What the Dog Ate (25 page)

He set the first board in place and
asked her to hold it while he nailed it in.

“Why don’t you just ask him if he’s
planning to fly home for Thanksgiving?” he said as he drove the nails in with a
few swift pounds of the hammer. “If not, you invite him.”

“I suppose.” She grabbed the next
board and handed it to him. “Is Natalia coming?”

“No, she’s spending the holiday with
her parents in Maine,” he lisped a bit due to the nails between his teeth.

“It’s not that far. She could come
down for the day or something.”

“No. It’s cool. I’d rather go
alone.”

“Do you think I should go alone?”

“I don’t know. Depends how serious
you are about this guy. Do you want him to meet your family?”

“We’ve only been dating a month.
I’m not planning to get serious at all... I just thought it’d be fun to have
him come along. It makes it so much more of a big deal since it’s this whole
cross-country trip. Wish they were getting married here. After all, her family
lives here.”

“Yes, it would be better if they
planned their wedding around what works for you.” He grinned at her, then
positioned the last board into place.

She started to hold it for him, but
then yanked her hand away.

“Ouch!” A fine splinter had
embedded itself in her middle finger.

“Let me see that.” Russell took her
hand in between his large, rough ones and examined it. “I’m going to have to
amputate. Let’s move over to the saw.”

“Let me go get my tweezers, you
clown.” She tried to pull away.

“No, I can get it.” He bent his
head over her hand and inspected it, then pinched at the skin. “The end’s
sticking out.”

While he concentrated on the
operation, she looked at the brown curls at the back of his tan neck. Like
whorls of mocha cake frosting, it was tough to keep her fingers out of them. He
was so close she could smell him, that leather-rain-and-ginger scent. She
closed her eyes for the briefest of moments.

“Got it.” He displayed the offending
sliver on his fingertip. “You’re good as new.”

“Thanks.” Her voice cracked. She
swallowed and hoped he hadn’t noticed. “Handyman, surgeon, donut delivery guy.
Is there any limit to your talents?”

“You may never know.” He winked and
turned to hammer in the last board.

God, he’s such
a flirt
. She blinked a few times, then started gathering up the old
wood.

As he packed up his tools he asked
about the play they were going to see.

“It’s new. It’s about the
alienation we feel in our mindlessly consumerist society.”

He laughed. “Oh, a comedy then?
That sounds like fun.”

“It will be... OK, maybe not fun,
but... enriching. Why, what are you and Natalia doing tonight?”

“We’re going to snuggle up on the
couch and be enriched by a Will Ferrell movie while mindlessly consuming a
pizza the size of your dining room table.”

“Well, if that’s your idea of a
good time. Hey, I owe you big time for helping me
again
.”

“No problem. My pleasure.”

They turned away from the fence and
saw Kona standing in the center of the patio table, his head in the donut box.

As Maggie pulled into the visitor
parking at Brian’s, she worried the security guard might not let her in with
Kona, since he was over three times heavier than the building association’s
weight limit for pets. She called Brian on her cell and asked him to come down
and let them in.

“Isn’t Tony at the desk? He’ll buzz
you in.”

“I don’t know if he’s there. I’m
still in the car. You’re sure it’s OK to bring Kona in?”

“It’s fine, but if it makes you
feel better, I’ll come down and help you smuggle him in.”

“Should we smuggle him? Is there a
back way?”

“I was joking. I’ll be right down.”

When Brian came downstairs, he took
Kona’s leash and walked across the slate-tiled lobby like he owned the
building. Kona, wagging his tail and grinning like the ambassador from Labrador,
garnered a “hey boy” and pat on the head from Tony, who came out of his
glass-enclosed office to greet the dog.

“OK, you were right,” she said when
they got in the elevator.

“Do you feel like we just got away
with something? It’s exciting, huh?” He pulled her close. “If you really want a
thrill, maybe later we could sneak into the laundry room and wash a load of
whites after hours.” He dropped Kona’s leash and kissed her.

He was wearing his navy blazer with
a pale lavender shirt. The outfit made his gray eyes a pale blue shade, like
the sky on a hot August afternoon.

