Page 71 of In the Nick of Time
Doug peered up and down the grimy hallway, but no doors opened to see what was going on. The building probably had its fair share of late-night activity, and the tenants weren’t generally in a hurry to find out what the noise was.
A quick glance was all he needed to know that Esther wasn’t in the living room or kitchen. The bedroom Doug checked was Melvin’s if the amount of Elvis-style costumes draped across the bed, hanging on one side of the closet door, and vomiting out of the other side was any indication.
“Here she is, Doug,” Nick called out from a room down the hall. “Still alive.”
Doug felt his shoulders relax for the first time in a while.
EPILOGUE
“Where were you? And what’s that?” Nick’s voice floated down to the street from their front porch.
Damn, he’d hoped to surprise his partner by getting up extra early and taking care of what he’d needed to take care of. It had been established that Nick was not a morning person. But one thing he’d learned in the past year was that surprising Nick Sedgewick was very difficult. The man had the instincts of a bloodhound when it came to secrets.
Slowing his pace, Doug looked up. “What does it look like?” He steered it around a bump in the sidewalk.
“A baby buggy? A stroller? Is there something you forgot to tell me?”
Carefully, Doug lifted the buggy and started up the stairs. “Like what? ‘Honey, I birthed a child and never told you?’”
“Okay, if you put it that way.”
Reaching the top of the steps, Doug gently set the pet stroller down on the deck. A quick peek assured him that the contents were still asleep.
“The buggy is for Tim. He’s always bitching about us carrying him—or leaving him behind—so I thought this would be a good idea.” Doug looked around. “Where is he, anyway?”
“Where do you think? Basking in the sunroom you built for him.”
“Of course he is.”
Doug rolled the pet carrier closer to the porch swing. Nick had been reading and enjoying his morning caffeine fix. Reluctantly, he set the book aside.
“Tah-dah!” Doug took a minute to realize how much life had changed; he never saidtah-dahlike that Before Nick.
“Yes, I see,” Nick said dryly. “That’s a very fancy stroller. Tim will love it. We can take him for beers now. Good on you. Why did you have to get up at the ass crack of dawn to go get one?”
Other times Nick could be incredibly obtuse. This was one of those times.
Doug didn’t do many things on the spur of the moment, but when he’d driven past the animal shelter last week, he’d felt an impossible-to-ignore urge to go inside. An hour later, he’d been filling out adoption papers and he’d picked up the puppy this morning while Nick was still asleep.
“Nick.”
“What? I’m comfy over here.”
“Look inside the stroller.”
With a sigh, Nick got to his feet. “What’s inside? Another tortoise? A talking boa constrictor?”
“Just fucking look already.”
Nick froze by the buggy. “Oh.” He looked down at the sleeping puppy and back up at Doug. “Is this for real?”
“Yes, this is for real.”
“I’ve missed having a dog so much.” Nick had told Doug how having a dog as a kid was one of his best memories of his parents.
“I know you have. You should name her. She came with Vanessa, but I think she needs a name we give her.”
“Vanessa is a stupid name for a dog.”
