screeched, “See. There’s a tick on me!” Frantically, she bounced and shifted around in her effort to get the insect and dog off her.
John glanced over at Vivian and brushed at her lap. His deep-throated laugh vibrated through the vehicle. “That’s not a tick. It’s just dirt.” He held a piece of gray lint between his fingers for everyone’s inspection.
The dog leapt over into the back.
“Humph. Well, it looked like a tick. I didn’t want it attaching itself to my skin.”
Suppressing a smile, Clarisse pulled the dog onto her lap and put a soothing hand on his back. She really shouldn’t laugh, but Vivian had looked so comical. And as hard as she tried, she couldn’t find it within herself to sympathize with the woman. After this morning, she felt only contempt toward her.
The dog’s quaking subsided and Clarisse resumed with the haircut. After almost an hour, she put the scissors down and eyed the animal critically. Not bad. He didn’t seem to have any ticks or fleas, and most of the dirt had been removed with the clippings. She pulled a brush from her purse—later she’d get a new one for herself—and stroked the short curls.
Once done, she put the dog down on the seat beside her. He settled in a tight ball. He probably hadn’t had many opportunities to relax out in the elements.
The animal soon surrendered to a well-deserved nap, but after a half-hour, he started circling the seat. When the animal didn’t subside, Clarisse decided it might be a good idea to stop. The last thing she needed was an accident in the vehicle’s spotless upholstery. She would never hear the end of it from Vivian, or for that matter, John.
“Can you stop off at the next exit, John?”
“What’s wrong?”
“I think the dog needs to go to the bathroom. It’s been over a couple hours. He’s held out pretty good.”
“You mean we’re going to stop every two hours for a dog?” Vivian’s voice rose in horror. “You’ve got to be kidding!”
“No, I’m not,” Clarisse returned patiently, though she wanted to say something equally snide and obnoxious. “I’m just thankful he seems housetrained.”
“This is ridiculous! I told you this would be a mistake, John, but no, you had to listen to Clarisse. The dog’s dictating when we stop and go. It’s an animal—not some human!”
John shrugged. “It’s done. Complaining about it isn’t going to change the situation.”
“We can dump it on the side of the road, for one.”
Clarisse bristled. “It figures you would say something like that!”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Take it however you want!”
“No! I want to know what you meant by that.”
Too long she’d kept silent. But no more. Enough was enough. “Fine! It’s something a person would say when they only care about themselves. But of course, it’s the least I would expect from a woman that gets unraveled when she sees a little bug on her.”
“Why you…you—” Vivian spluttered.
“Okay that’s enough!” John broke in with a mixture of amusement and disgust. “Stop it. The both of you! This heat is getting to all of us. But acting like a couple of adolescents will only make matters worse.”
“You’re right,” Clarisse admitted, though grudgingly. She was acting childish.
“That’s fine coming from you! Mister cool, calm and collected. Nothing fazes Mister stone man.”
“Shut up Vivian, or I swear I’ll be the one who drops you off on the side of the road.”
“Well, well.” Vivian picked a couple of choice words that would redden even a teenager’s ears and subsided.
For the rest of the day, no one spoke to each other unless it was necessary. But that didn’t mean Vivian didn’t use every opportunity to throw daggers at Clarisse. She closed her eyes against the redhead and tried to think of something pleasant, but she came up blank.
By the time they stopped off at the hotel, Clarisse nearly flew from the car even with the burden of the
John glanced over at Vivian and brushed at her lap. His deep-throated laugh vibrated through the vehicle. “That’s not a tick. It’s just dirt.” He held a piece of gray lint between his fingers for everyone’s inspection.
The dog leapt over into the back.
“Humph. Well, it looked like a tick. I didn’t want it attaching itself to my skin.”
Suppressing a smile, Clarisse pulled the dog onto her lap and put a soothing hand on his back. She really shouldn’t laugh, but Vivian had looked so comical. And as hard as she tried, she couldn’t find it within herself to sympathize with the woman. After this morning, she felt only contempt toward her.
The dog’s quaking subsided and Clarisse resumed with the haircut. After almost an hour, she put the scissors down and eyed the animal critically. Not bad. He didn’t seem to have any ticks or fleas, and most of the dirt had been removed with the clippings. She pulled a brush from her purse—later she’d get a new one for herself—and stroked the short curls.
Once done, she put the dog down on the seat beside her. He settled in a tight ball. He probably hadn’t had many opportunities to relax out in the elements.
The animal soon surrendered to a well-deserved nap, but after a half-hour, he started circling the seat. When the animal didn’t subside, Clarisse decided it might be a good idea to stop. The last thing she needed was an accident in the vehicle’s spotless upholstery. She would never hear the end of it from Vivian, or for that matter, John.
“Can you stop off at the next exit, John?”
“What’s wrong?”
“I think the dog needs to go to the bathroom. It’s been over a couple hours. He’s held out pretty good.”
“You mean we’re going to stop every two hours for a dog?” Vivian’s voice rose in horror. “You’ve got to be kidding!”
“No, I’m not,” Clarisse returned patiently, though she wanted to say something equally snide and obnoxious. “I’m just thankful he seems housetrained.”
“This is ridiculous! I told you this would be a mistake, John, but no, you had to listen to Clarisse. The dog’s dictating when we stop and go. It’s an animal—not some human!”
John shrugged. “It’s done. Complaining about it isn’t going to change the situation.”
“We can dump it on the side of the road, for one.”
Clarisse bristled. “It figures you would say something like that!”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Take it however you want!”
“No! I want to know what you meant by that.”
Too long she’d kept silent. But no more. Enough was enough. “Fine! It’s something a person would say when they only care about themselves. But of course, it’s the least I would expect from a woman that gets unraveled when she sees a little bug on her.”
“Why you…you—” Vivian spluttered.
“Okay that’s enough!” John broke in with a mixture of amusement and disgust. “Stop it. The both of you! This heat is getting to all of us. But acting like a couple of adolescents will only make matters worse.”
“You’re right,” Clarisse admitted, though grudgingly. She was acting childish.
“That’s fine coming from you! Mister cool, calm and collected. Nothing fazes Mister stone man.”
“Shut up Vivian, or I swear I’ll be the one who drops you off on the side of the road.”
“Well, well.” Vivian picked a couple of choice words that would redden even a teenager’s ears and subsided.
For the rest of the day, no one spoke to each other unless it was necessary. But that didn’t mean Vivian didn’t use every opportunity to throw daggers at Clarisse. She closed her eyes against the redhead and tried to think of something pleasant, but she came up blank.
By the time they stopped off at the hotel, Clarisse nearly flew from the car even with the burden of the
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