She pulled away. “Stop teasing. I
know I get a little crazy, but are you sure the dogs’ll be OK home alone? I’m a
little nervous about it. Hope Kona’s not picking up on my energy.”

Brian laughed. “Wow, that sounded
very California.”

“It’s true. Dogs do pick up on your
vibe.”

“Yes, he looks terribly concerned.”
He pointed at Kona, reclining against the back wall of the elevator, his mouth
hanging open in his ever-present grin.

“OK, well, Kona’s just not much of
a worrier, but
normal
dogs pick up on their owner’s
energy,” Maggie said as they reached the fifteenth floor.

“I’m certain you’re right. But I’m
also certain they’ll be fine.” He opened the door to the condo, calling out,
“Peaches, your boyfriend’s here.”

Her toenails clicked down the hall
like tiny castanets. Kona perked up at the sound. As she rounded the corner, he
lowered his head to his front feet, rear end still up in the air in the
traditional, “Hey, let’s play” invitation. Peaches stopped short when she saw
the big dog, lifted one paw and flattened her ears.

Maggie tensed. But then Peaches let
out a yip, swung her ears forward like radar antennae, and wiggled her tiny
whip of a tail.

The two dogs scampered into the
living room where Kona surprised Maggie by playing very gently and never once
even trying to put the Chihuahua’s head in his mouth.

They had time before their pre-play
dinner reservation so they decided to have a glass of wine before they left.
From the sofa, they watched King Kong chase Fay Wray around the coffee table in
a game of tag that alternated between fast forward and stop-action slow motion.

Maggie noticed that Brian had moved
a blown-glass vase and matching shallow bowl that normally sat on the coffee
table to the mantel piece. She checked the room, hoping there was nothing her
sweet-natured but ham-handed hound could get into while they were out.

Twenty minutes in, the game was
finally on pause.

“We should probably get going,”
Brian said. Maggie had finished her inventory and didn’t see any potential
problems. Still...

“You’re sure you’re OK with leaving
them alone? Maybe we could have a neighbor check in?” she asked as he helped
wrap her in her pashmina. It was a crisp fall evening, but not cold enough for
a jacket. She’d decided her pink pashmina would do. Besides, she thought it was
pretty with her white blouse and black pencil skirt. But now, when she caught a
flash of her reflection in the mirror above the mantel, Good & Plenty
candies came to mind.

“They’ll be fine.” He lifted the
ends of her hair caught under the shawl and arranged them on her back. “I’m
terrible. I didn’t even tell you yet that you look good.” He emphasized the
last word with a kiss, while she thought, And plenty. She consoled herself with
the thought that maybe the pink and white licorice candies were before his
time.

The play was, as she’d figured it
would be, deep. Very deep. She’d felt a need for scuba gear at one point. Brian
thought the play was wonderful and thought-provoking, although he complained
about the set direction. And about the fact that he’d counted “at least twelve
people wearing jeans and one idiot in shorts.”

“People are just super casual here,”
Maggie tried to explain. “It’s a beach town.”

On the drive to his condo she
remembered the dogs. Home alone. Would his silk pillows be intact? His hardwood
floors puddle free? Kona hadn’t chewed a piece of furniture or peed in the
house in years, but still, she’d never left him alone in a strange place
before.

Kissing her as they rode up in the
elevator, Brian seemed oblivious to the possible destruction that might await
them. She didn’t say anything, but held her breath when Brian opened the door.
He returned to kissing her, moved her toward the bedroom, untucked her blouse.
She took advantage of his concentration on her skirt’s zipper to scan the
living room. He’d left the accent lights on that lit his paintings and
sculptures, so she was able to see that everything was fine. They’d come in so
quietly, she assumed they hadn’t woken Kona, and he must be sleeping soundly in
the guestroom with Peaches. She let out a sigh of relief, which segued into a
sigh of desire.

They worked their way into his dark
bedroom, a tangle of shirtsleeves and stubborn buttons. In their haste, they
forgot to close the bedroom door. Free of their clothes, they tumbled onto the
bed.

“Hrrmmph.”

Three heads were silhouetted by
pale moonbeams as they looked up in unison.

They had landed beside Kona, who
had apparently been deeply asleep on Brian’s pristine pale blue matelasse bed
cover. His tail thumped when he saw them.

