I need to quit weddings, I decided.They take up too much time. And now I have this dog.The puppy looked up at me hungrily as I ate a sandwich later that evening in my condo kitchen. I dropped a piece of chicken to the puppy, who pounced on it.
“If you’re going to live here, I need to name you,” I told him. “Especially since you’re my ticket out of that fundraiser and that date. How about…Beowulf? That’s an auspicious name.”
The puppy barked and pounced on my shoe, chewing on the lace.
I felt slightly guilty that I was planning on standing up the Instagrammer but not bad enough to actually go with her to the fundraiser. Technically, Wes had invited her. If he wanted her there that badly, he could take her.
Besides, surely I had maxed my quota of dealing with artistic women for today. I’d already had to deal with the short, hostile seamstress earlier. Someone who wanted to be charitable would describe her as feisty. She was also comfortably plump and brutally honest and said what was on her mind.
“If she wasn’t so irritating,” I said to the dog as I took the last bite, “she would be intriguing.”
We were interrupted by pounding on the door.
“Mark!” my mother yelled. “Open up this door this instant.”
“Showtime,” I whispered to the dog. I picked up the puppy, blotted his nose with a paper towel so it would feel dry, wrapped him in a blanket, and deposited him on the couch. Then I let my parents into my condo.
“Mark,” my mother said. She was in a robe, her hair in rollers for the Holbrook Foundation charity event in a couple of hours. “Why on earth are you not coming to this fundraiser?”
“You know we rely on you,” Jack, my father, said with a frown. He had the same dark hair and blue eyes that all the men of my family had, though his face bore a few more lines.
“You’re supposed to be the responsible one,” my mother insisted. “Your brother, Carter, is supposed to be the flake. What is more important than this charity function?”
“My dog is sick,” I lied.
“You have a dog?” my father asked in surprise.
“He’s a new addition,” I said smoothly. “He’s been ill, an unfortunate side effect from a life on the hostile streets of New York City.” The puppy did cut a pathetic image all bundled up on the couch.
My mother’s face softened. “He’s so little!” she exclaimed, sitting down on the couch next to the puppy.
Pretend to be sick. I sent mental thought waves to the dog. The puppy gave a pathetic little cough.
“See?” I told my mom. “I have to stay here.”
She and my father exchanged a glance.
“It is nice to see you do something other than work,” my father said. He patted me on the shoulder. “Your mom and I were worried about you after…everything,” he said awkwardly. “A pet will be good for you. I think he can be off the hook tonight, Nancy,” Jack said to my mom. “We’ll save some food for you.”
At the word “food,” the puppy barked and wriggled out of the blanket, tail wagging furiously.
My mother raised an eyebrow. “Seems he’s made a miraculous recovery.”
I picked up the dog, and he wriggled and made little whining noises.
“He just perked up because of the promise of food,” I said. “But he is sick, honestly.”
“I think he might have just needed to go out,” my father said, pointing. A little dribble of pee was coursing down my shirt.
I cursed and ran the puppy to the balcony, where I’d had a patch of grass installed. He was still too young to be taken out to parks yet, as he hadn’t had all of his shots. I hastily unbuttoned my shirt as I came back inside.
“Liz’s boots were delivered from the shoemaker,” my mother said, handing me a bag. “The package was labeled with our apartment number and not Wes’s. I was going to take them up, but now you can, since everyone here is healthy. I need to head over to the hotel for the fundraiser. I will see you there sharply at seven.”
I let out a snarl after my parents left. “Just my luck.”
I needed a shower, and I didn’t want to put on another shirt and dirty it too. Cursing the puppy, who was milling around the living room, I took the bag up. Besides, Wes was just one floor above me. I quickly took the stairs two at a time up to his apartment.
The door was unlocked, so I let myself in, calling, “Liz? Wes? I have your shoes. I’m going to leave them in the—”
