Odin put his head in Alana’s lap.

  “I always saw myself as an entrepreneur,” she said, stroking Odin distractedly. “Not like what Rodney means when he says it—actually, I don’t know what Rodney means. But it just wasn’t wired into me to go to work for some big company somewhere. Maybe it comes from being the baby in the family, the caboose. I had to make up ways to entertain myself. Anyway, so I scraped together my savings and opened a retail shop. It was so cool, JayB. I had anything and everything it occurred to me to carry. Clothing and costumes and cowboy boots and decorative items. It was called Alana’s Closet. I was so happy, but I struggled just to break even. Then I hit on an idea to put crystals on a motorcycle helmet. Every night, I sat there for hours, gluing on these Swarovski crystals, one by one. When I was done, the thing was amazing, so beautiful. And I sold it for three thousand, five hundred dollars. I bought a bottle of champagne that night. I thought, ‘Thirty-five hundred on a single sale!’ That’s a lot more than I usually made in a month. Then my boyfriend pointed out that I’d probably put eighty hours into that project. By the time you costed out the materials—and then, you know, rent and electricity, California taxes—I was making less than minimum wage.…” Alana trailed off wistfully.

  “Starting a successful business is supposed to be almost impossible,” JayB speculated. “I’ve never done it.”

  Alana nodded. “That’s when it occurred to me: people always say to do the thing you love, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to get rich or even make enough to survive.”

  “What did you like most about it?”

  “Well, I guess it was the creative nature of running a business, you know? I mean, every day it was something different. One day, the toilet backed up, and when I found out how much it would cost to hire a plumber—this is after the landlord told me it would be a month before he’d have time to fix it—I knew I’d have to figure out how to handle it myself. And there was something so not-romantic about running a snake down through a toilet into the bowels of the planet. But in the end, I was exhilarated. I ran into a problem, and I took care of it. And then I sold a vintage leather jacket for a two-hundred-dollar profit that same day. Most nights I went home with a smile on my face. Not at all like what I’m doing now—answering emails all day long. Tracking invoices. Filing. Every day the same. I mean, I had to have a job, and owning my own business meant I learned how to handle bookkeeping, bills, all of that. So I took that skill out into the job market, and that’s how I wound up where I am.”

  Alana looked sadly at the papers in her hand. “My dad loved my mom so much. They were childhood sweethearts. In fact, they were always kind of fuzzy about how long they’d known each other. They’d never had another person in their lives. His death was a shock. He just had a stroke one day and that was that. He treasured me, though. Treasured me, treasured my mom. I remember, growing up, it seemed like such a happy home. I don’t remember my dad ever once talking about who was paying for what. They were married. It wasn’t like now—Guy and I track every penny on a spreadsheet, I’m good at that sort of thing—and settle up at the end of the month. We’re completely independent of each other, even though we live together. If he buys an expensive meal, it’s up to me to catch up with something else so that he isn’t, as he puts it, ‘out of pocket.’”

  She gave JayB a look as if challenging him to comment.

  He said nothing for a moment. “I get what it’s like to feel a little trapped by circumstances. I was stuck in my old job, wondering how I was going to get out of it, and then the solution walked up and punched me in the nose.”

  Alana laughed. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to be free to do whatever you want.”

  “Try,” JayB invited.

  “Sorry?”

  “Put yourself in my position. Imagine you can do what you want, live where you want. What would you do?”

  Dear Diary:

  If I eat the cat’s food, she will be forced to leave here and go find a home where there are no dogs.

  I cannot leap onto the counter the way Kelsey does. She launches herself with no effort. I guess I could, too, if I were that small and had such a surly attitude.

  But dogs are much smarter than cats. While Kelsey makes her leap in a single bound, I’m intelligent enough to realize that if I could put something between me and the counter, such as a chair, I would be able to use a two-stage assault to achieve my goal. Kelsey could never come up with a plan like this. She’s too busy licking herself in her obsessive-repulsive way.

