushed himself up to a standing position and stretched. "I think that might be one over there. I'll go find out."

  "I'm right behind you, Mikey boy," our father said.

  "I'm going to see if that gate leads to the beach," I said. "I am dying to walk the beach."

  "Wait," Carol said. "Let's see if they've brought our stuff up to our rooms. We can get cleaned up, check out the restaurant situation, then we can have a nice early bird dinner—"

  "I like the sound of that," our dad said. "Especially if it comes with an early bird brewski or two."

  "Agreed," Michael said. "I've got to send a few more emails to the office, too, once we get up to the room. So it doesn't look like I cut out early."

  "I don't know," I said. "It sounds like an awful lot of work to me. How about you guys get us moved into our rooms. Just call my cell when you're done, and I'll meet you on the beach."

  My phone rang. "That was quick," I said.

  They were all looking at me so I had no choice but to dig my phone out of my shoulder bag.

  I looked at the Caller ID. "Uh-oh. It's Christine. She's going to kill us for not bringing her. What should I do?"

  "Lie," Carol said.

  The truth about big families is that someone is always getting left out. If you took the time to make sure that didn't happen, to make sure all six Hurlihy siblings were invited to participate in each and every escapade, you'd never go anywhere. So hurt feelings were always on the horizon, and the larger group factioned and re-factioned into smaller cliques accordingly, based on who was pissed off at whom.

  I pushed the Accept button. "Hey. What's up?"

  "Where are you?" Christine said. "I just stopped by your house and nobody was there."

  "Sorry I missed you," I said. "Listen, I'm in the middle of something right now, but I'll call you back later in the week, okay?"

  I hit the End Call button. "How'd I do?" I asked.

  Carol's phone rang. I reached over and grabbed it off the arm of her lounge chair. I looked at the display, not that I really needed to.

  I handed Carol her phone. "Guess who?"

  Carol took it from me and put it back down.

  "You're not going to talk to her?"

  "I'm on vacation," Carol said.

  Around the corner from the pool we found a door that was propped open with a paint can. A sign taped to the wall just inside read PLEASE PARDON OUR APPEARANCE.

  Michael peeled the sign off the wall and slapped it onto the back of my T-shirt.

  Carol gave us her big sister glare. "Knock it off, you two. Don't you dare get us kicked out of here."

  "I didn't do it," I said. "Michael did."

  She yanked the sign off me and taped it back on the wall.

  Our luggage was still piled next to the card table, but the good news was it was still there. And our rooms were ready.

  Carol handed us each a plastic key card. A bellhop was just rolling an overloaded luggage carrier onto the elevator, so we piled on behind him. The woman who belonged to the luggage was tall and top heavy, and the man short and wiry.

  "This room better be good," the man said. "The rest of the place looks like a dump."

  "Shut up," the woman said.

  "Don't tell me to shut up," the man said.

  "What the hell was I thinking bringing you here with me," the woman said.

  The bellhop stared straight ahead. Our father started to whistle "I'm in the Mood for Love." Carol gave him her knock it off look. He switched to "Love Potion No. 9."

  We all got off at the fourth floor. My family and I stood to the side pretending to look for our keycards and let the lovebirds get ahead of us.

  "Well, that sure made me homesick," Carol said once they were out of earshot. "I might have to break down and call Dennis."

  I squinted at some rectangular plaques on the wall. "Okay, looks like our rooms are this way."

  "Holy Toledo," our father said a few minutes later. "Is it just me, or is this the longest hallway you've ever walked? I don't mind telling you it's got me wishing for a skateboard."

  "A wheelchair would work for me right about now," Michael said.

  We kept walking. And walking. Finally the hallway opened up to a square vestibule with a big round table in the center.

  "What is this?" Carol said. "There's no purpose to it. I hate things that don't have a purpose."

  I squatted down and put my head on the table. "Maybe it's here so you can rest halfway to your room?"

  "Come on," Michael said. "We don't have time to rest."

  I pushed my aching body to a standing position. We crossed the vestibule and continued down the hallway. I wished I'd thought to bring a compass just to make sure we weren't going around in circles. Or possibly squares.

  "Four-two-three-three," Carol chanted. "Four-two-three-four. Four-two-three-five."

  Ahead of us, the bellhop was holding a door open for the couple from the elevator. We paused to give them a moment to disappear inside.

  Carol's and my room turned out to be the very next one. "Four-two-three-eight," she said. "We made it."

  "Look," Michael said. A sign just ahead said ELEVATOR TO BEACH. "At least we can bypass the cross-country trek when we go out again."

