Page 80 of Novel Problems

I ran back into Novel Gossip and left my satchel on one of the café’s tables, and then went back out to join George and Max.

“I don’t think the hat is going to last long,” George said, just as Max rubbed his head against the lamppost, dislodging his hat in the process. “Yep, okay, I’ll just carry that until we’re down at the waterfront.”

We walked along Main Street in time with a group of cheerleaders from the local high school dressed in blue-and-white Lycra tops and matching skirts or shorts, shiny blue pom poms waving wildly. I’d never been the cheerleading type, but their enthusiasm was contagious, and my step had a decided bounce to it.

Dockside Park was buzzing with energy when we arrived. Lines had formed in front of food and drink stalls, kids were screaming with glee as they launched themselves into the air on colorful jumping castles, and a bluegrass band was playing from a stage on the opposite side of the park. Groups of locals sat on picnic blankets or folding chairs, listening to the music. The scent of barbecued meats and hot fries hung in the air. I spotted even more Novel Gossip regulars, many of whom said hi or gave us a wave in acknowledgement. On the other side of the park, the Hudson River sparkled in the sunlight, a deep blue reflecting the almost cloudless sky.

“Wow, this is amazing!” I said, taking it all in. There’d never been anything like this growing up in Chicago or on the Upper West Side. This level of community spirit was completely foreign to me, but I absolutely loved it.

George grinned. “It’s one of my favorite days of the year.” She tugged at Max’s leash to stop him from going after a toddler holding a half-eaten hot dog, tomato sauce smeared all over her face. “Now, where is the pet p?—”

“Hey! Are you guys heading to the pet parade?” Jenny walked into our line of sight, holding an extremely handsome golden-brown toy poodle—her dog, Walter. A white wig and navy tricorn hat adorned his head, which was framed by white ruffles around his collar. A tiny waistcoat with a small Declaration of Independence attached to it completedthe outfit.

George nodded, and Jenny showed us the way while I gushed over how cute Walter looked. As much as I loved Max to bits, there was no way he was winning the competition with Walter in contention. We arrived at a small stage near a large oak tree where a number of pets and their owners had gathered. Unsurprisingly, there were a lot of dogs, but other animals were featured as well, some much more surprising. The two alpacas we’d seen earlier in the parade were now wearing matching red hats with white stars, large American flags attached to their backs. A turtle had blue and red tinsel on its shell, a white hat perched on top. There was even a green-and-yellow parrot in a bird cage who seemed to be lacking any decorations.

The sun’s rays were still strong, so we stood under a tree, chatting with Jenny, and were soon joined by Blake, who’d decided not to involve her cat in the competition but had come to cheer on Walter. Max quickly fell asleep, snoring at our feet.

The MC started calling pets and their owners to walk across the stage in front of the three judges.

George knelt down next to Max and gave him a pat. “Okay, Max, it could be our turn any minute. Let’s get this hat on you, big fella, before they call you up.” He snorted but didn’t rouse.

I gazed down at George. “Your dog seems to sleep as soundly as you do,” I said, smiling.

Our eyes locked, and George grinned back at me, sending a burst of warmth through my veins. George’s impressive ability to sleep through Max’s snoring and her mom puttering around the kitchen loudly in the mornings had been the subject of some gentle teasing from me over the past few days.

George chuckled and gave him a gentle shake.

“C’mon, Max.” He opened one eye and glared at her before closing it again.

“Maybe he’s just waiting for the official announcement,” I offered.

George got to her feet, shaking her head. “Yeah, maybe.” She didn’t sound convinced.

The MC announced Walter’s name, and Walter, accompanied by Jenny, walked in a very stately manner up onto the stage, unfazed by clapping from the onlookers.

“Wow, he’s a pro,” I murmured to George.

“Yeah, Jenny used to dress him up all the time for social media, so he’s used to it,” George said as she watched them.

Stevie, the parrot, was called up next, now wearing a little red-white-and-blue frilly collar around its neck. Stevie perched on its owner’s hand, singing “America the Beautiful.” I turned down my hearing aid temporarily. As impressive as Stevie’s vocal range was, she—or he, I wasn’t sure—was a little screechy.

Two alpacas followed Stevie, and then Max was called.

“Max, it’s your time to shine,” George said. But Max was in a deep sleep, twitching as though he might be dreaming about chasing squirrels. “Max!” I patted his head and then tugged gently on his lead.

George tried to push his butt up. Nothing.

We looked at each other, shaking our heads. At this point, if Max had been my dog, I would have given up. But George was clearly keen to give Max his minute of glory. She bent at the knees and enveloped Max in a bear hug. I held Max’s lead as George carried him toward the stage, wobbling up the stairs and depositing him at the top.

“Come on, Max!” George said encouragingly.

Awake now, Max just stood at the edge of the stage and stared at her, unimpressed.

I tugged gently on the lead without any success. Conscious that we had about fifty people’s eyes on us, I looked around for inspiration and spotted a man walking past, digging into a German sausage with mustard.

“I’ll go halves with you on a sausage if you come with me. See, sausage!” I pointed at the man.

Max sprang up, giving my arms a vigorous yank, and bounded across the stage, in pursuit of the unsuspecting sausage eater, his hat falling off his head again in the process. George rushed to help me, and I briefly registered some applause and laughter as we wrestled Max back under control.

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