  There’s a chair in the kitchen that’s often close to that counter. JayB sits in it to talk on the phone, or to click something, or to rustle through some papers. The chair doesn’t appear to be close enough for me to make the jump from it to the counter, but I won’t know for sure until I try.

  As I put my front paws on it, something unexpected happens. The chair moves, rolling away from me so that I have to walk with my back legs to keep up. Finally, it bumps into a wall and stops.

  Now that the chair is no longer scooting away from me, I can climb up on it, but I’m all the way across the room. I drop my front paws and look around in confusion.

  I’ve managed to move the chair.

  It seems there might be something I could do with this newfound discovery, but I can’t figure out what that might be.

  Love,

  Clancy

  Ten

  JayB and Alana went silent for long enough that Odin drowsily opened his eyes, sensing something.

  “Maybe, if you had the freedom, you’d open another store?” JayB suggested.

  Alana frowned. “The point is, I don’t have freedom. I’m on leave of absence, but my job’s waiting for me when I get back.”

  “All right.”

  “I hate conversations like this. Let’s talk about something else.”

  “Sure. So … what was your mom doing living in Kansas City?”

  “Oh, yeah—Mom’s sister, Aunt Ellen, got really sick. So my mom came out to take care of her. And then, when Ellen died, Mom inherited this place”—Alana looked around—“and then, I don’t know, she decided she liked it out here.”

  “Everyone says it’s a great place to live, but not exactly the most exciting place to visit.”

  Alana smiled. “We came out one time, Guy and I. He made fun of the whole trip. It started at the airport. He said the airport was stupid, too far away. Though, in LA, a lot of people live hours from LAX. We’re lucky, we’re just up the road, takes us less than thirty minutes. Anyway, he said Kansas City was a hick town. Made fun of the food, the clothing, the culture, and especially the people. To Guy, the Midwest has absolutely nothing going for it, so if you live here, you must be a moron. My mom took about all she could stand and then they had a huge blowout. And of course, there I am in the middle, trying to make peace.” Alana shook her head. “My mother could make an argument into a take-no-prisoners kind of thing. She called Guy self-centered and pig-headed. Guy doesn’t like it when people argue with him—who does?—so he pretty much made me choose between my mom and him. They both made me choose. I mean, Guy’s the love of my life. What was I supposed to do?”

  Alana’s voice had gone soft and low. Odin stirred, looking up at her.

  “So what happened then was, we stopped talking to each other,” Alana finished. “I can’t believe how long I let that fight come between me and my mom.”

  Suddenly, she was sobbing, crying those racking, tearful, gasping sobs people do now and again. She stood and so did JayB. Odin, his tail wagging uncertainly, went into a Sit. JayB stepped over to Alana and folded her into his arms.

  I wasn’t sure what to do. I could feel the distress and other strong, sad emotions around this embrace, but there didn’t seem to be a role for a dog.

  Suddenly, Alana straightened and went a little rigid. “Oh,” she exclaimed. She literally put her palms on JayB’s chest and pushed him back. “Oh, wait. Sorry.”

  “No, there’s nothing to be sorry about.”

  She shook her head wildly. “This was—oh God. I don’t know what I was thinking. Hey, I think I need some time. Could you just go? I need to be alone right now.”

  “Alana…” JayB protested mildly.

  “Please,” Alana urged.

  I followed JayB up the stairs and to the front door. Odin went with us, confused. My last sight of him was his lost expression as JayB escorted me outside.

  JayB put my leash on my collar and shrugged. “Something just happened, Clancy,” he told me. “But I’m not sure what.”

  Early the next day, JayB walked me outside on the leash, and we were doing a good job of marking the area along the driveway when a car pulled in. I recognized it as the one that had belonged to Odin’s person, Helen. The woman who stepped out of it, however, was Alana. Odin followed her and trotted over to me for a morning sniff.

