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Over the next week and a half, Lincoln hardly saw Kali—which was good, which was the way it should be.
And then she started training.
She was home in the mornings when Lincoln got a later start to his day. Home in the evenings when he returned from the lot or, if the weather wasn't good, returned from a day researching at the library. And she'd have supper made. And she'd offer him to join them. He could have said no and taken his food to his room, but the one time he had, Theo had spent the next few days sending him curious glances. Once, when Lincoln was about to leave, just after finishing the last bite on his plate, Theo grabbed Lincoln's pant leg and smiled. It was some magical power, that smile. So he sat. He interacted with Theo and chatted with Kali. It wasn't that bad. And when he needed to get away, at least he had his room. He always had his room.
“Lincoln?” Kali stood outside his bedroom door. “Can I come in? Can we talk?”
Come in? She had never come in.
Romper perked up, shifted his head between Kali and Lincoln, then settled it back down. Lincoln gave the dog's head a rub. “Uh, sure.”
The room was sparse. A bed. A bedside table. She stepped in, closed the door behind her, and stood.
Lincoln rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. “What do you want to talk about?” She held a paper in her hand. Hands. Clenched it, almost. It was the last day of her training. Had things not gone well? Was she losing the job? Would she have to stay longer?
“A couple of things.” She gestured to the foot of the bed. He nodded and kept his mouth shut, though he wanted to tell her to get on with it, say whatever she had to say. She sat. Minus the day after Canada Day, it'd been weeks since Kali had been timid. Not that she'd walked around like she owned the place, more like it was her place too, like she knew he wouldn't tell her she'd overstayed her welcome.
“I was planning to talk to you about Theo.” She stopped.
“Theo?”
“Yes, well, I don't know if I explained it before but this training, it was a two-week thing. A trial.”
“A—?”
“But that's all good. I got the job. It's just that the job doesn't start until the second week of August.”
Lincoln's brow furrowed. “Okay?”
“So I need to get what shifts I can back at the ER ... to make sure I have enough for a deposit and first month's rent. So I can get out of your space as soon as possible.”
“You don't have—”
She held up her hand. “I do—it's just with me gone, with them knowing I'm not coming back, I couldn't get all day shifts. I'll have to do some nights in the next few weeks and Mrs. Martin, well ...” she shifted, moving more of her body onto the bed, “would it be all right if I left Theo with you? I wouldn't be starting until seven thirty so you'd just have to get him to bed. Really, it's only about two hours of watching him and staying here through the night. I'd be home in time to wake him up.”
Lincoln furrowed his brow. Was this why she was nervous? Where did he ever go in the night? And he'd read Theo his stories three nights the past week, while Kali studied the training manuals for her new job.
“That's fine.”
“Good. Great.” Her smile rose then fell. She turned her gaze toward Romper. “I took one of my patients on an outing today, to see her niece in a play.” The muscles in Kali's throat convulsed. “At a community centre in Cole Harbour.” She opened the paper in her hand and held it up. “I'm pretty sure it's Romper.”
Lincoln leaned forward. He didn't need to look at Romper to compare. Same scruffy black hair. Same left ear permanently bent, as if the cartilage had been damaged in some fight. Same red bandanna tied around the neck. Same contented smile. “That could be any dog.”
“It could.”
“I've had him for over four months. If someone was looking for him—”
“They are looking for him. They have been. In Cole Harbour. Dartmouth. They didn't think he would have gotten as far as Halifax—two towns and a harbour away.” Kali offered a closed-lips smile. It's been four months and they still have these signs up.”
“Romper's my—” Lincoln looked to the dog, who looked right back at Lincoln.
“Maestro!” Kali patted her lap. Romper's ears perked. He gave a bark. “Come here, Maestro.” Romper padded over to her. Another bark.
Lincoln's throat tightened. Something within him felt like running. “You patted your lap. You said, 'Come here.' Any dog would—”
“You try it. A different name.”
Lincoln sat motionless.
“Try it.”
He cleared his throat and raised his voice an octave. “Daryl.” He patted his lap. Nothing. “Daryl. Come here, Daryl.” Romper looked to Lincoln. Lincoln patted his lap again. “Come here.”
Romper slinked around the bed, then sat in front of Lincoln. Lincoln rubbed the dog's head. Kali said nothing. Lincoln let his hand drop. “I need him.”
“Maestro,” Kali called again. The dog bolted toward her and nuzzled under her outstretched arm.
Lincoln's jaw clenched. He wanted to be alone, yes. He wanted solitude. But those days working long hours out at the lot ... those days without Romper?
He had the main support for the floor—the first floor—up now. Had constructed a rubber filler around the trunk, going out three feet. It would provide insulation in winter, could be removed in summer if he wanted more air flow, and allowed for trunk growth. His dream felt within reach. But without Romper to toss a stick to during his breaks, to walk with through the woods, to sit beside when he needed to think—that wouldn't be solitude. It'd be loneliness.
Kali kept her head down, her gaze on the paper. “I called the number. The family happened to be at the Centre. Their little girl was in the play too.”
Lincoln stared at Kali, his teeth clenched.
“The dog is actually their son's dog. He's thirteen. They got Ro—Maestro for his tenth birthday.” Another soft smile. “You should have seen his face when I told him I thought I knew where his dog was.”
Lincoln's whole body felt squeezed. So what if Romper was their dog? They'd lost him. They'd lost—Lincoln looked at Romper, who came back to him, pushed his muzzle into Lincoln's thigh, cocked his head, and kind of smiled—the most amazing dog he'd ever seen.
“How would they know it's him?”
Kali rubbed a hand across her chin. “He's micro-chipped.” She let the hand fall. “The parents thought for sure he was dead. They asked why you wouldn't have taken him to the Humane Society or a shelter, somewhere where it could have been scanned.”
“How would I know—”
Kali raised a hand. “They won't make a fuss about it. They're just glad he's okay.”
“He didn't have a tag on his collar. If you care about your dog you have a tag on its collar.”
“But with the chip.”
“What about Theo? Theo loves that dog.”
“Lincoln.” Kali shook her head. “It's not your dog. It's certainly not Theo's dog.” She shifted off the bed and stood. “And Theo would be losing the dog when we move out anyway.”
Lincoln stared at the section of wall Kali's head had blocked moments before.
“What right did you have to call? What right did you have to anything?”
Kali shrugged.
If he'd seen the sign would he have called? Or would he have torn it down and gone looking for any others to dispose of? He clenched his teeth. “So what's the plan? I take him to the SPCA or something? See if it's actually their dog?”
“You could.” Kali passed Lincoln the flyer. “But they're fairly eager to have him back. Do you honestly have any doubt it's him?”
Lincoln held the flyer in his hand. Lots of dogs looked similar.
“The boy said the inside of his collar has a pale blotch on it.”
“A blotch?”
“Apparently he thought he'd tie-dye it one day. His mother stopped him in the process.”
Lincoln unclasped the collar and turned it over. He closed his eyes.
“I'm sorry.”
Lincoln inhaled. He raised his head and waved a hand. “Just a dog, right?” His throat tightened. “I can always get another dog.” He put a hand to Romper's head. “It would just suck if he thought I didn't want him.”
“He remembered his name. He'll remember his family.”
Lincoln passed Kali back the flyer. “This is their address?”
She nodded. “Now?”
“Might as well.”