My person seemed extremely tense. “Come on,” he muttered. “Come on!”

  All of a sudden, he sat up straight. “There she is, Clancy!”

  I heard my name but didn’t know what might be required of me other than to do a good Sit and wait to see what happened next. I felt the car surge forward and then heard honking.

  JayB was looking next to us and motioning with his hands. “Alana! Look at me! Come on!” he called. “Would you look? Hey! Alana! Hey! Okay, finally. Wow.”

  Slowly we steered off the road and stopped on the shoulder. JayB and I jumped out. So did the driver of a parked car in front of us: Alana.

  “What’s wrong?” Alana asked, wiping her face.

  “What? What’s wrong?” JayB responded. “What isn’t wrong? Why are you crying?”

  Alana shook her head. JayB approached her. I could smell Odin in the back seat and Rhiannon in the front.

  “Why the tears?” he asked more gently.

  “You just let me go,” she finally choked out. Her wet eyes searched his. “Why didn’t you try to stop me?”

  JayB looked helpless. “I thought you said you wanted everyone to let you make your own decisions.”

  “Not about something like this. I wanted to hear you say, ‘Don’t go.’ Even Maddy knows you’re not supposed to just let someone leave.”

  “I didn’t. I came right after you.”

  She shook her head. “It’s too late now.”

  “How can it be too late? It’s only been eight minutes, and for six of those you wouldn’t pull over.”

  “I was worried it was a carjacking.”

  “In a Ferrari?”

  Alana laughed, then pulled out a tissue and blew her nose.

  “Look, we both know going back to LA won’t be good for you. I get that there’s plenty of reasons to want to live there, but there’s plenty of reasons to want to live anywhere. And I think the most important reason is when there’s a man standing right in front of you who loves you.”

  Alana didn’t say anything.

  “And what I said before, I’m taking back. If California is absolutely the only place you’ll consider, then I’ll move back to California. I’d rather pick someplace else, but I can’t lose you, so if it’s got to be California, that’s where I’ll go.”

  “What about the restaurant?”

  JayB shook his head. “My dad’s a grown-up. Let him hire Rodney back, I don’t care.”

  “No. You care. You want to see it through to the end. You can taste victory.”

  “And you do, too, don’t you? Come on, you know you do.”

  Alana opened her mouth, then shut it.

  “So fine. Let’s get the joint up and running—together—and after that, go someplace else. Take it minute by minute. And the moment you say we’re done with the place, we’re done.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I can’t believe I just told you I love you, and we’re talking about the restaurant!”

  Alana smiled. “Maybe I just want to hear you say it again.”

  JayB put his hands out and gently took hold of Alana’s arms. “I love you. Watching you walk out of my life eight simple minutes ago, I realized that from that moment on, I’d be exactly the same man as my father. I’d always talk about you, always tell people about this one regret, this one amazing woman I let go. And I’d never forget you. You’re the one for me, the only one for me. And, damn it, if you look into your own heart, don’t you feel the same? Aren’t we gumming up the works with all these other considerations? I’m in love with you, and have been in love with you since you almost killed me with a toy gun.”

  Alana gave a small laugh.

  JayB’s return smile was tremulous. “I love your sense of humor. I love how you examine yourself and you grow. You’re good for me because you’ll teach me how to change, and I’m good for you because I’ll never tell you what to do. I’ll never run your life. I’ll never control you.”

  She gave him an odd look. “Aren’t you running my life now, or trying to, anyway?”

  He shook his head. “I’m giving you a choice. Don’t go back to Los Angeles. Please.”

  She cocked her head playfully. “Except you’re forgetting, I sold the house. I don’t have a place to stay.”

  JayB’s grin broadened. “Well, turns out I’ve got a spare room.”

  They stood looking at each other for a moment. And this time, when they came together in a tight hug, their mouths pressing together, I wagged. This time, the love between them was uncomplicated and easy, the way dogs do love.