  “Hey,” she greeted. “I brought a peace offering—coffee cake from Dolce’s. Do you like coffee cake?”

  JayB considered this. “I don’t think I’d want to be associated with anyone who doesn’t like coffee cake.”

  Alana laughed.

  “You drove here from your house?” JayB asked. “I thought you were this big runner.”

  Alana laughed again. “Went shopping. I can’t believe how cheap everything is here. I mean, eggs, coffee, even gasoline. I felt like I was rich.”

  “Why do you say the coffee cake is a peace offering? Are we at war?”

  Alana shrugged, looking sheepish. “Well, I sort of overreacted. I mean, it wasn’t your fault. You were just being nice, and then I don’t know, I started feeling guilty or something. Like … I mean, I know you weren’t trying to do anything, JayB. I know that you were just being compassionate, but in that moment, I was not in a good place. I took it the wrong way.”

  “No, of course. I know that you have a guy. I mean, Guy…”

  Alana nodded wearily. “I do wish he had a different first name.”

  “Anyway, I respect that. I can’t speak for Rodney, however.”

  Alana rolled her eyes.

  JayB grinned. “So maybe we should try it again.”

  Alana frowned. “Try what again? Hugging?”

  “Yeah, why not?”

  “Okay,” Alana agreed slowly. She reached into the car, pulled out a square, sweetly fragrant box, and set it on the roof. Then she shut the door and walked up to JayB, suddenly seeming shy. Each held out their arms and they embraced. I glanced at Odin, wondering if this was something we should get involved in. Dogs always help when there’s an affectionate situation, as opposed to cats, who simply make people feel bad about themselves.

  I contemplated the way JayB’s scent changed as he held Alana.

  As soon as they began hugging, I heard the full-throated roar of a big machine. I glanced up and saw what I had come to recognize as one of Walter’s cars. It sped toward us, making a lot of racket, and the tires squealed slightly as it swung into the driveway and came to a rocking halt.

  JayB and Alana stopped hugging.

  Walter struggled out of the front seat, grinning. “Good morning.”

  “You know, Dad,” JayB observed, “a lot of people would call before they just show up at a house.”

  Walter laughed, “Are you kidding? In this car, it’s like a five-minute drive from my place to yours. It takes longer to dial the phone. Good morning, beautiful,” Walter hailed Alana. “You’re particularly lovely this morning.”

  “Thank you, Walter,” Alana replied, looking amused.

  Walter slapped his hands together. “We need to drink some champagne tonight. I’ve got something big to celebrate.”

  JayB looked wary. “Oh?”

  “Yeah. Our man Rodney was absolutely right about the restaurant. It’s the proverbial diamond in the rough. Close to the river. It’s in operation right now, but the owner is tired of running it and looking to get out from underneath.”

  “The restaurant,” JayB repeated woodenly. “What do you and Rodney know about restaurants?”

  “It’s like minting money.”

  JayB and Alana exchanged glances. “It’s more like minting money and then throwing it out the window,” he corrected. “Do you know how complicated it is to run a restaurant?”

  Walter grinned. “What I know is you can pay like six cents for some pasta and sell it for eight bucks. That’s the kind of margin an investor like me is looking for.”

  “Yeah, sure,” JayB allowed. “That may be true, but you’ve got health codes and you have all sorts of personnel issues. It’s a really bad idea, Dad.”

  Walter looked annoyed. “Yeah, right, I get it. Human resources.” He grinned at Alana. “We had HR. I think their one contribution was to make a sign that said to remove food from the refrigerator on Fridays.” He turned back to JayB. “Son, this is a business. Something, I’ll remind you, I know a thing or two about.”

  “A thing, maybe. I’m not sure about two.”

  Alana laughed, but Walter didn’t.

  “Seriously, Dad, there must be some reason the owner is willing to walk away, and it can’t be because he’s making too much money.”