  "Perfect," Carol said. "Okay, our rooms are adjoining, so as soon as you're cleaned up, just knock on the door to let us know you're ready to go. Twenty minutes tops."

  "Aye aye, sweetie," our dad said. "Anybody need a Slim Jim to tide them over? I brought plenty."

  "It feels so good not to smell," I said as I finished towel drying my hair and rolled on some orange blossom stick perfume.

  "Whoa," Carol said. "Enough with that stuff—you're going to start to attract fruit flies. Hurry up�
�I'm famished. I'm almost ready to take Dad up on that Slim Jim."

  We heard a knock on the adjoining door. Carol walked over to let our dad and Michael in. Neither of them had taken the time to shave, but they were both wearing golf shirts and shorts and had slicked-back wet hair.

  "I called the front desk," Michael said. "The kitchen is being renovated but they still have room service."

  "If the kitchen is being renovated," Carol said, "where does the food come from?"

  My exhausted brain would never have made that connection. "Good point," I said. "I think we should go out. I bet if we follow the beach we'll eventually come to a waterfront restaurant."

  "To the beach elevator," our dad said. "I'll lead the way."

  The beach elevator opened right away. Michael pushed a button that said BEACH LEVEL. As the elevator descended, somebody's stomach growled, possibly mine.

  When we stepped off the elevator, a big black door with a sign that read BEACH was clearly visible at the end of the hallway.

  "Allow me," our dad said. He turned the knob and held the door open. "Thanks, Dad," I said.

  I took half a step and screamed. Michael yanked me back by my shoulders. In front of us was a sharp drop ending in a wasteland of concrete rubble. A single paltry strip of caution tape stood between me and sure death. Or at least some serious bruising.

  "Yikes," I said. "I think you just saved my life."

  Michael shrugged. "It was a lot less time-intensive than writing a speech for your memorial service."

  "There has to be another way out," Carol said. We backtracked, found a stairwell, walked down two flights of stairs to a locked door. Turned around, walked back up the stairs, found the beach elevator that didn't lead to the beach. Pushed the button that said LOBBY. When the door opened, the former lobby was still a construction site.

  Our dad held the elevator door open with one hand and ran his other hand through his still damp hair. "Perhaps we should go back to our rooms and see if we can get pizza delivered. Did anybody happen to notice what they had for beer in the minibar?"

  "Think about it," Michael said. "If we can't get out, how is the pizza going to get in?"

  Chapter

  Twenty-four

  It's not easy to find a restaurant on Hilton Head Island, even with GPS on your phone, because everything is tastefully designed to disappear into the extreme landscaping.

  "Let's just stop at the first place that looks promising," I said. "I don't want to drive around all night."

  "I want a margarita," Carol said. "I haven't had a margarita since before my last pregnancy."

  "Over there," Michael yelled. "It says Mexican Grill."

  Once we finally found the restaurant tucked behind the shrubbery, we all ordered Gringo Burritos because we liked the name.

  "And I'll have a margarita," Carol said.

  "We don't serve alcohol," the woman behind the counter said. "But you can go next door and ask them to put your drink in a carry-out cup while you're waiting for your burritos."

  Next door turned out to be a Thai restaurant at the far end of the same storefront row. "It's like a new fusion dining experience," I said as we carried our drinks back to the other restaurant. "Southern-slash-Mexican-slash-Thai."

  Carol stopped for a sip. "Ohmigod. This is the best thing I've ever tasted."

  We found an empty table off in the corner. I didn't even really like margaritas but I'd ordered one anyway, since it seemed easier than trying to figure out what I actually did want. Michael and our dad were drinking Dogfish Head beer straight from the bottles. When our burritos arrived, we chowed down in silence, watching the tourists in their golf shirts and shorts and flip-flops.

  I wiggled my toes in my own flip-flops and took a long sip of margarita. Maybe it was what I'd wanted after all. "I have to walk the beach," I said. "Don't let me fall asleep again until I walk the beach."

  Michael washed down a bite of burrito with a slug of beer. "And don't let me fall asleep until I get a plan. I need a plan. "

  "Don't let me call home," Carol said. "The minute I call, they'll turn their brains off and I'll have to do all the thinking. They're fine. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours."

  "I wonder what Sugar Butt is doing now," our father said.

  At first I thought Kevin was yelling at me in a dream. I hadn't dreamed about my former husband in a long time, and it didn't seem to be a good sign that he was invading my sleep again. He sounded different now. He was louder and more aggressive. I was glad he hadn't been like that when we were still together. Back then, we usually just stopped speaking to each other when we were angry. Or we'd huff and puff and slam doors a little harder than was absolutely necessary. Actually, I'd huff and puff and slam, and he'd be so stiffly polite I wanted to kill him.

