Page 130 of Perfume Girl
“Are you going out?” I was surprised that something had gotten him so worried. “Be careful, okay?”
Astor hesitated by the front door. “My coat’s still wet? I’ll just have to brave it.” He stepped out, raising a hand to shield his face against the gusting wind and rain. “It’s coming from over there.”
“Hold on, I’m coming with you.”
“Stay inside.” Astor hurried away.
I stood in the doorway and watched him go, reluctant to lose sight of him. Rain battered my face but I didn’t care, I just wanted him to be safe out there. Flying debris was a real hazard.
He knelt behind a car and tried to coax something out from beneath it.
I looked back into the store wishing I had brought towels down with us. Astor was getting soaked to the skin again.
He headed back toward me holding the collar of a dog. As they drew closer I could see it was some kind of hound with a long nose and floppy ears. The animal was cowering and kept glancing up at Astor as though aware he was being saved.
Astor pulled him into the store. “Sorry about the mess.”
I stepped back and closed the door behind them. “It’s fine, of course.”
The dog shook his body and water spattered us both, making us laugh.
I knelt to pat the dog. “Hello, boy, what’s your name?”
His tail wagged with happiness.
Astor ran his fingers along the collar, at the same time fighting off a lick from the animal. “There’s no tag. He might be chipped. He’s still a puppy.”
“How can you tell?” He looked big to me.
“No plaque on his teeth. They don’t get that until they’re a year old.”
“Did you have a dog once?”
Astor stared up at me. “Yes, I had to leave him behind when I was sent to Cuba.”
It made me cringe to think they had done such a thing to him.
“I loved that dog. He was a Labrador.”
“What was his name?”
Astor shrugged and focused on the wet hound. “Maybe someone’s reported him missing.”
I rubbed my hand over the dog’s damp head. “His owner must be worried sick.”
“Let’s get him some water and dry him off.”
We led him into the back of the store and Astor found a dish and filled it with water. I grabbed towels and within a few minutes we had a much drier dog.
It was fun to watch Astor playing with him. It was one of the things I loved the most about him—the way he loved animals and the lengths he’d go to in order to save them.
I made us tea and we let the dog run loose to explore the place and give him time to feel safe again. Astor and I sipped our drinks in the front of the store while sitting on the chaise lounge watching him sniff around. Every now and again he’d come over to us for a pat on the head.
“He’s adorable,” I said.
“I’m going to call him Caine.”
I laughed. “As in Hurricane?”
