Maybe this was her moment to tell her friends about the possibility of auditioning for her own show. But she didn’t want pressure from them clouding her decision-making process. She stared at her mug.
“Spill it, Cora. You know something you’re not saying. What is it?” Winnie’s observational skills never turned off, even after a few drinks.
Cora took a swig of beer to buy a few seconds before she answered. “There’s a casting call for a new dog training show. I’m thinking about auditioning.”
“What?!” Vanessa shouted.
“Thank you, Jesus, we have a voice!” Winnie exclaimed, raising her hands to the ceiling.
“Whoa, there! I said I wasthinkingabout it.”
Winnie studied Cora’s face. “Do you want to do it?”
Vanessa and Winnie stared at Cora. The scrutiny was intense.
“I don’t know. Maybe. I mean, my rational brain is a hundred percent against it. You know I hate being the center of attention. But my heart ... there’s something telling me to go for it.”
“If I were done apprenticing I’d do it in a heartbeat,” Vanessa said. “This face?” she pointed to herself. “Ratings, baby!”
Winnie shook her head. “That ship has sailed for me. And even if I weren’t a hundred years old I don’t think I could put myself out there like that. People can be brutal. But you should definitely do it.”
Cora thought of Aaron. His TV trajectory was a cautionary tale, and one that made Cora feel less confident about pursuing the show. She would never say anything as spectacularly awful as Aaron had, but Cora knew that standing up to Ershovich would make her chum for his brainwashed supporters. She feared the backlash that would inevitably come. There were hundreds of opinions about Aaron on Twitter, less than a day later, the slur (#freespeech), what he meant by it (#homophobe), what he looked like (#smokin), if he was in fact gay (#closetcase), how stupid he seemed (#bagofhammers), and how people felt about the show (#fireaaron). Cora almost felt sorry for him.
Winnie placed her hand on top of Cora’s and brought her back into the moment. “Clarity will come to you. Don’t force it.”
“You would be amazing, Cora. You’ve got to at least try out. For the dogs. And for me, so I can come visit you on the set,” Vanessa said.
The three of them sat in silence, contemplating what it would mean if she decided to pursue the opportunity.
“Whatever you decide, we’re here for you,” Vanessa said. Then she threw her hand up to catch the bartender’s attention. “Another round for the Hounds, please!”
NINE
Charlie Gill Day.
Cora tried to pretend like it was any other lesson, but she took a few extra minutes getting ready, pressing her apple-green logo shirt that complemented her eyes, wearing her most flattering jeans, and taming her waves before braiding her hair.
“Are you wearingmascara?” Maggie asked accusingly as Cora got ready.
“I don’t know... ,” Cora answered, using a jokey teenager voice thick with vocal fry, hoping to deflect the question. She hadn’t told Maggie about Charlie Gill. Cora loved nearly everything about Maggie, but she didn’t appreciate her cavalier attitude about poaching men. Maggie had had an affair with a married professor while she was in college, and she had occasional dalliances with guys in relationships. Cora was sure Maggie would push her to cross the professional boundaries she worked so hard to maintain. Plus, there was no reason to mention him. He was just a handsome client, nothing more. A very handsome, charismatic, kind, funny client that kept popping into Cora’s head uninvited.
Fritz rolled onto his back to expose his freckled pink stomach as Cora dashed by, his catfish mouth grinning and his tail thumping a Morse code invitation on the hardwood floor. Fritz knew that no matter how pressed for time she was, Cora always responded to his entreaties for belly rubs. She bent over and gave the naked part of his stomach a few quick scratches.
Cora sped out the door in the haze, ignoring Maggie’s demands for clarification. She checked her face in the rearview mirror as she navigated the end of the morning rush hour, not surprised to find a preemptive red blotch forming on the side of her neck.Be cool, be cool, this is no big deal,she told herself.It’s all about Oliver. We’ve got lots to accomplish with that little dog!Cora wanted to make sure that Oliver’s behavior was extra polished so that Madison would be impressed when she returned home.
Charlie and Oliver were outside on the front step when she arrived. Charlie was in a dark suit and jaunty orange-striped tie, leaning back against the stairs with his eyes closed and his face turned up to the sun, his hands clasped behind his head. Oliver sat next to him and chewed on his leash contentedly, using his fat puppy paws to clasp it with surprising dexterity. They were even cuter than Cora remembered.
“Hey, guys!” Cora called out. “Are you ready to work, or are you taking a nap?”
“Oliver, look who’s here—it’s your teacher!” Charlie straightened himself and grinned at Cora. “We are so ready for this lesson. Like, beyond ready.” Oliver strained at the end of the leash, trying to reach Cora, making high-pitched whining noises. “Wow, someone has a major crush on you!”
Which someone are you talking about?she wondered. “Eager students are my favorite,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady while her stomach flip-flopped. “Let’s start with a leash walk.” She didn’t want to go inside with him alone. She needed fresh air and the bleach of sunshine to sanitize the thoughts running through her head every time he looked at her.
Cora explained the mechanics of loose leash walking while Oliver dashed around them, investigating every inch of the world as only a puppy can. The sidewalks were empty on the quaint street near Charlie’s house, but Oliver still managed to get distracted by every scent molecule that drifted by. When Cora took the leash from Charlie after watching his staccato attempt at walking Oliver, their hands grazed accidentally and sent a jolt up Cora’s arm. She refocused and demonstrated how if she occasionally rewarded the dog with a small treat for walking near her without pulling, he would eventually choose to fall in line beside her, awaiting more goodies instead of pulling like a sled dog. The beginning stages of the lesson were easy but dramatic enough to make Cora look like a magician.
“This makes so much sense!” Charlie said. “Madison made me watch that awful Boris dog training show, and it was insane, like a church revival but with dog training. She still doesn’t get it that we’re not training the O-man like that. The dogs on the show looked miserable, he looked angry, and the whole thing was depressing to me. If you watch the dogs it’s obvious they’re hating every minute.”
Boris Ershovich’s TV show was shot in front of a live audience in various venues throughout the country, and there was indeed a religious fervor about them. He packed his audiences with acolytes that cheered and applauded madly any time he gestured to himself or the dog he was training. Many of the audience members brought homemade signs with sayings likeBORIS IS FOR USon them. They waited in lines after the show for autographs and photos. Ershovich was every inch the celebrity dog trainer, and he seemed to care more about his fame than about the dogs he was supposedly helping.
