Page 32 of Must Love Dogs… and Hockey

“Sorry,” I say to the woman. “He’s got issues.”

Lilly bends to pat the small dog, a ridiculous fluff ball with a pink tongue. “Hi there. Aren’t you cute?”

Seeing Lilly let the dog sniff her hand, Otis gets braver and edges closer. I keep an eye on him.

“What’s his name? Or her name?” Lilly asks the woman.

“Daisy.”

“Hi, Daisy. You’re so pretty.”

Otis is right in there now.

“I walk dogs for a living,” Lilly says, handing the woman a card. “If you ever need help.”

With a smile, the woman and Daisy continue on. The light changes and we start across the street. “I think you made Otis jealous,” I comment.

Lilly laughs. “Maybe. You should take him to the dog run sometime so he can be off the leash and make friends.”

“Uh. Okay.”

We continue chatting until we enter the park. It’s Sunday morning and people are walking and running on the paths. Lilly knows the way to the little restaurant I was thinking of. We watch some kids climbing rocks and playing hide-and-seek, and many dogs, and then we arrive at our destination. We’re lucky enough to snag a table right away, and Lilly sits there with Otis while I go in to get coffees and breakfast sandwiches—egg, avocado, and cheddar cheese on a brioche bun.

The smell of fresh-baked bread has my stomach growling. Guess that toast wasn’t enough.

I carry our food back outside. The walk has tuckered Otis out, thankfully, and he’s sprawled at Lilly’s feet. She has her face turned to the sun, her dark hair blazing with fiery highlights, her eyes closed. When I set down the tray, she opens her eyes and smiles. “This is so nice.”

“Yeah. Great to have this kind of weather.”

She takes her coffee and we arrange our food in front of us to eat. “Is it colder than this in Regina?”

“Oh hell yeah.” I laugh. “And lots more snow.”

“You came here from Vancouver, though, you said, right?”

She remembers. “Yeah. Nice weather there too, although it rains a lot.”

“I’ve always wanted to go there. I’ve never been to Canada.”

“That’s shocking. Okay, no it’s not. I hang out with hockey people, so when I meet people who haven’t been to Canada I’m always surprised. I shouldn’t be.”

“I think it must be a nice place.”

I smile slowly. “It’s okay.”

She picks up her coffee cup and takes a sip.

“How long have you lived in New York?” I ask. “Did you grow up here?”

“I grew up in Syracuse. I came here to go to college. So…eight years.”

“After college you wanted to stay?”

“Yeah. I met my girlfriends—Carlin, my roommate, and a couple of other friends—and we all wanted to stay here and stay together. I got a good job right out of college, and then I got another, better job, and Carlin and I found our fantastic apartment, which isn’t easy to do here.”

“That’s true. I found that out.” I shake my head. “I make pretty good money, but it’s expensive living here.”

“Right?”

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