Getting a puppy wasn’t in the cards, at least not so soon in this new life of mine. But last week, while I was standing at a gas station staring at the community board, right between a flyer for a mechanical bull riding contest and an ad for piano lessons, I saw one for German Shepherd puppies at a local rescue. I always wanted a dog but was never allowed to have one, so I took it as a sign.
Lydia would have said it was a sign too.
It’s at that moment, as I head for the backyard to find my dog, that I wonder what she would say about my predicament with Rhonan. Oh, I’m sure she’d be pressuring me to do something about it, like asking him on a date in the name of moving on like I should be. But thinking about how we were always so different is making the sadness from the past few months reappear.
That familiar wave of grief brushes the edges of my heart as I head to the backyard in search of Roscoe.
“Roscoe? Roscoe?” My voice is loud enough that he should hear me, but I don’t see him anywhere, and there’s not too many places to hide. The yard is bare except for the wild grass that grows all over the ground here, and there are only two spindly trees that wouldn’t hide a squirrel, let alone a puppy.
“Damn dog!” A voice comes from over the fence to my right, sharp and irritated.
Roscoe’s bark rings out, igniting urgency within me as I race to the fence. But when I look over it, I can almost hear Lydia’s laugh in my head.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
Rhonan is chasing around my puppy while Ellis laughs on their deck.
“Daddy! He just wants to play!”
“He needs to play inhisyard,” Rhonan says, lunging for Roscoe as he darts to the right and races up the deck steps, skidding to a stop when he reaches Ellis.
“Sit, puppy.” Ellis points to the deck below her, and much to my and Rhonan’s surprise, Roscoe obeys. “Good boy,” she says proudly, scratching his head.
Rhonan’s hands land on his hips as he stares up at his daughter from the yard. “How did you get him to listen?”
Ellis pets Roscoe’s head as he tries to lick her hand. She giggles.
“The dog would probably stop running around if you’d stop chasing it.” Joanne says dryly from the porch, behind Ellis.
Wait. I thought that washerhouse. What are Rhonan and Ellis doing there?
I seriously hope Joanne is just another relative they’re visiting.
“How the hell am I supposed to get it to go back home, then?” He pushes a hand through his hair, the same hair that I itched to bury my fingers in last week.
God, that night feels like another life at this point, and certainly one that can’t be mine.
There’s no way the man I had the most natural and liberating night of my life with turns out to be the father of one of my studentsandmy new neighbor.
Would you expect anything less at this point, Vienna? Perhaps Lydia is pulling some strings up there to force you to live recklessly?
For a second, I debate how much longer I’m supposed to let this go on before I say something, but Ellis spots me first and her face lights up.
“Ms. Lewis?”
Joanne and Rhonan’s heads twist in my direction, meeting my eyes as I stand frozen in place. I wave timidly. “Hi, Ellis.”
Rhonan pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing before walking in my direction. When he arrives at the fence, I can see the frustration on his face. “Your dog—”
“Got out of my yard,” I finish for him. “But there’s no way that this is…” My words trail off as I gesture helplessly to his side of the fence.
“My yard?” he finishes for me, a displeased arch in his brow. “Oh, it absolutely is.”
Shit. I don’t even know why I’m surprised at this point.
“Okay… So,nowI understand how you knew about my dog,” I say, trying to make light of the situation.
Rhonan looks less than amused. “He dug under the fence this morning and already got my heart rate up. I put bricks in the hole, but he won’t be outsmarted because he just dug another hole and returned this evening.”
