at Summer skeptically, taken her hand, and led her back to the puppies, who were tumbling over each other, happy, careless balls of fur and sharp puppy teeth.
WHEN SHE CAME back to herself, ten minutes had passed. She stood and dusted off her knees, a little confused. She remembered that moment so clearly that she could picture the clothes they were wearing, the color of the roses in bloom, but Tavey’s grandfather would never have let them play with the puppies, not unsupervised.
She shook it off for the moment and hobbled on legs that had fallen asleep to the little cross that lay, tilted a little, under the shade of the big tree. She stood looking down at it, head bent as if in prayer, and maybe she was praying.
“I miss you forever.”
And with that she turned and made her awkward way across the circle and back to her studio, wishing she had time for a green tea latte. She needed a caffeine boost if she was going to be all calm and soothing for these folks.
ONCE HER CLASS was over, she showered and changed quickly into jeans, a long-sleeve T-shirt, a jacket, and coral UGGs. She made sure the back door to her apartment, the one that opened to the wrought-iron balcony and spiral staircase, was locked, and went out the door that led to the interior staircase. She was careful to lock it behind her as well, though she usually wasn’t so conscientious.
She continued down to the bottom floor, where there was a small lobby with black and white tiles and a door that led out to the back, behind the circle, where Chris, Tavey, and the employees of the boutique usually parked. On the wall to the right of the staircase were the three inset mailboxes for the building, and to the left was the side door to the boutique. She had a key; Tavey preferred that customers use the main entrance, so she kept it locked.
Chris opened it carefully, since sometimes customers were browsing on the other side, and shut it behind her.
“Hey, it’s Chris,” she called, not wanting to scare Tavey or the manager, Betty, a short, round woman with bright blue eyes.
“Over here,” Betty called.
Chris walked past an aisle of various squeaky toys to the main counter, which was lined with a display case featuring treats that looked good enough for a person to eat, much less a dog. The sounds of clippers and the occasional bark came from the right, where, instead of a bedroom like in her apartment, a small grooming salon had been created. A half door that swung on a hinge had EMPLOYEES ONLY written on it.
Betty was sitting behind the counter tallying something, her gray hair in tidy curls, her wrinkled blue eyes delighted to see Chris, as always.
“Hey, Bettes.” Chris approached the counter. “How are you this morning?”
“I’m fine, honey,” she drawled. “How are you?”
Chris shrugged, not wanting to go into details. Betty had a bad habit of suggesting that she stop chasing after missing kids, find a man, and have some kids of her own. “I met a handsome man,” she offered now, which was the truth.
“Did you? Well, that’s good, honey. Are you going on a date?”
Chris considered that. “I’m seeing him today.” Again, not a lie.
Betty set her clipboard down. “I’m so happy for you. I hope this one works out.”
Chris hoped he didn’t end up shooting her. That would be working out, in her opinion.
“Is Tavey around? She asked me to stop by.”
“She’s in the back going over everything with the new groomer. What a sweet girl.”
“Okay, I’ll just—”
“I heard you,” Tavey said as she breezed through the swinging door.
Tavey always looked put-together, even though she dealt with dogs and mud and god knew what else on a daily basis. She was wearing jeans that fit her tall, athletic frame perfectly, knee-high riding boots in a cognac color, and a matching leather belt with a gold buckle. A long-sleeve navy shirt, a colorful scarf, and a tidy French braid completed the look, which radiated
WHEN SHE CAME back to herself, ten minutes had passed. She stood and dusted off her knees, a little confused. She remembered that moment so clearly that she could picture the clothes they were wearing, the color of the roses in bloom, but Tavey’s grandfather would never have let them play with the puppies, not unsupervised.
She shook it off for the moment and hobbled on legs that had fallen asleep to the little cross that lay, tilted a little, under the shade of the big tree. She stood looking down at it, head bent as if in prayer, and maybe she was praying.
“I miss you forever.”
And with that she turned and made her awkward way across the circle and back to her studio, wishing she had time for a green tea latte. She needed a caffeine boost if she was going to be all calm and soothing for these folks.
ONCE HER CLASS was over, she showered and changed quickly into jeans, a long-sleeve T-shirt, a jacket, and coral UGGs. She made sure the back door to her apartment, the one that opened to the wrought-iron balcony and spiral staircase, was locked, and went out the door that led to the interior staircase. She was careful to lock it behind her as well, though she usually wasn’t so conscientious.
She continued down to the bottom floor, where there was a small lobby with black and white tiles and a door that led out to the back, behind the circle, where Chris, Tavey, and the employees of the boutique usually parked. On the wall to the right of the staircase were the three inset mailboxes for the building, and to the left was the side door to the boutique. She had a key; Tavey preferred that customers use the main entrance, so she kept it locked.
Chris opened it carefully, since sometimes customers were browsing on the other side, and shut it behind her.
“Hey, it’s Chris,” she called, not wanting to scare Tavey or the manager, Betty, a short, round woman with bright blue eyes.
“Over here,” Betty called.
Chris walked past an aisle of various squeaky toys to the main counter, which was lined with a display case featuring treats that looked good enough for a person to eat, much less a dog. The sounds of clippers and the occasional bark came from the right, where, instead of a bedroom like in her apartment, a small grooming salon had been created. A half door that swung on a hinge had EMPLOYEES ONLY written on it.
Betty was sitting behind the counter tallying something, her gray hair in tidy curls, her wrinkled blue eyes delighted to see Chris, as always.
“Hey, Bettes.” Chris approached the counter. “How are you this morning?”
“I’m fine, honey,” she drawled. “How are you?”
Chris shrugged, not wanting to go into details. Betty had a bad habit of suggesting that she stop chasing after missing kids, find a man, and have some kids of her own. “I met a handsome man,” she offered now, which was the truth.
“Did you? Well, that’s good, honey. Are you going on a date?”
Chris considered that. “I’m seeing him today.” Again, not a lie.
Betty set her clipboard down. “I’m so happy for you. I hope this one works out.”
Chris hoped he didn’t end up shooting her. That would be working out, in her opinion.
“Is Tavey around? She asked me to stop by.”
“She’s in the back going over everything with the new groomer. What a sweet girl.”
“Okay, I’ll just—”
“I heard you,” Tavey said as she breezed through the swinging door.
Tavey always looked put-together, even though she dealt with dogs and mud and god knew what else on a daily basis. She was wearing jeans that fit her tall, athletic frame perfectly, knee-high riding boots in a cognac color, and a matching leather belt with a gold buckle. A long-sleeve navy shirt, a colorful scarf, and a tidy French braid completed the look, which radiated
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