Page 124 of Save the Date
Cara heard scratching coming from the back of the shop. “Back in a sec,” she told her new assistant. She hurried down the hallway and opened the back door to let Poppy in from the garden.
“Good girl,” Cara said, scratching the puppy’s silken curls. “Come on, let’s go get you a treat.” The dog followed Cara back into the shop, and when she saw the newcomer standing at the flower cooler, barked happily and lunged for her.
“Ack!” Ginny stumbled backward, flailing her arms wildly. “Get off, get off!”
“Poppy, down!” Cara called. But Poppy was intent on greeting the newest member of the Bloom staff. She lunged again, planting her muddy front paws on Ginny’s pale pink blouse.
“No! Bad dog, bad dog,” Ginny shouted, shoving the dog violently away.
Cara grabbed for Poppy’s collar. “Poppy! No.” Poppy sank to the floor and looked embarrassed at her outburst.
“I’m so sorry,” Cara said, standing up. “She gets excited when somebody new comes in. I know it’s terrible manners, and I’ve got to take her back to obedience school, but really, she wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
Ginny looked warily at Poppy, who was now crouched under Cara’s side of the worktable, gnawing on a chew toy. She glanced down at the front of her blouse, brushing at the mud stains. “I’m not really a dog person,” she said, frowning. “She doesn’t have to stay here all the time, does she?”
“Actually, she does. Not necessarily in the shop, all day, because I let her out into the garden to play, but yes, since I live here, or wherever we move to next, Poppy does too. Is that going to be a problem?”
Ginny bit her lip. “Don’t your clients think it’s kind of… I don’t know, unprofessional—your having a pet in your place of business?”
“I’ve never had any complaints. In fact, most of my clients love having Poppy around.”
“It’s just that, when I interviewed, you didn’t say anything about a dog.” Ginny went to the kitchenette, wet a paper towel, and began dabbing at the front of her blouse.
“I”ll be happy to pay to have that cleaned,” Cara said.
“No need. It’ll probably come out,” Ginny said. She looked over at Poppy, who, misinterpreting the moment, lifted her head, tongue lolling, tail thumping enthusiastically. “Down,” Ginny said sternly.
***
Cara tied a pale blue satin ribbon and wrapped it around a potted azalea in a rattan basket. “Okay,” she said, standing and reaching for her purse. “I’m off. You can load everything in the van by yourself and make the deliveries, right? There are just six this morning, three for St. Joe’s, two for Memorial, and one for the Rose of Sharon apartments.”
Ginny nodded vigorously. “Right. That won’t be any problem.”
“I may be back late,” Cara warned, her hand on the front door. “Alice, my real-estate agent, has several properties to show me, and I don’t know how long I’ll be in South Carolina. If I’m not back by five, just bring the garden cart in, and lock up, like I showed you.”
“Wait,” Ginny called. “What about the dog? Aren’t you going to take her with you?”
“I can’t,” Cara said patiently. “She gets carsick unless I medicate her. Anyway, it’s ninety-two degrees already. I can’t leave her in a car while I look at buildings. Poppy’s really no trouble, Ginny. She’s house-trained, so you don’t have to worry about letting her out while you run the deliveries. If you do let her into the garden, please make sure the back gate is closed and locked, and check her water bowl to make sure it’s full. I’ll see you in the morning.”
***
Alice Murphy pulled her Cadillac alongside a stretch of curb on Waters Avenue. “Okay, Cara,” she said, her New England accent making it sound more like “Carer.” “This is the last one.”
She gestured at the single-story brick building. It was boxy, with a vaguely 1960s reference, but over the years multiple owners had successfully erased any kind of architectural personality it might once have possessed. Now it was painted the color of brown mustard. The tattered remnants of a tan awning stretched over a pair of dusty plate-glass windows, which were still painted with the name of the building’s most recently departed tenants—ACEY-DUECY AUTO DETAILING.
Cara eyed the building with disbelief. “Really? You think this is a good option?”
Alice sighed. “Oh, Cara, sweetheart. With your budget and the time frame we’re working with, this is the best I can do.”
She held up her hand, ticking off the building’s many desirable qualities. “One, it’s available immediately. You could move in today, if you wanted. Two, it’s dirt cheap. The owner’s desperate to get somebody in here. Three, it’s big. Huge. You can have a big workspace up front, and make a nice-sized apartment in the back. And four, you’ve got plenty of parking.”
“Wait. Back up, Alice. It doesn’t already have a living space?”
“Well… the owner says the last tenants were sort of illegally squatting. He thinks there were at least three families staying there.”
“Great. A combination flophouse and auto-detailing shop. I can’t wait to see it.”
Alice held out the keys and gave her an approving smile. “That’s my gal.”
