by Hillary Avis
“If you move in,” Brandon interrupted, arching an eyebrow.
“When I move in next week, I’ll have a yard.” Julio smirked at him.
Brandon crossed his arms playfully, his smile barely hidden. “I don’t know if I can live with someone until I have a firm commitment that the relationship is going somewhere.”
Julio bit his lip to contain his own smile. “What? Fifteen minutes ago I was your fiancé and now you’re throwing me and our child out on the street?” He threw his arms around Willow’s neck, and she nosed him on the cheek, leaving a trail of slobber.
Brandon giggled as he shook out his pocket square and held it out toward Julio. He waited until Julio used it to clean the dog drool from his face before leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Never. I’m going to buy a case of lint rollers at Costco the minute we leave, though, or we might drown in this stuff.” He batted away a tuft of Willow fur that was floating in the air.
“Wise move,” Allison said wryly. “Lint rollers have saved many a marriage from the hazards of dog ownership.”
“Marriage,” Brandon mouthed silently at Julio, who pointed meaningfully at the empty ring finger on his left hand.
“Are you applying together, then?” Rachael asked. When Julio nodded, she thumbed through her paperwork to find a blank application and clipped it on the top of her application pile. “OK, I need your info, too.” She handed the clipboard over to Brandon, who began to fill out his contact and reference information. “Be right back,” she added, and stepped around the screen to where the remaining two families were waiting to meet Willow.
Allison felt her phone buzz in her pocket and pulled it out to check it. An image of Emily in a long-sleeved ball gown popped up on the screen when she clicked it on. Beside her, Brandon made a disapproving sound, and she realized he’d caught a glimpse of the photo over her shoulder.
“Oh no, honey. No, no, no. Who is this child and why is she wearing that thing?”
“My daughter,” Allison said, sending a heart-eyes emoji back to Emily. “She got engaged last weekend.” A second image came through, this one of Emily in a strapless gown with—Allison zoomed in on the photo—puffy fabric flowers all over the skirt.
Brandon snatched the phone from her and looked at it, his lip curled with disgust. “Where is that, Bridal Depot? They put so much plastic in the dresses, they’re a fire hazard. Tell her to walk out of there immediately! Speak to no one! Sign nothing!”
He returned the phone to her, and Allison giggled at his alarmed expression. “Don’t worry, she’s just trying things on to see what she likes.”
“O-M-G. You have no idea, do you?” Brandon shook his head and nudged Julio, who now was engaged in a full belly-rub session, with the toe of his immaculately white sneakers. “Allison let her daughter go to Bridal Depot.”
“Uh oh.” Julio giggled. He paused petting Willow long enough that she got impatient and pawed him to continue. “Brace yourself.”
“What’s wrong with—” Allison began, but Brandon held up his hand.
“Don’t. Please, don’t finish that question. I see I need to save you from yourselves, so I’m clearing my schedule on Wednesday. Bring your daughter and I will take care of ev-er-y-thing. I’m talking champagne, I’m talking silks and satins, I’m talking veils for the gods.” He handed her a thick cream business card with a gold-embossed logo, then snatched it back and wrote “Wednesday” in all caps on the back using Rachael’s ballpoint pen and circled it twice.
Allison took it from him bemusedly. “I’ll see if she can make it. She has to drive down from Portland, so—”
“She can. She will if she knows what’s good for her. Tell her to look at my Instagram and she won’t argue.” Brandon finished filling out his forms with a flourish and passed them back to Rachael, who’d returned from apologizing to the other families waiting in line.
Rachael scanned the form, nodding her approval. “This all looks great.”
“Does this mean we get her?” Julio asked eagerly, rising to his feet. Willow hopped up, too, and stared up at Julio adoringly.
Brandon couldn’t help cooing. “Look at that. She loves you!”
Allison glanced at Rachael, hoping she’d say yes. Rachael flicked her ponytail over her shoulder and shot Julio a grin. “I’m not saying no. But we have to be fair and consider all potential adopters. We’ll let you know as soon as we make a decision.”
