Her father looked up when she entered. He was exactly where she’d left him: in his recliner. To her surprise, the television was on. Somehow he’d managed to avoid having the power cut off.

  “Well, look who’s here,” he said with a satisfied smirk, as if he fully expected her to move back.

  “I brought you a Whopper.” She stepped farther into the room to hand him the brown bag.

  “You think you can buy your way back into my good graces?” he asked, clearly pleased. “It’s going to take a lot more than a hamburger.”

  “I’m sure it will,” she said. Arguing with him wouldn’t serve either of them well.

  He tore open the bag and reached for the burger.

  “You paid the electric bill?” Where he got the funds, she could only imagine.

  He ignored the question as he wolfed down the Whopper. Without her there to see to his meals, she worried he’d survive solely on Bud Light.

  It didn’t look like he was in the most communicative mood. She’d done what she’d come for. This was her good deed for the day, and it was time she left.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, his mouth full of food.

  “I tutor this afternoon. I only stopped by to see how you’re doing.”

  He laughed, as though he found her excuse amusing. “Sure you did. You left me to fend for myself and now you feel bad. Surprise, surprise, I’m doing perfectly fine without you.”

  “I can see that,” she said, again refusing to get into an angry exchange with him.

  “I figured it wouldn’t take you long to come to your senses.”

  “Dad,” she said softly, so as not to arouse his anger. “I’m not coming back.”

  He frowned, as if he found it hard to believe.

  “Is there anything you need before I go?” she asked.

  He stared at her and shook his head.

  “I’m glad you have electricity.”

  “Go, then,” he snapped, and pointed toward the door, as if she didn’t know where it was located. “Get out and don’t come back. I’ve got news for you. I can take care of myself.”

  “So I see. I’m happy to know you can. It would have been miserable for you without power.”

  He sat up a bit straighter in his recliner. “You think I was going to fall apart without you. Well, I’ve got news for you. I talked to those people at the city and found a program that will keep the lights on.”

  Her father had tackled the problem on his own. Maggie wouldn’t have believed he could solve anything by himself. This meant he either had to make a phone call or stop by the city office on his own. This was progress.

  “I’m proud of you, Dad.”

  He snorted, as though he didn’t believe her. “Didn’t need you then, and I don’t need you now.”

  “You’ll do great without me,” she said. “I’ll stop by again next week.”

  “Don’t bother,” he called after her. “You aren’t welcome here.”

  “Okay, I won’t,” she said, losing her cool.

  She opened the door and was about to leave when she heard him speak again, almost under his breath.

  “If you do come, bring another Whopper.”

  Maggie smiled as she headed back to where she’d parked her car.

  * * *

  —

  Once she finished with her tutoring, she drove to Joan’s, all the while silently debating if she should mention having met Nick. She noticed how nice the yard looked since Phil Harrison had taken over the maintenance.

  Maggie found Joan sitting at the kitchen table with a sleeping puppy in her lap. She looked up when Maggie entered the room. “I think No Name has his days and nights mixed up. He sleeps most of the day and cries all night.”

  “Poor baby,” Maggie cooed, as she gently patted his head. At her touch, No Name opened his sleepy eyes and lifted his head to look at her.

  “If anyone deserves sympathy, it’s me,” Joan said, yawning as she spoke. “I had no idea a puppy could be this much trouble.”

  Maggie pulled out a chair and sat. Her look must have been troubled, because Joan asked, “Is there something on your mind?”

  She nodded. “I think I might have met Nick.”

  “My Nick? Silly question,” she asked with a shake of her head, as if she realized what she’d said.

  “I’ve seen him quite a bit in the last couple weeks, without knowing who he was. He comes by Starbucks before work with his friend Kurt. Kurt calls him Einstein, so I didn’t make the connection until Kurt mentioned Einstein had given his mother a puppy.”

  “The work crew calls him Einstein?”

  Maggie nodded. “From what Kurt said, it’s because they’re on a trivia team and Nick is their ace in the hole.”

  Joan studied her and frowned slightly. “Nick does play trivia. From your frown I’d say you don’t have a good impression of my son.”

  “But I do,” she corrected quickly. “I like him, but when he asked me out, I didn’t know what to say and made up a ridiculous excuse about it being against company policy to date a customer.”

  “Oh Maggie, you didn’t need to do that. Nick is going to find out I’ve taken in a boarder sooner or later.”

  What Joan said was true. In retrospect, Maggie should have handled this awkward situation differently. Now it was too late.

  “From what Kurt said, Nick had tried to give the dog to several other people first before he decided No Name would go to you.”

  Joan laughed. “That sounds like my son. As a kid he often got himself into messes he couldn’t find his way out of.”

  “I liked him up to that point.”

  “Don’t judge him too harshly, Maggie. Nick has a good heart.”

  Maggie wasn’t sure she believed that.

  Chapter 14

  “Come on, No Name,” Joan urged, as the puppy galloped across the front lawn. She swore he smelled every blade of grass before leaping forward to chase after a butterfly.

