"I see. She’s a… well… she has character," Ginny finally said.
The corgi barked.
"Is that… Gus?" Carter asked. "I can’t believe my cousin is forcing you to work on Thanksgiving."
"It's okay." Ginny laughed. "Gus is my last one. Everyone wants their dogs in top form for Thanksgiving. Brandy… my sister," she explained to Allie, "was supposed to help me. Of course she's not here."
"Shocking," Carter said dryly.
Brandy was notoriously flakey.
"I franchised the dog grooming business, and my New York City shop is pretty busy today, so my other workers are over there."
"Where’s Brandy?"
"Who knows? Off with Fernando, her fiancé, probably."
"When is their wedding?" Carter asked.
"End of September," Ginny replied. "She convinced poor Liz, my husband's sister, to be her maid of honor. No one else wanted to do it."
"I can’t imagine why," Carter said wryly.
"Why not?" Allie asked.
"Oh," Ginny said, flipping through some of the items she had in stock, "Brandy is very intense and demanding."
Ginny pulled out a knit sweater and handed it to Allie. "For your Chihuahua. She looks chilly."
"Thanks," Carter said. "Put it on Grant's tab."
"Will do," Ginny said. She handed him Gus’s leash.
"Kate was supposed to come pick him up, but she’s not here, and you are, and I really do have to go shower and change."
The door swung open, and Kate rushed in.
"So sorry I’m late! Oh, hi, Carter. Hi, Allie. Hi, Margot!" Kate said and moved to pet the little white dog.
She growled.
"What’s wrong with your dog?" she asked Carter.
He grimaced. "She’s feral, I think."
"Are you sure it’s a dog?" Grant asked, coming in to the shop. "Hi, Ginny. Sorry we’re late. I was on a call."
After they left the dog-grooming boutique, Carter studied Grant. His cousin had been previously unknown to their entire family until after the fire that killed Carter’s younger cousins. His uncle Walter revealed that he had had a son who was a full-blooded sibling of the kids who died. Kate had found Grant after months of searching.
Grant was everything Carter always wished he were. Strong, steadfast, confident. He had always thought he was his uncle Walter's favorite, but seeing Walter with Grant reminded Carter that he wasn’t all that important to his uncle. Or to his father, really.
"And they thought that it was a cat! But it was a possum!" Grant said, laughing as he finished some story.
"I think Margot’s a dog. Partially," Kate said.
Carter looked the dog over. In the sunlight, her missing eye and leg and patchy fur coat were glaring deficiencies.
"Come with us," Kate said. "We’re stopping by the bakery and picking up the desserts for tonight."
