Page 53 of The Goode Girls of Maple Lane
“Everett—”
“One minute. I swear.” He pleads with his pretty hazel eyes.
I frown at him, wondering if I should push back, but deciding there isn’t much point.
“Okay. Thank you.” I kiss his cheek and leave him to it as I trudge over to join Aggie at her wagon, crouching down to adjust her hood so I can give her neck a good long scratch. When considerably more than a minute passes and my patience dwindles, I lean in and whisper, “What do you think? Should we remind him this is supposed to be fun?”
She bunts my nose with hers, panting out little clouds of warm, meaty dog breath. It’s an ambiguous reply but I take it as a definitive yes, and make a snowball I toss at Everett’s back. It hits his neckinstead, bursting on impact and spraying his bare neck above his scarf.
He spins toward us, wide-eyed. “What the—”
I point at Aggie. “I tried to stop her. But you know how much she likes to flirt with you.”
He pockets his phone as a sly smile dimples his cheeks. “So that was flirting, huh?”
I pretend to consider. “I mean... it wasn’tnotflirting.”
His eyes narrow. “Oh, you’re going down, Goode.”
With a swiftness I didn’t see coming, he lunges toward me, his arms spread wide until they clamp around me and we topple into the snow. I shriek with surprise as we roll over one another. Aggie barks from her wagon, pushing into a seated position before easing herself off the open side so she can trot over to join us. I usually help her with level changes, but she manages this one on her own, just like she’s been growing more comfortable getting on and off the futon on her own. It makes me so happy to see her becoming more mobile and independent, and when she pushes her nose between our faces like she’s determined to be part of the game, we invite her in, laughing and teasing, until all three of us are rolling in the snow like little kids.
Everett gets me back for my snowball by sneaking one in as I scramble away from him. It hits the side of my face with a shock of cold that makes me shriek again. I duck around the tree and fire back, missing Everett completely. He hides behind Aggie—who seems to have taken his side, to no one’s surprise—readying another snowball and sending it my way. It smacks the tree at shoulder height, dusting my face with snow for the second time. We end up chasing each other around the tree, the bench, the wagon, andAggie, madly making snowballs and pitching them as we run while Aggie wags her tail and barks encouragement at us, sometimes joining the fray but mostly spurring on our mischief from a gentle mound of snow.
It’s chaos. It’s fun. It’s joy. It’s perfect. And when Everett catches me by the hem of my coat and pins me against the tree for a long, hot, knee-buckling kiss while Aggie pulls off her front booties like she’s done being both a cheerleader and a spokesperson, it’s even better. This is her being herself, and us being ourselves, and all of it is for no one’s eyes but our own.
“I vote we hit pause on the sponsorship video for the rest of the day and head home for towels, belly rubs, hot cocoa, and gingerbread cookies,” I say when the kiss ends.
Everett’s brow furrows with confusion. “You have cocoa and cookies?”
I give his chest a light shove as I push off from the tree and sidle past him.
“Someonestocked my entire kitchen a week ago,” I say.
He looks over at Aggie, lying peacefully in the snow with her front booties off.
“What a sweet idea, Aggie!” he says. “I knew you’d take good care of my girl.”
I roll my eyes because it’s the intended response, but I can’t help smiling.
My girl.
Two simple words.
A million complicated feelings.
A heart that somehow has room for all of them, and for even more to come.
Chapter Twenty-One
For a long, cold, dark month, January speeds by, full of highs, lows, and everything in between.
Sponsorship is mostly positive. On our second attempt, Everett gets the footage he wants for the first sponsored TikTok, with Aggie and me playing ball in the snow and a great shot of her doing a slow turn in the booties and coat. The video he edits together is extremely cute, the live footage intercut with sketch-like animated graphics. It’s so polished, it’s practically a short film. Her orthopedic bed arrives the following week and I make the TikTok on my own. It’s simpler than involving Everett, and getting Aggie to lie on a comfortable bed and look happy takes no effort at all. The toy box arrives a couple days later. I invite Minh Ha and Pilot over and the two dogs open the box together, pulling out balls, chew bones, rope tugs, and squeaky stuffies with equal fervor, until my floor is strewn with toys while Aggie flops onto her bed with a furry yellow squeaky ball and Pilot curls up against her with a stuffed duck that’s as big as she is. Everett films and edits again even though it complicates things. He really wanted to do it, he did an amazing job with the first sponsorship video, and I appreciate that I get to sitback and enjoy watching Aggie and Pilot unbox the toys while he takes care of filming.
The income lets me cut my cleaning hours back down to two days a week, and with Everett’s gentle but persistent encouragement, I commit to a few more sponsorships. I’m less daunted by them now but I find myself caring more about follower numbers, knowing they’ll impact my income. I spend time answering more comments and engaging on other dog-oriented accounts, some of which is fun and instinctive, but not all of it. A hum of pressure builds to do more and say more, and to fit Aggie’s “brand,” making me miss the simplicity of posting and commenting on what I want when I want, without worrying what it might mean for sponsorship deals.
However, with more time to study, I ace my pathology final when Dr. Stean lets me retake it. I’m still questioning my degree, and whether it’s really worth it, especially when my term-two loan statement arrives, but I shove it in the drawer with the others and attend to more immediate financial matters instead.
Regina’s shirts earn an incredible $3,000 in profits in their first month, which she splits with me fifty-fifty, as promised. She tells me not to expect similar numbers every month, since sales naturally surged after the initial promotion and will likely decrease in coming weeks, but for the first time since I started grad school, between the shirts and the sponsorships, I pay down my credit card so it doesn’t get canceled again when I most need it and I buy groceries without panic-tallying the cost before I reach the register. I also get Aggie caught up on some important vet visits involving orthopedic monitoring and metabolic tests that go beyond the weigh-ins and general checkups Ruff ’n’ Rescue has been providingus for free. The money seemed like so much in abstract numbers, but when translated into real-world expenses, it disappears fast.
