As they sipped and laughed and ate, Claire marveled at how her life had changed within a week. She felt warmer and more relaxed than she had over the past year, which had been chilled by an emptiness the loss of David had opened and couldn’t be filled by the companionship of Marti and Stephen.
Luca clapped his hands. “I spy a large package, and I think it is time to open it, oui?”
“Oui,” Claire replied. “It is a gift for you and Onc.”
Luca wrapped his arms around the large box, lifted it, and placed it on Gilbert’s lap. “Ready, Onc?”
“Let’s do it,” replied Gilbert.
Together they tore at the paper, opened the box, and pulled out the dog puppet. Gilbert took one set of the cross-sticks and Luca the other, and together they brought the dog to stand on his paws. Gilbert rotated his crosspiece, and Luca brought up one of the strings, which made the puppet tilt and dip his head.
Remy’s fur trembled, and he woofed.
Claire laughed. Gilbert put out his hand to her. “Show us how to make him run.”
Relieved the puppet man showed her how to operate the dog, she stood between them, tilting their hands, plucking the strings, wiggling the sticks.
Marti and Stephen snapped photo after photo, as Remy ran in circles and barked at his new competition.
Claire bent down and called Remy. He was at her side in a second. She hugged him and knew, for the first time in her life, that she’d fallen in love with a dog. She soaked in the warmth, the fun, the laughter, the love.
How could she ever leave this happy place?
Marti pulled out a package sporting hot pink and lime green polka dots. She held it out to Claire. “A surprise for you.”
Claire accepted the box. “Your packages are in Seattle.”
“We can wait. Open yours now.”
Claire sat on the couch, and Luca sat next to her. “I can help,” he offered as he ripped the wrapping paper.
The plain brown cardboard box gave no clues about the contents. She glanced at Marti, who studied the Christmas tree, refusing to give Claire any hint.
“A diamond necklace?” asked Luca. “A wide-screen TV?”
Claire laughed, removed the lid, and gasped. “My prototype!” She pulled out the swimsuit and held it up, showing it to Luca and Gilbert. “This is my invention.” She turned to Marti. “How did you get this?”
Marti laughed. “I hounded Rick and guilted him into giving it to me.” She crossed her legs and cupped her knee. “By the way, you owe him three-thousand dollars.”
“What?”
“Kidding. He said to tell you, good luck because you’ll need it.”
Luca lifted the turquoise and green Spandex above his head. “This is your life-saving maillot?”
“Sadly, yes, Luca.”
“Why are you sad?”
“Because it doesn’t work.”
He bit his lip, examining the floatation device, and then held it out to Gilbert. “Onc, you can fix this, right?”
Gilbert ran his fingers along the tubing. “This is like the Mae West Survival Vest?”
“Yes,” exclaimed Claire. “You’re familiar with the design?”
“It saved thousands of lives in World War II, many of them Allied pilots and seamen and French sailors.” He withdrew a metal cylinder. “But this is the wrong valve. And the cylinder is too big—it overinflated the tube, did it not?”
