Page 157 of Save the Date
“Sure am. My severance check from the cruise line finally came today, so I am out—like the fat kid in dodgeball.” Zoey laughed at her own little joke.
Shaz had managed to wriggle her whole upper body out of the toylike VW window.
“Does Jack know you’re leaving?” Cara asked.
“He’ll figure it out when he gets home and sees that Shaz is gone.”
“Where are you moving?” In her mind’s eye, Cara could picture Jack arriving back at Macon Street, opening the door, and waiting for the dog to nearly knock him down with her bad-mannered adoration.
“New Orleans,” Zoey said brightly. “I’m going to teach at a new studio that just opened in the French Quarter. It’s called Sweatbox. Cool, huh? And I’ve rented the cutest little furnished efficiency you’ve ever seen, on the third floor above it.”
Cara frowned, thinking of Shaz cooped up in a third-floor studio all day. Jack’s cottage might be small, but it had its own fenced backyard, and these days, she knew, more often than not, Jack took Shaz with him to his job sites.
She turned her attention back to Zoey. “Why are you telling me all this?”
Zoey’s laugh was deep and throaty. She could have had a great career doing phone sex. “That’s a very good question. First off, before I leave town, yeah, I wanted to check you out, see what the hot attraction was between you two. Honestly? I don’t get it. But you know what? I have no regrets. You want Jack Finnerty? Honey, you can have him. Yeah, he’s cute, and he’s great in bed. But you already know that, right?”
Cara stared up at the blonde, wondering where this was going, and whether she should admit that she and Jack were no longer an item.
“But here’s something you might not have realized yet. He might have a hot body, but deep down, Jack is cold. He’s cold and he’s emotionally unavailable. He walls himself off from you, and there’s no breaking that down. And did I mention he’s a tightwad? We lived together for over a year, and he never bought me the first piece of jewelry.”
And yet, Cara thought. She and Jack had slept together exactly three times by his accounting, and then he’d gone out and bought her a building. A three-story $750,000 building. And to thank him, she’d thrown it right back in his face. Figuratively speaking.
Shaz barked, and Zoey looked over her shoulder and frowned. “Quiet, baby, we’re leaving in just a minute.”
Cara’s mind was working. She kept picturing Jack, walking into that cottage and realizing just how empty it really was.
“It’s a long ride to New Orleans,” she said, trying to sound casual. “And it’s so hot. You don’t want her to get dehydrated. Why don’t you let me take Shaz out back to my courtyard, where my dog is? I’ll give her some water and she can have one more potty stop before you hit the road.”
“Okay, yeah, whatever,” Zoey said carelessly. She opened the VW’s door and Shaz bounced out, like an overinflated helium balloon. Zoey pulled a cell phone from the pocket of her shorts and leaned back against the car. “I’ll just wait here for her.”
***
Cara opened the door to the courtyard, and on spotting Poppy, Shaz barked a happy greeting. Poppy dropped the headless rubber doll she’d been chewing on, and came over to sniff Shaz’s muffle, and then her butt. A moment later, Shaz grabbed the toy Poppy had dropped, and lay down on the bricks to give it a chew.
“Come here, Poppy,” Cara called softly, looking back over her shoulder to make sure she was unobserved. For once, the dog obeyed. Cara wrapped her arms around the dog’s shoulders, inhaling the smell of her freshly shampooed fur. Poppy licked Cara’s neck and chin, while, with trembling fingers, Cara unbuckled her pink plaid collar and slipped it from her neck.
“I’m so sorry to do this to you,” she whispered in the dog’s silky ear. “But you’re just going to have to trust me. Okay? Do you trust me?”
Poppy’s tail beat a happy tattoo on the bricks.
***
“Okay,” Cara said, leading the dog out to the VW. “She’s all set to go.”
Zoey put her phone away, opened the car door and gestured. “Come on, Shaz. Let’s go! Let’s go for a nice ride.”
The dog planted its butt on the curb and looked from Zoey to Cara.
“Damn it, Shaz,” Zoey cried. She grabbed the dog’s neon-green collar and tugged. “Come on!” The dog resisted, even backing away from the VW.
Cara held her breath. “Let’s go, Shaz,” she said cheerily, giving the dog’s butt a gentle push. Finally, between the two of them, they managed to wedge her back into the VW’s passenger seat.
“Jack spoiled her rotten while I was gone,” Zoey griped, crossing around to the driver’s side. “Which is hysterical, since he claimed he never wanted a puppy in the first place. Now, he treats her way better than he ever treated me.” She gave Cara an appraising look. “You watch, he’ll do the same with your dog, now that Shaz is gone.”
“Maybe so,” Cara said. She stood back from the curb, and when the VW lurched away, she gave a sad little wave as it drove off, with the dog’s big fluffy head hanging out the window, looking backward.
***