  Dear Diary:

  My living arrangements seem unsettled. Odin and I are a pack, one that frequently expands to include Phoebe—and, unfortunately, Spartan—but Odin and I are the only dogs who sleep in the house with JayB and Alana. Is this a permanent arrangement? I don’t believe it’s possible, because as Odin and I sleep, Kelsey and Rhiannon prowl. We tolerate it because we know that if we attacked, JayB would be angry. And also, Rhiannon would hurt us.

  Surely I am not living with two cats.

  Odin is my ally in this. He and I often exchange mournful looks when a cat prances past our noses.

  Otherwise, though, Odin is happy. There is no longer any hesitation from JayB and Alana in accepting him: he lives with us and they love him. He will always mourn for Helen, but I can tell he’s adjusted to his new people.

  He is a good friend. I can sense, though, that whatever is wearing him down from inside is getting worse. JayB and Alana seem to know it too, and spend a lot of time stroking Odin and telling him he is a good dog.

  One night, I am conscious of Odin easing out of his dog bed and padding silently out of the room. Curious, I leap to the floor and follow him as he moves slowly down the hallway and through an open doorway to curl up on the floor of a seldom-used bedroom. His breath is coming raggedly. I don’t sense any pain in him, but some sort of change is overtaking him. I go alongside him and lower my nose to his. He opens his eyes and focuses on me, giving his tail a single thump. I ease down on the floor and place my head on his chest. It rises and falls with his labored breathing.

  I am with him, he is aware of me, and he knows that whatever he is facing now, he is not alone.

  Part of the night passes. His breathing slows. Odin is leaving us and I will miss him terribly. He has been a wonderful friend to me, but it is his time. A dog can sense these things. I press against him so he can feel my warmth and my love.

  Suddenly, he jerks. He lifts his head and is alert the way dogs are when a person enters the room. I turn and look in the direction he’s staring and see only an empty doorway. There’s nobody there, but Odin is wagging his tail. Then he does something I saw him do a long time ago. He crawls forward on his belly, carefully moving across the floor. I get the real sense that he knows he is being a very good dog. When he reaches the doorway, he flops onto his side, stretched out for a tummy rub. His tail flaps vigorously and I feel the love pouring off him. It is the love of a good dog for their person. I still see no one beside him, but I think I understand what he’s doing.

  And then, with a final wag, Odin’s tail stops moving. He sighs contentedly, and that is his last breath.

  I regard him in the stillness of the gloom. He is bathed in stark moonlight filtering in through a single window. His form is still stretched out, as if expecting hands to stroke his tummy.

  I’m sitting, being a good dog, watching over him. I am remembering all the walks we took together, all the times we lifted our legs in the same spot. I will never forget him.

  Odin was a good dog.

  I know what to do now. Out the window, I see the moon high in the sky, and it is toward the moon that I lift my head and give voice to a long, mournful howl.

  When I hear the people stirring down the hall, I howl again.

  Love,

  Clancy

  Thirty-seven

  Odin’s scent gradually evaporated from the surfaces of our home. His customary spot on the rug was the last to surrender his presence—one day, I noticed it was gone and couldn’t recall the last time I’d encountered it. Outside, I found places where he had lifted his leg, and I saluted these. Eventually, though, a blanket of snow descended on the world, and my nose lost this final connection.

  I missed him most powerfully at our personal dog park, always half expecting to see him lying beneath his favorite tree. Phoebe came with me many days, and Spartan was often brought by Rodney or Maddy, or both, but even when Millie and Tillie joined us, our pack felt incomplete without Odin.

  A new room had been forged out of one of the big decks off the side of the restaurant. It had glass walls that slid open on warm days. It made for a comfortable, dry place, with dog beds provided for naps. One wintry day, JayB and Alana led Phoebe and me through the side door into this new room, and I wagged because DesMoines was waiting for us in there. She carried bacon in her pocket, which she fed us.

  I loved DesMoines.

  “Is Walter back yet?” JayB asked her.

  “No, still at the farmer’s market.” She gave JayB a close look. “So today’s the big day, isn’t it?”

  “The big day?” Alana repeated.