  “There’s a top-secret plan to it, yes,” Walter acknowledged, “something I can’t talk about yet, but even still, it’s a good deal.” He pulled out his phone. “I will use my phone, thank you very much, to call Rodney to come over and explain the deal to you so you’ll understand.”

  JayB shook his head. “Oh, please, don’t.”

  “Maybe I should go,” Alana offered. “I don’t think I should hear the secret.”

  JayB glanced at her. “No, we’re going to have coffee cake. You promised.”

  “Coffee cake!” Walter agreed with a grin. He turned away to talk into his phone.

  JayB looked challengingly at Alana. “The peace offering is no good if you leave.”

  Before long, we were all in the house, and I was just settling down underneath the table when the door opened and Rodney came in, followed by his ridiculous dog. Odin had his head between his paws and didn’t look up, but I felt obligated to go and greet the newcomers.

  JayB looked exasperated. “Sure, just walk right in.”

  Rodney grinned. “Oh, come on, we’re neighbors.” He sat down and reached for a piece of coffee cake. “This is so great,” he enthused, his voice muffled by food. He smiled at Alana. “Let me guess—Dolce’s, right? Man, I need to give you that city tour, or you’re going to find every place on your own.”

  “That would be okay by me,” Alana replied lightly.

  Rodney guffawed. He reached out and put his hand on Alana’s arm and she snatched it off the table. “Well,” he observed magnanimously, “it’s a good thing I live close by.”

  “Yeah, it’s great,” JayB stated flatly.

  “So, this restaurant, you’re not going to believe the opportunity,” Rodney told JayB.

  “That sounds accurate,” JayB observed.

  “Okay. Sarcasm. Ha,” Rodney replied. He turned to Alana, “JayB’s never had what you might call the vision thing, you know? He was more like the follower. Which was okay by me, because I was the leader. Every general has an army. Every rancher has a cow.”

  “Every bank has a robber,” JayB suggested.

  Alana laughed.

  Rodney rolled his eyes. “You see? He’ll probably find a hundred things wrong with this deal, but it doesn’t matter, because there’s one right thing.”

  “And what’s that?” Alana asked.

  Rodney was holding a finger up in the air and now he stared at it as if there was beef on the fingernail. “The one thing is: it’s brilliant.”

  “Oh,” JayB admired, “as long as the reason’s that good.…”

  Rodney and Walter exchanged a glance. “No, I mean there’s something about this deal that even the current owner doesn’t know. Something genius. Like you know how people are always going to garage sales and buying an old dresser and in the bottom drawer there’s a Picasso? This is like that. So, while everyone’s distracted, thinking, ‘Oh, Rodney and Walter are running this wonderful restaurant, let’s go eat there,’ they won’t even realize what’s about to happen.”

  “Tell you what,” Walter enthused, springing to his feet, “I hate wasting time. Rather than sit here and talk hypotheticals, let’s just go. To the restaurant. We’ll show you what we’re talking about.”

  Dear Diary:

  People and dogs form packs in a similar fashion, creating ever-changing groups out of whoever happens to be there. For a dog, this can mean other dogs and even humans but not Kelsey.

  Over time, though, some packs become more or less permanent. Odin and I see each other nearly every day now, so he and I and Phoebe are a pack, and I guess I would add Millie and Tillie, though probably not Spartan—to be in a pack, a dog has to want to belong.

  I think Alana and JayB and Rodney and Walter and Maddy are in the process of forming a pack, but as is often true with dogs, they’re having trouble deciding how each of them relates to the other. I think part of the problem is that none of them pees outdoors. It can be very difficult getting to know someone under those circumstances.

  Love,

  Clancy

  Eleven

  Before long, we were taking a car ride—a car ride made less enjoyable by the fact that Spartan was in the vehicle with us, in the back with Odin. I was in the middle seat, and JayB and Alana were sitting up front. Rodney had gone with Walter. At a corner, we heard a loud squeal of tires and Walter’s car sped away from us.