“I can ask Holly or Peyton to come and check on her for you if you like,” I told her, “so you can still perform at V and V.”
“And dinner?” she asked.
I hesitated. That felt a bit like a date, and I didn’t want to go there, but Phoebe was trying really hard to be friendly, and she’d done an awfully big favor for me. “Sure.”
“Cool. So, the winner picks the restaurant, and the loser pays. I’m betting she’ll even things out with another girl, mostly white with some brown spots.”
“I’ll say boy, then. Solid black.”
“Black?” Phoebe’s eyebrows raised. “But Violet’s not black, and neither are any of the other puppies.”
I shrugged. “I have a thing for black dogs, but if it’s brown, I guess we’ll have to decide whether it’s closer to my guess or yours.”
“A judgment call,” Phoebe agreed. “All right, Violet. Now it’s on you. One more puppy—hopefully—and you’ll be done.”
I took a swig of cider, watching Violet. The puppies had tired themselves out and gone to sleep, and she was panting and starting to look restless, like another one was on the way. Sure enough, not five minutes later, she started to push. A white nose began to emerge, and Phoebe let out a little squeal beside me.
“I think you’re going to be buying me dinner next Friday,” she whispered.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I said, but the truth was, I wouldn’t mind buying her dinner. Maybe we deserved a nice night out to put away any residual hurt from the past and move on. It really wasn’t fair of me to hold the things she’d done in high school against her. She’d been young and scared, and teenagers had never been known for their excellent decision-making skills, after all.
Still, she was only in town for a few weeks, which meant I needed to keep her in the friend zone. I wasn’t going to get my heart broken by the same woman twice.
“Here it comes,” Phoebe whispered as Violet gave another big push.
The puppy slid out, landing on the clean pad I’d put there. This one was a dark color with a white face, although it was hard to tell yet whether it was brown or black. It also appeared to be smaller than the other three. Violet immediately got busy removing the sack and cleaning it up. She seemed to be an old pro by now.
“It might come down to the gender to decide the winner,” Phoebe said in a hushed voice.
“Mm,” I agreed, but there was an unsettled feeling in my gut. The puppy hadn’t cried yet, and I couldn’t tell if it was moving. As I watched, Violet pushed it away with her nose, turning back to her other puppies.
I shoved my cider into Phoebe’s hand and slid off the bed, grabbing a towel as I hurried to the whelping box. I took the small, limp puppy in one hand, rubbing its chest vigorously with the towel.
“Is something wrong?” Phoebe asked.
I looked down at the motionless puppy in my hands. “It’s not breathing.”
15
Phoebe
“Oh no,” I gasped, watching as Taylor rubbed the puppy’s chest while it lay motionless in her hands. I’d been so caught up in betting over its gender and appearance, I’d gotten cocky. I’d assumed we were out of the woods, and now the puppy might die.
“Come on, little one,” Taylor said. She cleared the puppy’s airway and blew gently into its mouth before returning to rubbing its chest with the towel. Her movements were brisk, almost rough, and the puppy’s little body flopped limply from side to side.
There was a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, and my heart was beating too fast. I desperately wanted to look away because I didn’t want to see this, but I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off that tiny lifeless puppy.
“Please, please, please…” I chanted. I put our ciders on the nightstand and clasped my hands in front of me. It felt like it had been ages since the puppy was born, but probably only a minute or two had passed. Still, I’d taken countless breaths in the meantime while the puppy hadn’t taken a single one. As much as I wanted Taylor to keep going, as much as I wanted a miracle to happen, it seemed like it had been too long.
The puppy was dead.
I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut. What an awful end to what had been such a wonderful experience. A tiny, high-pitched squeak startled me, and my eyes popped open to see the puppy twitch in Taylor’s hands. It squeaked again as its paws began to flail.
“Holy shit,” I breathed. “You really did it. You brought that puppy back to life.”
“I did,” Taylor said, sounding awestruck.
Violet began to sniff the new puppy, perhaps drawn by its cries. Taylor gave it another rub and then set it against Violet’s belly to nurse. I slid off the bed to sit beside Taylor, watching as the new puppy latched on for its first drink of milk.
