Page 2 of Last Date
I frowned. “No. He never tells me stuff about police business.”
“Couldn’t hurt to ask. You should take him to lunch, you know, just as a friend. See if you can getsomethingout of him.”
“Nope. I’m not going to do that, Helen.” I stepped outside into the brisk morning, tucking my chin into the collar of my coat to ward off the chill. I watched the dogs run and play together, feeling more cheerful at the sight. It would be so awesome if humans were more like dogs. Unlike complicated human interactions, dogs made things so beautifully simple. They either liked you or they didn’t. They didn’t talk about you behind your back one day and smile in your face the next.
“Is he still seeing that Peter fella?” she called out.
I gritted my teeth at her question because, yes, Merrick was indeed still seeing that “Peter fella.” Not wanting to fixate on that fact, I pretended not to hear her and moved toward the dogs. Merrick and I had a complicated relationship, and I didn’t really like thinking about it too often.
Until very recently, I’d pretty much loathed Merrick. He was my older brother Thomas’ best friend and my childhood tormentor. We’d patched things up a bit a few months back, but to say we were now friends would be overstating things. However, I no longer reviled him, which almost made things worse. At least when I’d hated him I’d known what those emotions were. Now we were in a sort of gray area with each other, which felt twice as awkward.
Trying to shake off gloomy thoughts, I grabbed a tennis ball from the ground and tossed it as far as I could. The dogs took off after the ball, and I smiled at their unbridled enthusiasm. There were people in the world with real problems. I had plenty to be grateful for, and fixating on things I had no control over helped nothing. Merrick and Peter seemed happy together by all accounts. More power to them. It wasn’t their fault I couldn’t find someone to fall in love with.
I probably felt like more of a loser than usual simply because Valentine’s Day was at the end of the week. Nothing put pressure on single people like that ridiculous holiday. It wasn’t even like the idea of sitting in an overcrowded, overpriced restaurant with a date I hardly knew appealed to me. If anything, it was kind of demeaning the way the restaurants moved customers through like cattle, simply so they could turn tables faster. But sitting home alone on Valentine’s Day wasn’t any better. It made one feel like they’d landed on the Island of Misfit Toys. It was hard not to feel rejected in the eyes of society when you flew solo on Valentine’s Day.
My cell rang, and I fished it from my pocket. “Red Leash Dog Walking, Kip speaking, how may I help?”
A soft female voice came over the line. “My dog is a monster, and I don’t know what to do with him.”
“Uh… when you say ‘monster,’ what exactly do you mean?” I wasn’t a professional dog trainer. I ran a dog walking service, but often people didn’t seem to recognize the difference.
“He chewed up my couch when I was at work, and he won’t sit still. Ever. He keeps getting into the neighbor’s yard, and they’re not happy about it.” She let out a shaky breath. “I might have to send him back to the pound where I got him.”
My stomach dropped. “Wait. Don’t do that. Um… maybe he’s simply not getting enough exercise. Do you walk him regularly?” There was a strained silence, which equaled “no” to me. “I don’t train dogs, but I do know that a high-energy dog that doesn’t get enough exercise can be a problem.”
“I… I simply don’t have time.”
Making sure I sounded nonjudgmental, I said, “You probably work long hours?”
“Yes.”
“That’s why I started my business. People don’t always have time to take their pets for long walks when they get home from a tiring day. Red Leash is here to help.”
She gave a funny laugh. “You sound like an infomercial.”
I smiled. “Do I? I just really love dogs, and I want to help people.”
“How much do you cost?”
I grimaced. “Well, we’d need to figure out what your needs are, and then I could give you a quote.”
“My needs are that I need my dog not to eat my furniture.”
“Of course. Well, before you do anything rash, like sending the dog back, how about we try an experiment?”
“What kind of experiment?” In the background, I heard a dog barking. “Can you hear him? He’s really driving me insane. I don’t know if I can do this.”
Squeezing my phone, I said, “How about this: I’ll walk your dog for free for one week. If you don’t see any kind of improvement in his behavior, then you’ll have to do what you feel you need to do. But at least give me a shot.”
“Free?” Her voice perked up. “Or is this like a gimmick?”
“I’m being dead serious.” The idea of her taking that dog back to the pound made my stomach churn. He wouldn’t understand why she never returned to get him. He’d just feel abandoned. He would be abandoned. “One free week of my services at no cost to you.”
“That… that’s mighty generous of you.” She no longer sounded suspicious; she sounded relieved. “Do you really think it might help?”
“I’m cautiously optimistic.”
“Okay. I’ll try you out.”