  “This isn’t time for fun and games,” Joan chastised. She tried to sound stern, but the puppy’s antics made her laugh. He was determined to discover this new world. “You’re supposed to do your business, not chase butterflies.”

  No Name looked more like a kangaroo than a puppy as he galivanted across the grass, causing Joan to shake her head in defeat. She’d had limited success housebreaking him, which was why she spent more time in her yard than in the house. She hadn’t been outside this much in years, and it felt good.

  She’d read on the Internet that the best way to housebreak a puppy was to take the little one outside every two hours, as well as immediately upon waking and after eating. Which made sense. To be on the safe side, Joan had set a timer for every hour. No Name had yet to get the hint, though. What she didn’t want was for him to assume the best spot to pee was beneath the dining room table, which he had already done more than once.

  She would need patience and more patience. Sooner or later, God willing, he would understand why she’d brought him outside. All she could hope was that he caught on soon. To this point, No Name had far too much fun chasing butterflies and bees or anything else that captured his attention.

  Although she’d protested that she hadn’t wanted a dog, she could see the wisdom in having one. After living basically as a hermit for four years, she was making positive changes, and they all seemed to be coming at once.

  She enjoyed having Maggie live with her, and the puppy kept her on her toes. Life had meaning and purpose for the first time in years.

  The school bus stop was down the street and the big yellow bus pulled up to let the grade school kids out. It was a lovely afternoon, one of those rare sunny ones in May.

  Joan watched as the kids raced down the sidewalk toward their homes, backpacks flapping as they ran. Her boys had once ridden that same bus to and from school and hurried home, knowing she would have a snack on the kitchen counter ready for them.

  Two of the children headed in her direction and stopped when they saw No Name rolling around on his back.

  “Is that your puppy?” the boy asked. He looked to be in first or second grade, with ruddy cheeks and a head full of red hair.

  “He is.”

  “What’s his name?” the girl with him asked. No question she was his older sister, possibly in fourth grade, with the same red hair and freckles.

  “I haven’t got a name for him yet,” Joan confessed.

  “Why not?”

  Joan had tried out several, but none of them seemed to fit the adventurous little fellow. “I haven’t found the right one yet.”

  “How about Floyd?” the boy suggested. His backpack had his name embroidered on the back. Todd. His sister had the same style of backpack, only in a different color. Her name was Ellie.

  His sister slapped his arm. “That’s an awful name.”

  “Do you have a better idea?”

  “Yes,” Ellie insisted with a tone of righteousness. Being older, she seemed to assume she was by far superior.

  “Then what is it?” Todd challenged.

  “Snicklefritz.”

  Joan hid a smile.

  “What kind of name is that?” Shaking his head in disbelief, Todd looked to Joan for support. “I bet she just made that up.”

  “It’s a good name,” Ellie insisted.

  “While it’s clever, it’s a bit of a mouthful.” Joan credited Ellie for her imagination.

  No Name noticed the two children and scurried toward them, seeing them as his next adventure.

  “He’s so cute,” Ellie said, kneeling down on the grass. “Can I hold him?” She looked up to Joan for permission.

  “Of course. Just be careful, he’s still a baby.”

  “Can I hold him, too?” Todd asked.

  “Sure. As soon as Ellie is finished.”

  Both children sat in the grass, sharing the puppy. No Name cherished the attention and repeatedly licked their hands.

  “I wanted a dog and Dad said I could have one, but we have to get the backyard fenced first.”

  “You can come visit No Name anytime you want,” Joan offered.

  “Can we really?” Todd’s eyes lit up like twin flares.

  Ellie glared at her little brother. “She said we could, dummy.”

  “I’m not the dummy. You’re the dummy.”

  Their bickering reminded Joan of when her own boys were children. They constantly harped on each other, too. She didn’t remember this much sibling rivalry between her and Emmie, but then Emmie was several years older and had always looked after Joan. Come to think of it, she still did.

  “Do you live here?” Todd questioned. “Because my mom said she thought the house was empty.”

  “I’ve lived here a long time,” Joan explained. The neighborhood had been populated with young families when Jared and Joan first moved into the house. Several families had since sold and moved away. These days, her neighbors were strangers.

  “We moved here last summer,” Ellie said. “Dad said he thought your house might be for sale.”

  “I didn’t get outside much,” Joan admitted. Like hardly ever. No reason to venture out, certainly not during the pandemic. All that had changed since her birthday, and she was glad of it.

  “What about naming him Oliver?” Todd said.

  Joan considered his suggestion and then shook her head. “He doesn’t look like an Oliver to me. I’ll come up with a name soon.” She’d need to; otherwise, the poor puppy would suffer an identity crisis.

  “He’s rowdy. You could name him that.”

  “Rowdy?” Joan mulled it over in her mind. That might work.

  “That’s what Mom calls me,” Todd informed her.

  “Well, you are,” his sister concurred.