  DesMoines nodded. “The day you tell him your decision. I’ve never seen him so nervous. He’s so sure you’ve picked Colorado, he’s already talking about opening a second restaurant out there. Which”—she held up a hand—“don’t worry, I won’t let him do.” She offered Alana and JayB a wan smile. “You know, if I had a vote, I’d ask you to stay.”

  Alana and JayB glanced at each other. “Well,” Alana started to say.

  I wagged because the door slid open and Rodney came stomping into the room, shedding snow from his boots. I did not wag for Spartan, who ignored Phoebe and me and trotted with his typical arrogance to lie in the bed he always claimed as his.

  Rodney looked disturbed. “I really need to talk to you guys,” he announced, “stat. That means—”

  “I know what stat means, Rodney,” JayB interrupted mildly. “What’s up?”

  I was disappointed to see DesMoines turning away. I had thought the day might steer itself back to more bacon. “I’ll leave you alone for some stat talk,” she said dryly.

  “Let’s have a seat, Rodney,” JayB offered. The three of them sat at a table, but without food. I glanced at Phoebe, and we both settled into beds.

  “Hey, I have to say you did a really good job turning this deck into a glassed-in porch,” JayB told Rodney, gesturing around the room.

  “We really needed the extra space,” Alana added.

  Rodney nodded. “Yeah. Well, it was pretty hard to get it done, because you kept coming over to check things, so I felt like I had to keep working.”

  “Huh,” JayB replied. “Interesting. So what’s going on?”

  Rodney leaned forward. “It’s about the snowblower.”

  “Something wrong with it?”

  Rodney shook his head. “No, the issue I’m talking about is me on the snowblower.”

  Alana looked unhappy. “Well, it’s really important to keep the dog runs plowed out, so that the dogs don’t get all wet.”

  “Right. I just wanted you to know,” Rodney replied.

  JayB looked puzzled. “Know what? Are you saying you don’t want to do the snow-thrower any longer?”

  Rodney looked annoyed. “Oh, no, of course not. Are you kidding? It’s the most fun job I’ve ever had. But that’s the point.”

  “I’m sorry—what’s the point, exactly?” JayB asked.

  “That it’s a job. This isn’t my career, okay? This is just something I’m doing until my ship comes in.”

  “So you’ve got more pig iron somewhere?”

  Rodney shook his head. “No, it’s an expression. You’ve never heard this, ‘my ship comes in’? It’s like the one about the Rolling Stones not getting any moss.”

  Alana nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve heard that one.”

  JayB smiled. “Well, Rodney, I don’t see it as your career either. I mean, I wasn’t thinking you’d still be throwing snow in July.”

  Rodney frowned. “I know that. I’m saying, I’m helping out around here as something temporary to make money, but it’s not how I’m going to get rich.”

  “Ah. Okay.”

  “Though,” Alana interjected, “if you’re done with clearing snow for today, that dishwasher still isn’t draining properly. Could you take a look?”

  “Sure.” Rodney stood up, snapped his fingers, and he and Spartan left the room. Phoebe flapped her tail because she wagged at everything.

  “I guess our handyman’s leaving us to become an investment banker,” JayB observed with a sigh.

  “I’m not worried about that, but I feel bad that Walter’s anxious.”

  “Probably good for him.”

  Phoebe and I both wagged when Maddy, carrying a box, climbed the outside steps and kicked at the bottom of the sliding door. JayB opened it and Phoebe and I sniffed at the snow she tracked in. “Snowing guns and roses out there,” she declared and set her box down on the table with a thump. I could smell nothing interesting in it. “These are just some of the dog shampoos I have to memorize,” she advised. “It’s like I have to reconstitute knowledge of everything known.”

  “But you’re getting along better with your instructor?” JayB asked cautiously.

  “Oh, yeah.” Maddy waved a hand. “She says I’m the most unique person in dog-grooming school. She means in history. We stopped fighting once I realized she wasn’t after Rodney. Is he here?”

  “In the kitchen,” Alana replied.

