I glance at Evan who looks amused for the first time since he got home. “Congrats. Do you know how many puppies she’s having?”
Millie’s brown eyes get even bigger than normal, and she takes a step toward the stairs. “You know what this means, right?”
“Uh…no?”
“Apollodid this.”
Evan huffs a dismissive laugh. “No he didn’t.”
“Yes. He did. It had to have been him. Remember New Year’s?”
I lean on the stairwell wall because I’m sensing this might take a minute to sort out.
“What about it?” Evan asks.
“The dinner party?”
Evan still looks like he’s got no idea what she’s talking about.
I help jog his memory. He was pretty drunk that night. We all were. “The one where Bailey made that winter sangria.”
Evan looks at me. “I had a lot of that.”
“Exactly,” Millie cuts in. “You weren’t supervising your dog and he—” She switches to a whisper. “Hedid itwith Manon.”
“Did what?” Evan asks.
Millie folds her arms over her chest. “I’m gonna need you to take some responsibility for this. You can’t expect me to do this on my own.”
“Hold on.” Evan lifts both hands. “Are you saying Apollo railed your tiny dog? Do you have proof? Because Melvin downstairs isn’t neutered either, and he was a stud back in the day. I’m not sure if you know that.”
“Melvin is almost fourteen.”
The Golden Retriever they’re referring toispretty old. He lives with the married couple in the apartment underneath mine and Evan’s.
“Just because he’s an old fucker doesn’t mean he can’t still fuck.”
Millie turns bright red. “I know it was him.” She points at both our doors. “She’s gainedten pounds.”
“Is there some kind of paternity test? You can’t tell me she’s never gotten away from you in the park.”
“I can too! She’s always with me.”
“Not on New Year’s apparently. How do you even know she was in the apartment? She could have gotten out. There were a lot of people there.”
“It had to have been then because that’s when she was in heat.”
In Evan’s defense, I feel compelled to add, “I have heard dogs wander when they’re in heat.”
“She doesn’twander.”
“Millie.” Evan’s tone is gentler, clearly trying to deescalate the situation. “I’m sorry you’re upset. But I know my dog. He’s not interested in Manon.”
“I need help with vet bills,” she bursts.
“Are you kidding?”
“No! She’s gonna need a C-section. I can’t afford a surgery.”