  A harried-looking woman came down the sidewalk as if on a search. The baby on her hip gripped hold of the neckline of her blouse as if she needed to anchor herself. The woman paused when she saw Ellie and Todd sitting on the grass with Joan standing nearby.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked her children, clearly frustrated. “You know you’re supposed to come directly home from the bus stop.”

  “Mom, look. She has a puppy.” Todd leaped to his feet and Ellie followed. No Name stretched his tiny body up against Todd’s leg as if he wanted the boy to pick him up for more cuddling time.

  Joan knew where the children got their red hair, although their mother’s was more auburn than red. The baby on her hip sucked on a pacifier. “I apologize if they were bothering you.”

  “Not in the least,” Joan assured her. “They’re helping me name my dog. Your children are welcome to stop by anytime.”

  “That’s more than kind of you. I’m Kylie Pursell and I can see you’ve already met Ellie and Todd.”

  “Joan Sample. I’m pleased to meet you, Kylie.”

  “I best get these ragamuffins home.”

  “ ’Bye, Joan,” Ellie said, as she left the yard. “Let me know what you decide to name No Name.”

  “Will do,” she promised.

  Once back inside the house, Joan set No Name in his crate. Maggie was due back anytime. The girl certainly lived a busy life between school and two jobs. Joan couldn’t help but admire her determination to succeed. The day before, she’d gotten word that one of the scholarships she’d applied for had been awarded to a classmate. While discouraged, Maggie had been happy for her friend. When Joan questioned her about it, Maggie said there were still three other scholarships available that she had yet to receive word on. Instead of feeling depressed and unhappy, she looked at the bright side. Joan admired the young woman’s positive attitude.

  It was time to think about what to make for dinner. Joan retrieved her most trusted cookbook for ideas. Seeing what a lovely afternoon it’d turned out to be, she was thinking of something light. One of her favorite summertime meals had always been soup and/or a salad. She flipped to the soup recipe she had flagged. Homemade tomato soup. Incredible how simple the recipe was.

  She’d assembled the ingredients on the kitchen counter when the front door opened.

  “I’m back,” Maggie said, unnecessarily. She joined Joan in the kitchen.

  “How was your day?” Joan asked, as she brought out the kettle. “I hope you like tomato soup.”

  “I do.”

  “Toasted cheese?”

  “Perfect. But you don’t need—”

  “Maggie,” Joan chastised, “we’ve already been over this. I enjoy cooking, and sharing the meal with you gives me an excuse to do what I enjoy. I get no pleasure from eating alone. Besides, we make a good team. I cook and you clean up after me.”

  “It’s the least I can do.” Maggie opened the refrigerator and brought out a pitcher of iced tea. “Is your meeting tonight?”

  Joan groaned inwardly. “Don’t remind me.” In a moment of weakness, she’d shared her reluctance to attend this grief therapy session with Maggie. She’d hoped Maggie would side with her. Instead, her boarder had encouraged her to make the most of it.

  “It’s just the one time,” Maggie reminded her. “If you don’t like it, then there’s no obligation to return. Isn’t that what you said?”

  “Yes,” Joan muttered, although she’d already made up her mind.

  Taking a glass of the iced tea, Maggie went over to the crate to remove No Name. She set him in her lap, and the puppy licked her arm. “Have you decided on a name yet?”

  “Not yet. A couple of the kids from the neighborhood stopped by and gave me a few ideas, but none of them seemed to fit.”

  “He’s so darn cute.”

  “You know, I was dead set against having a dog. I didn’t want him when Nick dropped him off. I tried to tell him to take him away, but Nick refused to listen. I’m grateful he didn’t. That little puppy has added light to my life.”

  Maggie’s head shot up. “Light,” she repeated slowly, and then nibbled on her lower lip as if mulling over an idea. “What about naming him Edison, the inventor of the lightbulb.”

  Joan paused and set the can of crushed tomatoes down on the counter as she turned. “Edison,” she repeated slowly. “I like it.” Walking over to where Maggie sat with the puppy in her lap, Joan placed her hand on his head. “I hereby dub you Edison, companion of light to Joan Sample.”

  “And to Maggie Herbert,” Maggie added.

  Maggie went up to her room, and Joan started dinner. She was reading over the soup recipe again when the phone rang. Checking the caller ID, she saw that it was her son Steve.

  “Steve,” she greeted, more than pleased to hear from him.

  “Hey, Mom,” he replied, sounding cheerful as usual, “just checking in to see how you’re doing.”

  “I’m good, really good.” And for the first time in a long while, Joan meant it.

  “I talked to Nick,” Steve said, his upbeat tone changing, “and he said he’d pawned off a dog on you.”

  “A puppy, you mean.” She glanced down at Edison, who was chewing on a toy, and smiled. Edison demanded a lot of patience and energy, but she’d quickly fallen in love with him.

  Steve groaned with irritation. “A puppy?”

  “It’s fine. I wasn’t keen on the idea at first, but I’ve come around. Edison adds light to my life.”

  “Nick said you were lonely, and this was supposed to be a help.”

  “His intentions were good. No worries, Steve.”