Page 75 of Undeniably Perfect

“Kent, is that your parents’ dog?” a guy coming out of the bar asks.

“Yeah, Dave. It’s Frito.”

The guy leans back inside the door of the bar. “Hey, the Moores’ dog is out. Come help.”

Five more guys pile out, followed by the kid from the ice cream shop, a barista from the coffee shop, and a young couple out for a walk. Cars stop and wait for us to chase Frito who clearly thinks this is the best game of dog tag ever played. For a big dog, Frito can run. We all seem to have him corralled when a patron at the coffee shop comes out carrying a tray of coffees. Frito takes the opportunity to run full speed into the coffee shop. The woman throws the tray in the air, coffee raining down on her and Dave who’s closest to her.

“Shit!” she yelps.

“Sorry, Robin!” Mr. Moore’s voice calls out from across the street. I look over and the Moores are now heading our way with a leash.

Robin shrugs and the barista yells that she’ll make new ones. By the time we all get into the coffee shop, Frito is lying on a sofa, lapping spilled coffee off a table. An old man pets her.

“Frito just wanted a mocha latte,” he says with a laugh.

“Frito!” Mrs. Moore scolds as she heads over to the dog.

Frito, who was oblivious to the Moores a moment ago, suddenly looks sheepish and guilty. She puts her head down on the sofa and tucks her tail between her legs.

“Really, you’re going to grow a conscience now?” Mr. Moore says with a raised eyebrow.

“Thanks, everyone. Coffees on me if you want one.”

A line forms and Mr. Moore tells the barista to put them on his tab. She nods and starts filling the orders. The Moores chat with a few of the people, before heading over to us.

“Never a dull moment,” Kent says with a laugh as he runs a hand through his hair and looks down at Frito. “Dog, if I don’t know better, I’d swear you were a damn cat.”

“A cat?” I ask.

“Yeah, this is definitely more than the ninth time she’s gotten out.”

I laugh. “I see.”

“And she always comes here or the ice cream shop,” Mrs. Moore points out. “My girl loves herself some sweets. Don’t you, baby.” Frito licks her hand. “Now, how can I be mad at a face like that?”

“Oh, you can be mad alright,” Mr. Moore states as he tries to give Frito an angry look but epically fails when she licks his hand.

“That dog is more spoiled than any of us kids ever were.”

Mrs. Moore pats Kent’s cheek. “I spoiled you, sweet cheeks. You just don’t want to admit it. Now, you better get home and get a good night’s sleep.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Thanks for helping, Tabby. We’ll see you tomorrow,” she says as she leans in to hug me.

“See you tomorrow,” I reply with a small wave as Kent takes my hand and leads me out of the coffee shop.

We walk in silence for a few blocks until I can no longer contain my giggles.

“What’s so funny?”

“Episode forty-three, Mayberry to the Rescue,” is all I manage before my giggles turn into full-blown laughter.

Kent shakes his head but can’t stop his lips from curling into a grin. “You’re too much, you know that?”

I shrug. “I’m just me.”

He squeezes my hand. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

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