The corners of Cora’s mouth turned down before she could help it. Equating the success of her program with the cost was a close second to the “fix my dog” request on her list of red flags. (Which was tied with people likening her to Boris Ershovich.) Sure, private training was expensive, but so was having a plumber show up when you’ve got an overflowing toilet.
Charlie sighed, as if heading into a frequent battle. “Mads, there’s not a ‘ton’ of stuff wrong with Oliver. He’s a typical puppy. It’s all normal.” He reached down to pet Oliver, who was chewing on his shoelace.
“What are the main challenges? I want to make sure we get to all of it.” Cora focused on Madison, as unpleasant as she was, because her cheeks got hot every time she looked at Charlie.
“Where do I start?” Madison held out her hand and ticked off the problems on her manicured fingers. “The peeing, the drooling, the poop in my closet, the hair, the muddy paws, the smell, the nipping, the jumping, the destruction of my shoes, and the nonstop spazziness. I’moverit.”
Charlie sighed again, crossed his arms, and leaned ever so slightly away from Madison.
“Wow, that’s quite a list!” Cora said. “I’ve got good news and bad news. The good news is that I can help you with most of it.” She paused. “The bad news is that muddy paws, drool, and hair are all a part of the deal when it comes to dogs. Maybe you should’ve stuck with cats?” It slipped out before Cora could stop herself, and it sounded unkind. She kicked herself for insulting the person who was about to write her a check.
“Sometimes I wish I had,” Madison said, narrowing her eyes at Cora.
“I think we’re going to be fine, Mads,” Charlie said, defusing the mounting tension and finally reaching out to his girlfriend, giving her hand a squeeze. “I’m sure Cora knows how to help us, and she’ll show you that Ollie-by-golly is a genius after all. Right?” He looked at Cora with a hopeful expression.
“I promise. You’ll beembrasser votre chienbefore you know it!” Cora’s French tripped her up yet again, making her think about kissing. She turned pink, and wondered how she was going to navigate the next five weeks without ever looking directly at Charlie.
TWO
On the drive home, Cora’s cell phone jangled her out of her self-satisfaction for successfully navigating the Perry-Gill lesson. She struggled to dig through her overloaded work bag with one hand while managing the quirky back streets of Georgetown with the other. Of course the phone had to ring on the narrow cobblestoned street that was partially blocked by a moving van. Phone located and earpiece inserted, she answered, “Top Dog Training, may I help you?”
“Duuuude, where are you? Didn’t you get my texts?”
“Hey, Mags, I’m just leaving my final client of the day. Haven’t even had a chance to look at my phone. What’s up?” Cora’s roommate, Maggie Zabek, had a knack for reporting inane but entertaining gossip, so Cora didn’t always rush to check when her name popped up on-screen.
“I’m guessing you didn’t look at thePostthis morning before you left, right?” Maggie’s father was an editor of the local paper in Richmond, and though she was thirty years younger than the average newspaper reader, she defiantly subscribed to the paper version of theWashington Postas an act of solidarity for a dying medium.
“No, I was running late. Why?” Cora could tell by Maggie’s voice that something was up.
“Um, when will you be home?”
“What’s going on? You’re freaking me out, just tell me what’s up.Whatwas in thePost? Is it something about my business? Is there a new Boris Ershovich training center opening up in Rosslyn or something?” The idea that the powerhouse dog training celebrity might franchise on her home turf was one of the many unlikely but still stressful thoughts that kept her up at night. After three years of struggle, she was finally established in her market, but she knew she could never compete with Ershovich’s star power.
“No, it’s nothing about you ... per se. Jesus, C, I don’t want to tell you on the phone. You kinda need to see it to believe it anyway. It’s notbadbad, it’s just ... freaky.” Maggie paused.
“I’ll be home in five. This better be good.”
“It’s... something, all right.”
Cora snagged a parking spot right in front of her building and raced up the stairs to their place. Her dog Fritz was waiting for her at the door.
“Hi, Fritzie. Hello, my handsome boy. Where’s Auntie Maggie?” She leaned down and kissed him on top of his square head. Fritz did a little dance to welcome her home, and for a few seconds as she massaged his shoulders, nothing else mattered. Greeting complete, she stood up and shouted, “I’m here, now will you please tell me what’s going on?”
“I’m in the kitchen,” Maggie replied.
Cora rounded the corner and saw Maggie sitting at the tiny kitchen table with the newspaper spread in front of her and a pitcher of orange juice nearby. She was still in her leopard print flannel pajamas, her short white-blond hair sticking out from her head in wild spikes. She looked adorable even when disheveled. Maggie patted the pitcher and smiled. “It’s too early for wine, but it’s never too early for mimosas.”
“You look awfully cheerful for someone delivering news that requires alcohol. Let me see this.” Cora swooped down and tried to grab the paper from the table, but Maggie threw her hands on top of it.
“Can I at least point it out to you? Back off for a sec. I need to make a speech first.”
Cora hopped up and down in frustration.
“Okay, Cora, my dearest friend. Here goes.” Maggie cleared her throat and paused dramatically. “You’ve been through a lot of crap in the past, and since I know you pretty much better than anyone else, I think I’m qualified to say that you’ve finally put that all behind you. Puthimbehind you.”
Cora’s stomach dropped. The bad news was somehow related to Aaron, her ex-fiancé. “Oh no. Oh no. What is it? Is he getting married?” By this time Fritz had pushed his head beneath Cora’s hand, sensitive, as always, to the slightest shifts in her mood. She touched it absentmindedly.
Maggie’s expression changed from concerned to pained. “Please don’t get upset, C. He’s not getting married. Here, look.”