Brian reached to turn on the
bedside lamp.

“No, not the light,” Maggie yelled
too late. She snatched her pashmina off the floor and wrapped it around her
naked self.

Peaches ran in, yapping as if
tattling, “I told him he wasn’t allowed up there!”

Kona jumped onto all fours,
jostling the bed, then lowered his head, inviting Peaches in on the game. He
added his booming bark to the melee and hopped from side to side.

Maggie held her pink security
blanket in place with one hand, while she pushed at Kona with the other, and
scolded him, “Get off!” They’d made a nest for him in the corner of the
guestroom next to Peaches’ basket. He was supposed to have curled up on the old
blanket where they’d set his favorite stuffed rabbit as the indicator that this
would be his bed for the evening.

Brian laughed and rolled on to his
back. He stretched his arms over his head as he surveyed the scene, then pulled
them back. “Ewww. What the... ?”

They turned. There was Kona’s
rabbit, soggy with drool, lying upon the pillows like a gold-foil-wrapped
chocolate left by the maid during turn-down service. And, trailing from the
rabbit to where Kona had been, was a trail of blood; little red splotches, like
rose petals, marked a path down the center of the pale blue bedspread.

“What the...,” Brian said again.
“Look at this mess.” He got off the bed, and stood, hands on hips, in his
Calvin Klein briefs.

They looked at Kona, whom Maggie
had finally pushed off the bed. Dark, dried blood crusted the lower half of his
left ear.

“Ohmygosh, what happened?” Maggie
inspected his ear and found a small puncture. “Poor baby.” She turned to Brian.
“I think your dog bit him.”

“No.” He walked to the other side
of the bed where Maggie knelt next to Kona and flipped the dog’s ear to inspect
the underside. “Well, maybe. But he must have done something to her. She
wouldn’t bite him unprovoked.”

So, you’re saying this is Kona’s
fault, she thought, but did not say aloud. She picked up her underwear and
wiggled into them under her pashmina-wrapper.
Although, I
guess Kona can be pretty provoking. Suppose I should offer to buy a new
bedspread, even though this is his dog’s fault. Maybe I’ll suggest
he’s
the one that needs to hire a dog trainer
.

“Do you have a T-shirt I could put
on while we clean this up? We could try soaking this.” She started to pull the
bedspread up. “If the stains don’t come out, I could buy you a new one.”

“You don’t have to do that. It’s
Peaches’ fault.”

Darn right
.

She was glad Brian had acknowledged
this was his dog’s doing, but things still seemed tense as they silently
cleaned Kona’s ear, wiped up more drops of blood they found on the hardwood
floor, and moved Kona’s blanket out of the guestroom and into the kitchen. But
then, while they were scrubbing the bed cover in cold water in the tub, Brian
playfully flicked water at Maggie. “Hey,” she yelled and splashed him back.
They laughed and tussled on the bathroom rug until he pinned her on the floor
and kissed her, then helped her up and led her back to his bed.

Later, while the dogs snored at
opposite ends of the condo, Maggie and Brian spooned in the dark in his bed.

“I’m sorry if I seemed a little... testy
earlier,” Brian said into her hair.

“You don’t have to apologize. I
knew I shouldn’t have brought Kona over here.”

“No, it’s all good. They’re fine
now. Besides, if you hadn’t brought him, you might not be here still, and then
I couldn’t do this.” He brushed her hair off her neck and nibbled her earlobe.
She giggled and snuggled closer to him. She wondered if she should ask him now
about the wedding. Kona certainly wouldn’t put off asking. And now seemed as
good a time as any.

She rolled over to face him. “What
are you doing for Thanksgiving? Are you going to your parents?”

“No. My mother wants me to come for
Christmas, so I thought I’d stay here for Thanksgiving. How about you? Going to
Florida?”

“No, Boston. Remember I told you my
brother’s getting married?” she fiddled with her pendant. “It’s the Saturday
after Thanksgiving, so my whole family’s going to be in Boston. And... well, I
wondered if you’d want to come?”

“That sounds perfect. I’d love to
meet your family.” He stroked her cheek. “Let’s go online in the morning and
book it.”