“Yay!” Julio shot a look at Brandon, who didn’t seem to share his enthusiasm. “You’re not excited, honey?”
Brandon slipped an arm around him and pulled him into a side hug. “I just don’t want you to be disappointed if it doesn’t work out. I hate to see you sad.” He leaned his head against Julio’s shoulder.
Allison melted. Their easy affection reminded her so much of her and Paul’s relationship. She knew right then and there she would do everything in her power to make sure Willow went home with them.
“Wednesday,” Brandon reminded her over his shoulder as he led Julio, who only had eyes for Willow, away. “Don’t forget.”
Allison held up the business card with its circled reminder. She didn’t know how she was going to convince Emily to drive down in the middle of the week, but she’d try.
Chapter 30
After the last potential adopters left, Rachael plopped down in the folding chair next to Allison, slumping down in her seat. “Whew! That was a marathon!”
Willow sprawled out on the floor between them, panting, her tongue dripping all over the polished concrete.
“I think she feels the same way.” Allison chuckled. “She was thoroughly meeted-and-greeted. I guess we should pick someone now?”
Rachael eyed her clip board with its stack of applications. “I know my vote. Do you have your pick?”
Allison nodded. “On three. One...two...Julio!”
“Leroy!” Rachael said at the same time. “Uh oh. I was hoping we were on the same page.”
“Leroy?” Allison made a face. “Why Leroy?”
“He’s got the biggest property. Plus Willow’s been an outside dog her whole life. It might be a tough transition to being a house pet.”
“She’s done fine!” Allison protested, although as soon as she said it, she realized that wasn’t exactly true. Willow had kept her awake almost every night and torn up the whole yard in just a few short weeks. “She’s housebroken, anyway,” she amended.
“Your turn,” Rachael said. “Why are you so keen on Julio?”
“He’s a huge Willow fan. He genuinely loves her and not just because she found Taylor. Plus I’ve seen him at work—he’s really patient with all the residents at Golden Gardens, so I know he’ll be kind to her.”
“No yard, though. And his boyfriend—”
“Fiancé,” Allison corrected.
“His fiancé doesn’t seem like a dog person. Forgive me for saying it, but he didn’t even pet her. And who could resist this fluffy marshmallow.” Rachael leaned over to rub Willow’s muzzle. Willow was so tired that she didn’t even lift her head from the floor, but she twitched her tail appreciatively.
“True, he didn’t.” Allison was quiet for a minute. Maybe she’d been too quick. Julio was a lovely person, but was their family the best fit if Brandon didn’t really want to live with a messy, loud, overly friendly dog? He seemed supportive of Julio, though. And it wasn’t like Leroy had any love for Willow except as a piece of farm machinery. “Leroy didn’t pet her, either. He just manhandled her to make sure he wouldn’t have any major vet bills.”
“True.” Now it was Rachael’s turn to be quiet. “There’s still the yard thing, though.”
“Julio will have a yard next week when he moves in with Brandon.”
“If he does. All my years of dog rescue have taught me that I can’t adopt a dog out based on a promise, though. There are too many unknowns. Where’s she going to stay during the move? How long will the move take? Who will help her transition if they’re both busy with w
ork?”
Allison’s heart sank. Rachael was right—Willow needed love, guidance, and stability. At Julio and Brandon’s house, she’d get plenty of love, but maybe not enough of the other two. And what had Brandon said? Sometimes love just ain’t enough.
“Maybe that retired couple, then?” she ventured. Her voice came out small and sad.
Rachael sighed. “I don’t know. I told you that I’d trust your instincts on this, and I don’t want to go back on my word. If you think Julio would be the best fit for Willow, I’ll sign off on it.”
Though that was what she had hoped to hear, somehow Rachael’s acquiescence didn’t make Allison feel better now that she doubted her own decision. “You’re right about it being a rough transition, though. And I’m not sure Brandon realizes just how much dirt and fur Willow will introduce to their lives.”
Rachael sat up in her chair. “What if we push off the decision until after Julio moves? Do you think your neighbors will mind if you keep her a while longer?”
