Page 27 of The Goode Girls of Maple Lane
My dad nods slowly, echoing, “Perfect,” so quietly I almost don’t hear it. He was the one to bring Marmie home as a puppy, and she was as much his as she was mine or my mom’s.
“Are you dog-sitting for a friend?” my mom asks with what I suspect is equal curiosity about the dog and the hypothetical friend I haven’t told her about.
“Um. Well. No,” I manage. Then I tell my parents about the foster applications I filed last year, the call from the shelter, the rehabilitation plan, and the adoption papers I signed before bringing Aggie home. “I fell in love. And I think I needed her as much as she needed me.”
“Of course you did,” my mom says. “Who wouldn’t fall in love with that face? And you’ll get her weight down in no time. What an angel. I hope you send melotsof pictures.”
I almost laugh as I tell her about the TikTok account, and how I’ll be posting updates there. She’s not currently on TikTok, but I bet she will be within minutes of ending the call.
She sets a hand on my dad’s shoulder. “Look at that face, Hank!”
He nods again and musters a smile, but remains notably quiet. It’s tough. I know he’s happy to have a dog in the family again, but I can practically hear the questions he’s not asking. Questions about how much taking care of a pet with major health issues costs.
“Hank?” my mom repeats. “Don’t you have anything to say?”
He looks at me, looks at Aggie, and looks at me again.
“It’s a big responsibility,” he says.
“I know,” I say, already tensing again.
“With everything you have going on...”
“All of which I’m aware of.”
“Are you still working at that pizza place? And only weekends at the fancy soap store?”
“I’m”—I cringe as I search for an acceptable answer—“dealing with the job situation.”
Another beat of silence. Not a long one, but a heavy one.
“Cameron,” he says.
“Dad,” I say back.
“I just want to ensure you’re making smart choices,” he says with unfortunate predictability, and I know bysmart, he meansaffordable. I also know there’s no arguing him out of this position, even while he’s gazing with warm affection at Aggie.
I’d planned on introducing my parents to Aggie, telling them wewere spending the holidays here, and then asking if they’d loan me the money they would’ve put toward a plane ticket, which should be enough to cover what I can’t of my November rent while I keep hunting for work. But if we’re already talking about smart choices, asking for a loan will only invite a lecture, a lecture will become a fight, and I’d rather leave the conversation on a positive note.
“Actually, I have to run,” I say. “I just wanted you to meet Aggie. And to let you know we’ll be spending the holiday break here, so I won’t need that plane ticket. But thank you for offering and we’ll find another time to visit, maybe in the summer when classes are out.”
“Oh, I hope so!” my mom exclaims.
My dad nods and smiles. He’s trying. It’s something.
We sign off with the usualI love yous, which we all mean, though it’s a complicated love, making me extra grateful for the soft, sweet head that’s still resting on my lap, soaking up my affection like it’s all she needs to make her world go around.
“What do you think?” I ask as Aggie lifts her head and blinks up at me. “Can you handle two or three nights a week on your own if I can sort out some cleaning work?”
She looks at me for a few seconds. Then she grabs her monkey and drops it in my lap.
“Oh my god. You’re killing me!” I moan, but I pick up the monkey and we play for a few minutes as I hold it just out of her reach and then let her snatch it from my hand and shake it in a way that gets her tail wagging. When she refuses to give it up again and sets to chewing it, reveling in the sound from the squeaker, I locate Khalil’s number and shoot him a text.
Chapter Ten
I’m still in bed Sunday morning at around nine, lazily leaning over the side to pet Aggie while talking myself into getting up, when I hear a carefully controlled light rap on my door.
Aggie lets out a trio of cheerful barks. I’d like to think they’re because she knows who’s at the door, but I suspect she’d greet anyone who knocked with a similar welcome.
