beds.”
Right. She probably had people for that.
I stopped smiling. “Did you ever hear that story about Santa Claus making his list and checking it twice?”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re pathetic.” And she stalked away.
The missing iPad was located as I was putting Mischief into her crate and happened to notice something hard under her cushion. I drew it out with a wince, quickly polished off the dog hair and slobber, and scolded Mischief in a hiss, “Don’t you ever do anything like that again!”
She looked at me as though she had no idea what I was talking about and settled down on her cushion with a huff. I looked guiltily over my shoulder as I straightened up, hoping there was no permanent damage, then called out cheerfully, “Melanie! Found your iPad.”
____________
NINE
C isco looked at me hopefully as I opened the front door, and because I thought it might be nice to have someone along for the ride who actually knew how to pretend to be interested in what I had to say, I told him, “Okay, load up.” He bounded through the door and Melanie, once more connected to her precious electronic tablet, trundled after him.
The morning was brisk and bright, with a white winter sun casting pale shadows through the spindly branches of naked trees. The layered mountains ranged in tone from sepia to lavender to phthalo blue, and I thought again about Christmas tree-hunting with my dad, the smell of evergreen and the bite of frost. I glanced at Melanie as I opened the back door of the SUV for Cisco and realized how sad it was for a little girl not to have those kinds of memories of her father. I felt slightly more kindly disposed toward her until she watched me fasten Cisco into his harness and seat belt, and she commented contemptuously, “A seat belt for a dog? That’s stupid.”
She flung herself into the passenger seat and slammed the door. I walked around to the driver’s side without a word. I started the engine and waited, fixing her with my silent gaze, until she favored me with another one of her elaborate eye rolls and jerked her seat belt into its snapped position. I put the car in gear and started down the driveway, humming “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” under my breath. Melanie inserted her ear buds and fixed her eyes on the screen of her iPad.
My house is set well back from the highway in the shelter of the mountain, with a gravel driveway that’s a little under a quarter of a mile long. There is a slight curve to it, so while I can’t see the highway from the house, I can usually see anyone who is coming down my driveway long before they reach me. My mailbox is at the end of the driveway, and that was where, as I slowed to make my turn, I noticed a cardboard box sitting on the ground.
My postman always brings boxes to the house, and if I’m not home, he leaves them on the porch. So does UPS. So do all the reputable delivery services, which is why I thought, when I first glanced at it, that the box had probably blown off the back of someone’s truck on the way to the dump. It did look a little battered and seemed to be held together with duct tape.
From the backseat, Cisco barked. Barking in the car was definitely not allowed and I spoke sharply to him, surprised. When I glanced in the rearview mirror, he had two paws on the window frame, straining against his seatbelt, and he barked sharply again. That was when I saw the box, seemingly of its own volition, roll slowly into the road.
Even though I was already practically at a stop, my foot hit the brake so hard that Cisco lost his balance, plopping all four paws back onto the bench seat, and my seat belt locked. Melanie plucked the ear buds out of her ears and stared at me. I slammed the car into Park and snatched the keys out of the ignition as I opened my door. “Stay here,” I commanded her, and ran into the highway.
I could hear the yipping as
Right. She probably had people for that.
I stopped smiling. “Did you ever hear that story about Santa Claus making his list and checking it twice?”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re pathetic.” And she stalked away.
The missing iPad was located as I was putting Mischief into her crate and happened to notice something hard under her cushion. I drew it out with a wince, quickly polished off the dog hair and slobber, and scolded Mischief in a hiss, “Don’t you ever do anything like that again!”
She looked at me as though she had no idea what I was talking about and settled down on her cushion with a huff. I looked guiltily over my shoulder as I straightened up, hoping there was no permanent damage, then called out cheerfully, “Melanie! Found your iPad.”
____________
NINE
C isco looked at me hopefully as I opened the front door, and because I thought it might be nice to have someone along for the ride who actually knew how to pretend to be interested in what I had to say, I told him, “Okay, load up.” He bounded through the door and Melanie, once more connected to her precious electronic tablet, trundled after him.
The morning was brisk and bright, with a white winter sun casting pale shadows through the spindly branches of naked trees. The layered mountains ranged in tone from sepia to lavender to phthalo blue, and I thought again about Christmas tree-hunting with my dad, the smell of evergreen and the bite of frost. I glanced at Melanie as I opened the back door of the SUV for Cisco and realized how sad it was for a little girl not to have those kinds of memories of her father. I felt slightly more kindly disposed toward her until she watched me fasten Cisco into his harness and seat belt, and she commented contemptuously, “A seat belt for a dog? That’s stupid.”
She flung herself into the passenger seat and slammed the door. I walked around to the driver’s side without a word. I started the engine and waited, fixing her with my silent gaze, until she favored me with another one of her elaborate eye rolls and jerked her seat belt into its snapped position. I put the car in gear and started down the driveway, humming “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” under my breath. Melanie inserted her ear buds and fixed her eyes on the screen of her iPad.
My house is set well back from the highway in the shelter of the mountain, with a gravel driveway that’s a little under a quarter of a mile long. There is a slight curve to it, so while I can’t see the highway from the house, I can usually see anyone who is coming down my driveway long before they reach me. My mailbox is at the end of the driveway, and that was where, as I slowed to make my turn, I noticed a cardboard box sitting on the ground.
My postman always brings boxes to the house, and if I’m not home, he leaves them on the porch. So does UPS. So do all the reputable delivery services, which is why I thought, when I first glanced at it, that the box had probably blown off the back of someone’s truck on the way to the dump. It did look a little battered and seemed to be held together with duct tape.
From the backseat, Cisco barked. Barking in the car was definitely not allowed and I spoke sharply to him, surprised. When I glanced in the rearview mirror, he had two paws on the window frame, straining against his seatbelt, and he barked sharply again. That was when I saw the box, seemingly of its own volition, roll slowly into the road.
Even though I was already practically at a stop, my foot hit the brake so hard that Cisco lost his balance, plopping all four paws back onto the bench seat, and my seat belt locked. Melanie plucked the ear buds out of her ears and stared at me. I slammed the car into Park and snatched the keys out of the ignition as I opened my door. “Stay here,” I commanded her, and ran into the highway.
I could hear the yipping as
Similar Books
