Joe untied his red windbreaker with one hand and held it out to her. “Put this on your head like the church ladies do.”
“Thank you, Joe.” She stopped and tied the sleeves under her chin so that she looked like “Little Edie” Beale.
“Yup, you look pretty in everything.”
They moved down the sidewalk in silence, each concentrating on the dogs in front of them.
“Where are we taking these boys?”
“My place.”
“What about taking them to the adoption place, like your boyfriend said?”
“Nope, I have a better idea.”
Cora was thankful for the empty sidewalks. The four of them were an Instagram-worthy spectacle, and Cora didn’t feel like answering questions about why she was walking mud-covered dogs in an evening gown with a dirty windbreaker tied around her head. Plus it meant fewer witnesses for whatever she decided to do.
“Here we are,” she said, stopping in front of her building.
“Okey doke, here ya go,” Joe said, handing the trash bag leash to Cora.
“Wait, don’t you want to come up?” Cora wasn’t sure if she’d be able to navigate the dogs up the stairs in her heels and dress.
“I have to get home now. Can I have my jacket, please? Bye, boys, see you later!” He turned and walked swiftly away as soon as Cora handed him his windbreaker, seemingly uncomfortable breaching their sidewalk-only relationship.
She led the dogs up the stairs and down the narrow hallway, wondering how she was going to manage four dogs in the apartment and remain clean. The golden foil woven throughout her dress provided excellent wicking from the rain, and though she was damp, she hoped that her look was still recoverable. If a fight broke out between her dogs and Blade and Hunter, however, there was no way she’d be able to police it in her gown and heels without getting filthy. Plus, Maggie and Darnell had left for dinner, so she was on her own.
Cora peered up and down the hallway and knew she had no choice. She laced the dogs’ makeshift leashes around her neighbor’s doorknob and quickly kicked off her heels and stripped off the dress, praying that there would be a traffic lull on their typically busy floor. She ran a few feet down the hall in her strapless bra and tiny thong, holding the dress up in the air with one hand and shielding her naked backside with the other. She stood on her tiptoes and hung it from the exit sign by the stairwell, then ran back to the two puzzled dogs.
“This is going to be interesting,” she said to them, quietly putting her key in the lock and ignoring the fact that she was once again exposing her butt to the world. She opened the door and led them in cautiously, hoping that she could race them to the bathroom and close them in before Fritz and Josie roused.
Fritz popped his head out of the family room right as they made it to the bathroom door. “Hi boy, no worries. Just stay right there,” she said soothingly. Blade and Hunter spotted Fritz and gave a few tentative whisper barks, as if testing their voices, then launched into a ferocious display. Fritz backed away silently.
“In we go!” Cora sang to them, clinging to the uncomfortable leashes and aware that her response could impact their reactions. The dogs spread their legs and held their ground in front of the bathroom door, raising a terrifying ruckus Cora was sure her neighbors could hear.
The noise summoned Josie, and she jumped in front of Fritz and barked back at them, as if guarding her tired older brother.
“In we go! In we go!” Cora chanted in a chipper voice over the uproar as she struggled to lead the straining dogs through the bathroom door. She didn’t know what they were capable of and needed everyone to remain safe. But they dug their claws into the floor and resisted every inch of progress.
She finally got them in and slammed the door behind her. They left muddy footprints and body smears everywhere, even on Cora’s legs. She could hear Fritz and Josie inhaling at the seam in the door, trying to assess the interlopers.
“You boys have got me sweating,” she said to them as they examined the tiny bathroom, their fury trumped by the allure of new smells. She peered in the mirror. Her rain-smeared smoky eyes now made her look like she’d just woken up after a bender, and the smooth waves Darnell had coaxed from her hair were lost in a mass of frizzy ringlets beneath the unraveling fishtail braid. “Oh no. I think I’m unrecoverable.”
She sat down on the edge of the tub, the porcelain cooling her naked butt as she watched the dogs survey the room. Blade, the more skittish of the two, made his way over to where Cora sat and wagged his stumpy tail at her, the plastic bag still coiled around his collar. She reached out to pet him and he took a half step away, tail still wagging. He wanted her to connect but didn’t have the confidence to allow her to do so. Hunter pushed in front of his brother and placed his head on Cora’s bare legs. She stroked his crusty fur and ignored the dirty stripes he painted on her thighs.
“You two could be my golden tickets,” she said to them.
She needed to call Mia—with her help, the handoff would be easy to arrange. She would do her best to fix her makeup and hair and change back into her dress. Wouldn’t the story be that much better if she laughingly told Dalton Feretti that she was on her way to an ALPF gala when she discovered the dogs? It would be fine for her to have less-than-perfect hair and makeup, as that would underscore her narrative of being the dogs’ guardian angel during the storm. Her heart thudded in her chest as she ran through the scenario.
Nervous, Blade settled down in the narrow area in between the vanity and where Cora sat on the edge of the tub, his head resting on top of her toes. Hunter plopped into a sit beside her and pawed at her to get her to pet him. Despite the stress of the situation, or perhaps because of it, both dogs were glued to Cora in their own way. She wondered how often they were able to justbewith a person, in silent and companionable meditation, as they were now. How often did someone trace the edges of their soft ears or rub their muscular shoulders?
“Let’s get this thing off,” she said as she started unwinding the belt wrapped around Hunter’s collar. She stopped abruptly when her fingers hit plastic. There, beneath the coiled leather, sat a little black plastic box resting on his throat.
The shock collar.
Hunter wiggled his rear end and panted with his face pointing to the ceiling, almost as if he wanted her to examine it. Cora reached toward him slowly.
“Ou, chouchou. I’m so sorry. She hurt you, didn’t she?” Hunter flinched as she put her hand on the collar and lowered his head toward the ground as she removed it. Cora inspected the area beneath where the box had sat. Hunter’s fur was patchy, and the skin beneath was an angry red. Tears filled her eyes, and she spent a few minutes stroking Hunter, trying to make up for all the wrong that had been done to him. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.”