Allison grinned, thinking of Taylor’s campaign against Willow’s adoption. He wouldn’t mind another couple of weeks with her around, and that would make up for any complaints she might receive. “I don’t think they’ll mind too much.”
“Great. Sleep on it and let me know when you decide.”
AT HOME, WILLOW LOUNGED in her hole while Allison ate her dinner on the back patio—a calzone she’d made with dough from the fridge. That was one of the tricks she’d learned since Paul moved into Golden Gardens and she was only baking for one—dough was patient, happy to wait in the fridge or freezer until she needed it. With her free hand, she messaged Emily.
“How was the shopping trip?”
The answer came quickly. “Great! Elaine even bought something.” A picture followed shortly of Elaine in a tasteful gray formal dress that complimented her salt-and-pepper hair.
“There’s a bridal boutique here in town,” Allison thumbed. “I made an appointment for Wednesday if you can make it down here.”
Three dots appeared at the bottom of the screen, then disappeared and reappeared several times. Emily was having trouble coming up with a response, it seemed. Allison gnawed her lip and added, “Don’t worry, I can cancel if you don’t want to go. I met the owner at the feed store today, and when he saw the pic of you at Bridal Depot, he insisted.”
This time, Emily’s reply came quickly. “MOM! You showed strangers at the feed store my dressing room pics?!”
This was going to take two thumbs. Allison put down her calzone and typed as fast as she could. “No! He saw over my shoulder. Anyway, he’s not a stranger. His name is Brandon.”
“If you met him today, he’s a stranger.” Emily added an angry-face emoji.
“He’s Julio’s fiancé,” Allison replied, hoping that would soothe her a little bit.
“Golden Gardens Julio?”
“Yep. Brandon’s shop is called The Big Day if you want to look up his Instagram. He cleared the schedule for you—and says there’ll be champagne.”
Emily didn’t answer right away, so Allison finished her calzone while she waited for her to reply and watched Willow’s dirt-bath-in-progress. Hopefully all that dirt would brush out as easily as the sticks and leaves had this morning.
Her phone buzzed again with Emily’s verdict. “Looks good. Elaine can make it Wednesday, but Zack has to work.”
Allison frowned as she texted back. “Does she have to come?”
“She’s paying for the wedding. So yeah, she does.”
Allison sent a thumbs up even though she felt sick to her stomach at the thought of spending a whole day with Elaine, faking friendly. And drawing Elaine to Remembrance was the last thing she wanted to do. But she had to play nice as long as Emily was involved, and at least at The Big Day, she wouldn’t have to pretend she wasn’t Emily’s mother.
And maybe by then, she’d have found the pen—and a new hiding place for it.
Chapter 31
Several long hours later, when dusk had long given up to dark, Allison abandoned her search. She’d dumped out every box and scoured the contents of every closet in the house, unloaded all the kitchen drawers, and emptied out the pantry, with no luck. She’d even checked the cookie jar and under the sinks in the kitchen and bathroom.
“Where would I put the stupid thing?” she muttered to Willow, who’d blocked the doorway between the dining room and the kitchen with her furry form. Allison racked her brain, trying to wring out every scrap of memory she had left. She remembered finding the pen, and then standing up to hide it somewhere in the house, but then—nothing, no matter how many times she ran through it. She shivered as she bumped against the edges of her torn-out memory. It was like hearing fingernails on a chalkboard. No wonder Paul was testy when she tried to remind him of their life together—he must feel like this all the time.
Willow stood up suddenly and, as though she had some eerie understanding of Allison’s question, stared up at the ceiling and barked twice in quick succession. Up there.
“I already looked upstairs,” Allison said irritably. She started reshelving the spices in the pantry, moving them quickly from the counter back to their rack. In her haste, the jar of ground cumin slipped from her hand and dashed to the floor, sending shards of glass skittering across the room. To her horror, Willow trotted over to check out the mess, yelping when a piece of broken glass pierced her paw.
