Piper raced down her apartment stairs juggling her car keys, a sandwich, and a wriggling backpack. She patted the backpack. “Almost there. One day we’ll live in a place where I won’t have to hide you.”
The backpack whined back testily.
Before heading out, she popped by the mailboxes in the small lobby and unlocked her cubby. She was riffling through the letters when her cell phone rang. Tucking it under her chin, she answered.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Piper.”
She cringed. “Mom. Hi.”
Piper cursed herself for not checking the caller ID. It wasn’t like she didn’t want to talk to her mother, but their conversations usually ended by her mother forcing Piper to talk to her brother by handing over the phone before she could say no.
“I haven’t heard from you in a while.” Her voice sounded too cheerful, like forced casualness. “Thought I’d give you a call and see what’s new.”
“Why?” Piper blurted. “I mean, I’m good. Thanks for calling.”
Her mom clicked her tongue. “Can’t a mother just call to say hello?”
Not my mother, thought Piper. There was always an ulterior motive, and it usually had to do with her brother. Ever since her mom had moved to Washington to be closer to him six years earlier, she’d been on a mission to push them closer together, like they could be one big happy family again, as though nothing had happened.
“Yeah. I’m good. I’ve been busy. Only two more weeks of practicum left at the veterinary hospital. Then there’s my licensing exam after graduation.”
“That’s good, that’s good.… Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Here we go, Piper thought.
“Have you checked the mail lately?”
“I’m checking it now.” Piper sifted through the pile: junk mail, flyers, final notice, final notice. Their big, bold red letters screamed at her in capitals. Her neck and shoulder muscles tensed, but she couldn’t do anything about them until payday—which would be the worst one ever with one paycheck instead of three.
She tucked the final notices to the back of the pile and saw why her mother had called. The next letter came from Washington. It was from Piper’s brother—however, she couldn’t help but notice the writing on the envelope looked suspiciously like her mother’s.
Her eyes narrowed. “What is this, Mom?”
“Oh, you got it. Good. Well, with your graduation coming up, Ethan thought it would be nice to send you a present.”
Piper waved the flimsy envelope. Something told her it wasn’t a bouquet of flowers. “Mom, this better not be what I think it is.”
“You know, money is one of the most common gifts for a graduation present,” she said. “And Ethan feels so bad about not being able to make it down for your graduation. The check was his idea.”
Unless a roomful of people were watching, Ethan’s generosity with his money rivaled Ebenezer Scrooge’s, so she knew that wasn’t true.
“I don’t want it.” She averted her eyes from the final notices burning her hand like cattle brands.
“But Ethan wants you to have it.” Her mother’s voice filled with hopeful desperation. Like if Piper accepted this one peace offering all would be well.
“Which is exactly why I don’t want it,” Piper argued.
Her mother tutted. “When are you going to put this grudge aside?”
“When I invent a time machine. Or you give me a new brother. Either one.”
“But it was so long ago, Piper. It’s been almost a decade.”
“Nine years, Mom. It’s been nine years since he died.”
“And you don’t think I miss your father too? But Ethan is your brother. He’s family. What little you have left. And he’s trying to make amends.”
Too little too late, Piper thought. “And giving me money is going to fix what happened?”
“Look, Piper. We both know things haven’t been easy for you financially. It didn’t help that I moved up to Washington to be closer to your brother and left you to pay rent on your own.”
“No. It’s not your fault,” Piper said. “Besides, the place is rent-controlled. I’m fine.”
She didn’t blame her for moving. San Francisco was expensive, and Ethan had helped their mom out with money ever since she moved closer to him. It made Piper happy to know she was doing okay, even though she missed her mom. But Piper had lived by herself for six years, since she was twenty. She’d come this far on her own. She wasn’t about to pack it all in now because her brother wanted to buy her love.
“You could have moved with me, you know,” her mom said. Piper could hear in her voice that she missed her too. “You still could. It would be nice having everyone together.”
Not everyone, she thought. Her fist clenched until she realized that she was squishing her sandwich. She was tired of having the same conversation every time they spoke. She got it. Her mom wanted both of her kids to get along. But just because Piper had to love her brother since he was family, that didn’t mean she had to like him.
Ignoring the notices in her hand and the rent that was past due, she took the unopened letter from Ethan and tore it in half.
“What was that noise?” her mom asked.
“My life is in San Francisco,” Piper said. “I’m not moving. I’ll be fine.” Just fine, fine, fine, she thought, her shoulders drawing back a little.
“Well, I worry about you, is all.” Something banged in the background. “Oh, your brother just arrived. Here, I’ll hand you over.” Her mother’s voice grew faint as she passed the phone.
“Mom, I gotta go!” Piper yelled into the phone. “I love you. Bye!”
She ended the call before she could hear his voice. To make herself feel better, she tore the check up into minuscule pieces before throwing it away. When the last fluttering piece had settled to the bottom, she dared a glance at the final notices in her hand. Her mom would say she’d just cut off her nose to spite her face. But she didn’t. She did it to spite Ethan. It was a stubborn pride that she’d inherited from her father.
“How are we going to pay the bills, Colin?” she asked her backpack.
Colin squirmed restlessly in her bag. She tossed her sandwich in the garbage along with the torn-up check—it’s not like she had an appetite left, anyway—and headed to her poppy red VW Bug in the parking lot. Once inside the car, she freed Colin, who gave her an agitated sneeze.
“I know you hate the bag.” She gave him a scratch behind the ears. “But we can’t afford a new place that accepts pets.”
His bushy tan eyebrows rose and she sighed in defeat.
Reaching into her backpack, she drew out Aiden Caldwell’s business card. She hesitated, struggling to come up with another solution. One that was far less tricky.
It was an opportunity laced with potential complications and temptations. But when she considered the alternative, handing out résumés all over town, waiting days, if not weeks, for a call, then the interviews, the training. She’d already be kicked out of her apartment by the time she saw her first paycheck. Or worse, she and Colin would be forced to crawl up to Washington with their tails between their legs.
She grimaced. That wasn’t an option. Unable to think of a better idea, she reached for her phone and texted Aiden before she could chicken out.
Hello, this is Piper, the telegram girl from the rescue center. I’m wondering if you still needed a dog walker.
She hit send. It felt weird to ask for a job this way. Especially after how they’d met the day before. She wondered if he only suggested it because he’d watched her lose two jobs. What if it was a handout? What if he just felt bad for her? She’d rather sleep in the rescue center than face his pity.
Her phone chimed with Aiden’s response.
Absolutely. When would you be free to meet and have a chat?
A chat? She wondered what that meant in Aiden’s world. Was it an interview type chat at his office or a casual coffee thing? Since it was for a dog-walking position, she chose neutral ground.
I’m free all day today or tomorrow afternoon. We can meet at the Presidio with the dogs.
Does two o’clock work for you?
Sure. I’ll meet you in the Fifteenth Avenue gate parking lot.
See you then.
The exchange was professional and businesslike. No words wasted. Then why was Piper’s heart beating so fast? It was nothing more than a job, she told herself. It wasn’t like a date or anything.
She threw the phone in her bag and turned to Colin in the passenger seat. “Happy?”
His head tilted to one side in confusion.
“Sophie will be there.”
At the mention of her name, his tail began to twitch back and forth. He stared out the windshield expectantly, as if saying, You may chauffeur me now.
Bowing, she threw it in drive and did his bidding.