  “Since the dog tub hasn’t arrived yet, I’ve been practicing on him at home, which is why he probably smells like flea juice.”

  “You’ve been dog-grooming Rodney?” JayB asked with a delighted laugh.

  Maddy shrugged. “Spartan won’t go near the tub anymore, so yeah. It wouldn’t make sense for me to do it on myself.” She squinted. “Why, do you think I should cut my hair?”

  “No, not at all,” Alana assured her.

  “I’m going to go talk to him. He asked me to a movie tonight, so it’s open season.” Maddy stood up and waved at the box. “Help yourself.”

  She left. Alana reached into the box and pulled something out. “Clancy? Do you want to smell like mango?” she asked me. “Or”—she pulled out something else—“lavender?”

  I loved Alana. I wagged, hearing in her voice that we were soon going to have extra fun.

  Moments later I heard, saw, and smelled Walter as he charged into the big main room of the restaurant, pulling a cart stacked with boxes. “I’m here,” he called loudly.

  Walter’s boxes smelled deliciously fishy, and as we all approached, DesMoines was peering into one of them, probably thinking of feeding the dogs. “Nice tomatoes,” she observed.

  “Okay. Don’t be mad,” Walter warned, “but I got something that wasn’t on your list.”

  “Again? Color me surprised,” DesMoines said with gentle sarcasm.

  “So here’s what happened,” he continued, unabashed. “The fish guy got in a shipment of bluefish, but then the people who ordered it didn’t show up, and he said you can’t freeze it, so he offered me a great deal. So, you know…”

  “Well, he’s right,” DesMoines agreed. “You can’t freeze bluefish. It turns to mush.”

  “Maybe Alana could make it into dog food?” Walter suggested.

  DesMoines gave Walter a pitying look. “Bluefish might be ugly, but you forget I’m from New Orleans. You taste my blackened bluefish, you’re never going to want to eat trout again.”

  Walter grinned. “I knew you could do something with it.”

  “I’ll get to work.” DesMoines took Walter’s cart and headed to the most delicious-smelling room in the place. I was crushed, because Spartan was back there—was she going to give the fish to him?

  JayB gestured with his head. “Come on back to the glassed-in porch. We can talk there.”

  Walter gave a reluctant nod and we all followed JayB. The room still smelled like Phoebe and me, and we both returned to our beds.

  “Man, the market was crazy today,” Walter proclaimed, sitting down across from Alana and JayB. “This storm fouled up deliveries. Good thing I have a standing arrangement with the hothouse—some of the other buyers went empty-handed. The bluefish thing was just pure luck, but I thought I’d take a chance.”

  “It seems like every day is a wild experience for you,” JayB observed.

  Walter nodded. “Yeah, keeps me on my toes.”

  Alana had a small smile on her face. “But you like it, right? You like doing that?”

  “Oh.” Walter thought about this, then nodded. “Yeah, I kind of do. It’s exciting. I’ve made friends, and no matter what I bring back, DesMoines can turn it into something. She’s the most amazing cook in the universe. Hey, I should tell you, I got a text from your mom.”

  JayB cocked his head. “Celeste texted you?”

  Walter nodded. “Yeah. I sent that photo of DesMoines and me in Florida.”

  “What did her text say?” Alana prodded.

  “She said we make an attractive couple.”

  JayB raised his eyebrows. “What did you say to that?”

  Walter frowned. “Well, nothing. I don’t see us as a ‘couple.’”

  “Is that right?” JayB challenged. “But isn’t it true that when her lease expires, DesMoines is moving into your house?”

  “Well, sure,” Walter agreed uncomfortably, “but she’s there every night anyway. It’s ridiculous that she’s paying rent just to have a place to put her shoes. I’ve got lots of closets.”

  “You know what you should do?” JayB replied. “You should show Celeste’s text to DesMoines.”

  Walter looked puzzled.

  “Because,” Alana continued for JayB, “you do make an attractive couple. If you show her what Celeste said, DesMoines will understand that you and your ex-wife have moved on from each other.”