Page 1 of Second Chance for the Grump

1

MAISEY

River’s car idled behind us as we both approached the giant black metal box with caution. The restaurant had the black plastic tops shut, making it impossible to see inside the industrial trash can. The alley smelled like rotten cheeseburgers, and I didn’t want to question how I knew that smell.

“What if he’s in there?” I asked as we stopped in front of the bin.

River shook her head. “He’s not in there, Maisey.”

I turned to her, my hand hovering in front of me, not wanting to lift the can’s lid for a million reasons. “How do you know?”

She tapped the side of it, letting the sound echo down the alley, and smiled. “You’d hear him for one.”

“What if…” I swallowed hard, not wanting to say what I had to say. “What if he’s…”

“Dead?” she asked without hesitation.

I shoved my hand over her mouth. “Shhh!”

How could my best friend say that so callously about my baby? My child. The love of my life.

“Maisey,” she said, looking at me like I was a moron. “Even Jonathan isn’t that fucking horrible. He was a shit boyfriend, but he didn’t kill Charlie.”

My hand hesitated once again at the lid. “I can’t.”

“You owe me an entire container of disinfecting wipes,” she said with a cringe as she tipped open the top of the garbage can using her palm.

A sweet, sickly smell rushed out at us, and I gagged.

“Not there,” River said and almost dropped the lid.

“Wait.” I held her hand and stood on my tiptoes to see inside. “The GPS said he’s here.”

I’d put my phone back in my pocket, but we were right on top of the blinking dot when we got here.

“It’s empty,” she said at the same time my brain registered it.

The only thing in the dumpster was the smell of mold and rot, and it had a lot of that. “It doesn’t make sense.”

River let the plastic top fall from her fingers. It hit the dumpster with a thud as she wiped her hands on her dark-wash jeans and shrugged.

I paced around the side, looking for Charlie’s AirTag. “River, look!”

Her eyes widened as I stepped back into view holding a gray bag with brown puppies on it. “It’s Charlie’s diaper bag.”

She shook her head and started back toward her car with me following. “It’s so weird you have a diaper bag for a dog.”

“He has to bring his own snacks to daycare.” I rushed to catch up with her.

River got into her car and waited for me before she spoke again. “Yes, it’s weird that you take your dog to daycare.”

“Lots of dogs go to daycare.” I slammed the door shut and dug through his bag, finding the tracker right on top.

River backed out of the alley, and I didn’t ask where she planned to take us. “No one ever said there weren’t a lot of weird people in the world, Maisey.”

“Whatever, Charlie loves his friends at daycare.” Poodles had a lot of energy, especially since he was only two years old. Daycare gave him socialization, and he spent lots of energy running in their large playground. It was good for him.

River turned toward my home. “You need to call him,” she said as she slowed at my small two-bedroom ranch in the middle of a small cul-de-sac.