She wrestled Willow out of the room, removed the glass, and bandaged her up as best she could. When she finished, Willow laid down in the front hall and began licking and tugging at the bandage, but at least she was occupied—and out of the danger zone in the kitchen. Allison wanted to cry as she grabbed the broom and dustpan and stooped to clean up the disaster. She felt stupid getting emotional over this of all things—it was just a jar of spices and she didn’t even like cumin. But it seemed like one mistake on top of another.
Mistakes and more mistakes.
She froze mid-sweep. Maybe Willow wasn’t barking at the second floor—maybe she was barking at the attic. The attic, where the card catalog of errors was stored. Maybe it would hold a clue as to where she’d hidden the pen, since clearly mistakes had been made. She dumped her dustpan of glass into the trash and ran upstairs to the landing, where the attic hatch marred the otherwise smooth ceiling. She pulled it open and yanked down the ladder, careful to avoid Willow, who’d limped up the stairs to investigate.
“Stay here,” Allison admonished, before making her way up the ladder into the dim attic. She hadn’t been up here since she first moved in, but her fingerprints in the dust on top of the card catalog were still visible, though shaded by a new, thinner layer of dust. She found her name in the “R” drawer, just ahead of Paul’s, and pulled out the most recent card.
It was dated yesterday. After the date and her name, it read, “Shut the guardian dog in her bedroom, allowing a burglar to enter the library.”
The card catalog was right. That was a mistake—a terrible mistake. If Willow had been standing guard at the back door, there was no way Elaine could have stolen the box or the pages from the Guardians book. Allison flipped to the previous card, but it was dated weeks ago and was about her former foster dog. Nothing about the pen, nor about Elaine. Whatever mistakes she’d made, the catalog of errors didn’t think they were significant. She replaced the cards and closed the drawer, feeling silly for following a dog’s advice.
She climbed back down the ladder rungs, pausing so Willow could move from the base and she could step onto the landing. “You got my hopes up,” she scolded the dog, as she swung the ladder back up into the ceiling and closed the hatch. “It’s not up there.”
Willow just sat their panting, impervious to the criticism. Of course she was—she was a dog; she didn’t understand English. Well, it was late. Time to get ready for bed. Allison brushed her teeth and slathered on night cream while Willow lazed on the landing. Tonight, she wouldn’t lock her up in the bedroom. If the dog barked, Allison would bel
ieve her. Elaine might know where the pen was hidden, but she wouldn’t get inside the house, not with Willow on duty.
Sprawled out on the floor, the elite alarm system let out a long, shuddering snore. Maybe it was worth bracing a chair under the front and back doorknobs, just in case. Her skin prickling, Allison started downstairs, but when she stepped over Willow to get to the stairs, the dog jumped up and blocked her way. Allison tried to push her aside, but Willow wouldn’t budge.
“I know—it’s bedtime,” Allison sighed. “I just need to double-check the doors, that’s all.”
Willow grunted, leaning against Allison’s legs until she stepped backward. Willow repeated the motion until she’d bullied Allison all the way to the bedroom. In a last-ditch attempt, Allison feinted in one direction and managed to step around her in the other, but when she tried to close the door behind her, Willow lunged, growling, and slammed into the door, sending Allison tumbling to the floor on the landing. It didn’t hurt, but it knocked the wind out of her.
She struggled to sit up, but Willow planted her feet on either side of Allison’s torso and huffed hot, smelly dog breath in her face until she gave up and lay back on the floorboards. Satisfied, Willow laid down beside her, her heavy head resting on Allison’s arm. Allison tried to relax, staring up at the ceiling. The attic hatch was right above her, reminding her of her last mistake—not listening to Willow.
“I guess maybe I should trust you.” Allison rolled to her side and pressed her forehead to Willow’s. Willow closed her eyes, pawing gently at Allison’s arm, begging for pets. She stroked the dog’s side a few times before she peeled herself off the hardwoods and headed back into the bedroom. Willow moved from the landing to her favored spot in the doorway and kept a watchful eye on Allison as she changed into pajamas and got into bed. It was too hot to sleep with a blanket, so Allison accordion-folded the quilt at the foot of the bed and snuggled under the top sheet.