  "I don't know what the hell I came here for anyway," he yelled.

  "Unbelievable," Carol said.

  "What are you doing here?" I said. The only thing worse than fighting with Kevin was having my family hear me fighting with Kevin.

  Carol sat up in bed. "What do you mean, what am I doing here? What is that idiot doing in this hotel? He should be locked up somewhere."

  "Huh?" I pushed my weary body into a sitting position.

  "Don't you dare tell me to keep it down," the same voice yelled. "Just because you care what people think doesn't mean I give a shit."

  "Don't tell me what I give a shit about," a woman's voice yelled.

  "It must be that couple we saw checking in," I whispered, as if that wasn't completely obvious. "I didn't think they looked very happy."

  "Don't you tell me shit about anything," the male voice yelled.

  "Don't talk your shit to me," the female voice said.

  "Shit," I said. "We're never going to get any sleep."

  Carol was already calling the front desk.

  "So," Carol said after she hung up. "What do you want to talk about while we wait for security to shut them up?"

  "I don't know," I said. "What do you want to talk about?"

  Carol yawned. "What's new with Jack?"

  I yawned back. "His name is John. And we broke up."

  "For real? Or just until you kiss and make up again?"

  "For real."

  "How come?"

  "Don't tell anyone," I whispered. "But he wanted me to eat out of his dog's dish."

  Carol started to laugh.

  "It's not funny," I said.

  She laughed harder.

  "Fine. I'm officially not speaking to you."

  "That's it," Carol said. "I can't take it anymore."

  "That's it," the woman in the next room yelled. "I can't take it anymore."

  "That would have been funny," I said, "if we'd slept for more than an hour and a half."

  Carol turned on her bedside light and stomped across the room to the desk. She pulled a wad of tissue out of her telephone ear and picked up the phone. "It's me again. This is my third call, and if you can't get the people next door to shut up, I will expect a voucher for an all-inclusive vacation for four. And if my aging father has any adverse health repercussions from his extreme sleep-deprivation, I'll have to insist that you pay his medical bills as well, in accordance with the local noise ordinance."

  I pushed myself up to a sitting position. "Wow, you're good. How did you know about the local noise ordinance?"

  "I just made it up. Listen, help me drag this mattress into Dad and Michael's room. If I wanted to be sleep-deprived, I could have stayed home."

  It's not as easy as you might think to drag a hefty hotel mattress off a bed. We'd only moved it a foot or two when Michael knocked twice and poked his head into our room. He was rubbing his eyes. Clumps of wadded toilet paper stuck out of each ear.

  "Oh, no," I said. "You can hear them all the way over in your room?"

  He pulled the paper out of his ears. "Who?"

  "If I walk out that door, that's it," the man next door yelled. "You'll never see me again."

  "Oh, walk,
" Carol said. "Please walk."

  Michael shook his head. "I can't hear a damn thing in our room over Dad's snoring. I think we need to get him checked out for sleep apnea when we get home. Either that or buy him a muzzle."

  "Go," the woman next door yelled. "But don't think for one goddamn minute you're taking the car. I'll throw the keys off the goddamn balcony before I let you take the goddamn car."

  "Wow," Michael said. "Have you called security?"

  "Now why didn't we think of that," Carol said.

  We heard three loud knocks out in the hallway, followed by "Security."

  "Not that we'll be here long enough to reap the benefits," Carol said, "but I hope some of the renovations around here involve sound-proofing."

  "Hurry." I gave Carol's mattress a shove back toward its original position. "We've only got twenty minutes to sleep."

  "Can you guys help me bring my mattress in here?" Michael said. "I can't take that snoring anymore."

  Michael was all settled in and I was just dozing off when something hit the other side of the wall with a loud thump.

  "What was that?" I said.

  "It sounded like a shoe," Carol said.

  "It might be a good sign," I said. "Maybe they're packing."

  We heard another thump, this one wall-shaking.

  "Yup," Michael said from his mattress on the floor. "There's the suitcase."

  We started to laugh. And then we started to laugh louder, like three little kids in the dark, that full throttle kind of laughter that hurts your stomach and doesn't happen often enough once you're a grown-up.

  "Stop it," Carol said. "After four pregnancies, I can only laugh a little or I pee my pants."

  "Too much information," Michael said. We all started laughing harder.

  "Shut the fuck up," the guy next door yelled.

  "Ohmigod," I said. "Is he talking to us?"

  "Don't tell them to shut the fuck up," the woman yelled. "You shut the fuck up."

  "Language," Michael said.

  "Shut the puck up with a capital F," I said.