Kari woke with a gasp, her pulse spiking, eyes flying open.
Someone is in the house.
She whipped to her side and saw brown eyes in a furry face regarding her. Hugo’s mouth opened, long pink tongue lolling out.
“Shit.” Kari rolled to her back, her hand on her chest as if the pressure could ease the hammering of her heart. She squeezed her eyes closed and tried to take a deep breath, but her body was still convinced that Hugo was some sort of intruder, her fight-or-flight reaction slow to exit the field of battle.
A huff of warm air in her ear and a swipe of wetness on the side of her face made her squeeze her eyes tighter, but it also made her laugh, the tightness in her chest easing. “Thanks, Mr. Dog. I think I’m good here. I take it someone wants his morning routine.”
Hugo, no surprise, had nothing to say to this. Kari levered herself to a sitting position and blinked in the morning sunlight, taking stock.
First night with dog, and all is well. She nodded. Last night, she had retreated into what she knew—drawing. Hugo had seemed to appreciate the attention, even if it wasn’t outright stroking his coat or playing with him. Then the texting and conversation with Rob. Her heart skipped a little at the memory.
So, I miss you.
There was that teenage feeling again. But instead of angsty and anxious, this time it was the bloom of young infatuation, the thrill of knowing your feelings are returned. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, her hands clenching as if she could physically contain the emotion.
Something cold and wet poked her bare hip. She looked down and saw Hugo, looking at her with an expectant gleam in his eyes.
“Sorry. I’m on it.” She got out of bed and pulled out some clothes, padding to the bathroom to pee and run a brush through her pillow-ruffled hair before dressing. The dog followed her, watching with interest as she went through her routine.
“Kind of creepy to watch someone urinate,” she muttered as she walked to the front door, Hugo hard on her heels. “Though I don’t suppose you really have opinions on the subject.” She collected a plastic bag, snapped his leash to his collar, and let them out the door. Hugo seemed bouncier this morning, swinging his head around to look at a robin hopping across Rob’s lawn and to track a squirrel spiraling up a tree a little further down. This time, when he squatted, Kari was prepared. She waited for him to stop kicking before holding her breath and squatting to clean up.
“I guess I have to apologize for judging you watching me pee,” she said as she straightened and tied the bag off. “Though you don’t have to participate in quite the same way I do. Ready for breakfast?”
The dog’s ears pricked a little higher and his tongue disappeared inside his mouth. Kari had noticed this behavior before: a lolling tongue seemed to indicate waiting or contentment, whereas a closed mouth signaled attention. Interesting.
“I think I’m getting this dog thing,” she told Hugo as they went inside. Rob would be proud of her.
The idea made her smile.
“So, how’s the team, Trin?” Rob asked the Austin help desk manager.
Trin, fingering the gauges stretching their earlobes into half-inch voids, ran their top teeth over the hoop that pierced their lower lip. They looked like a combination of walking pin-board and billboard, but also had the respect of the team and knew their stuff. Rob, weary from travel and a bad night of little sleep, braced himself for bad news.
“I don’t think we have a problem here,” Trin said.
“But?”
Trin shrugged. “Almost impossible to tell for sure.” Their thick, dark brows were drawn together, muscled shoulders hunched under a tight superhero tee shirt. Rob wasn’t quite sure which superhero the shirt represented—the design was a little abstract. He bit back a wry grin, realizing that he would have instantly known which Disney Princess was on a piece of media. Comic books, not so much.
“We’re not expected to do the impossible,” Rob said. “If our employees are haunting the nastier corners of the internet in their off hours and that’s it, there’s nothing we can or even should do about that. But if the audits of our internal network traffic are more or less clean, then I feel we’ve done what we could.
“I hate feeling like Big Brother,” Trin said, tugging at a silver barbell that ran through their ear in two places. Rob repressed a flinch. He knew the piercing couldn’t possibly hurt now—he’d known Trin for three years and they had already had most of the array of metalwork when they met, barbell included. But Rob marveled at Trin’s capacity to endure pain.
“Yeah, well. I do too. You know my philosophy,” Rob responded. “But we have to take this seriously.”
Trin nodded and ran a hand over their hair, an array of tiny twists springing out from their dark scalp. “Yeah. Didn’t mean to say you enjoyed it.”
“I know. You’re doing a great job here, Trin. Sandra thinks the world of you. She asked me specifically to come out here as a show of support for you.”
“Really?” Trin’s dark eyes were uncertain. “Because it kind of feels like…a vote of no confidence.”
“I’m sorry it feels that way.” Rob’s eyelids felt heavy. His limbs felt heavy. Everything felt heavy. Exhaustion flowed like lead through his veins. “I know this might feel like corporate coming down on everyone because of something one person did. But what we’re trying to do is make sure we have good people focused on making good games in a good environment.” Great. Could he say the word “good” one more time, just to hammer home how out of his depth he felt about everything? “I don’t care about Nerf gun wars in the cubicles or gif battles in Slack or non-pornographic surfing when the workload is light. I do care when we’ve got toxic people. I care even more when those toxic people are using our resources to act on their toxicity, especially against our people. Because it’s not about Anna being powerful or important. It’s because she’s one of our own.”
Trin nodded, but the tense lines around their eyes remained. “What about the rest of the staff?”
Rob nodded. “We’re moving to address that. The entire staff of the company is going to get the same training. We’re focusing here first because it’s where the problem started.”
“Okay. You might want to tell our people that. They’re feeling singled out.”
“I will.” The lead in Rob’s veins redoubled. This was above his pay grade. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be back home with Kari. He slapped his hands on his thighs, faking an energy he didn’t feel. “So. Let’s get to the training.”
Kari pulled up to her house, a smile already tugging at the corners of her lips. “Hugo, we’re going to have a great evening,” she murmured as she turned off the car. Then she saw Sam sitting on her front step, the dog next to her. A hundred scenarios ran through her mind, freezing her ability to think.
Her motions stiff, she got out of the car and walked toward Sam. “Have you been here long?”
Sam shook her head. She stroked Hugo from the top of his head down his back. “No. I came at noon, walked him, and went to class. But I got a weird vibe from him at lunch, so I came back about an hour ago. And he’s been a busy guy.”
“How?” Kari’s brain spun. Had he gotten into something toxic for dogs? She cringed internally, remembering her ignorant comment about bones. Chocolate was on Rob’s list as something dogs shouldn’t eat. Was there something else? Had she left something out that he’d gotten into? “Is he okay?”
Sam thumped Hugo, who was panting, his ears at half-mast. “I think he’s fine. Your dining room…kind of isn’t.”
Kari blinked, her stomach swooping. “How?”
Sam stood, dusting the seat of her shorts with a hand. Hugo tracked her movements, mouth closed and eyes alert, seemingly oblivious to Kari’s presence. Sam opened the door and Kari and Hugo followed her inside, through the living room into the dining room. Sam pointed, but Kari already saw. Her eyes widened, hand coming up to cover her mouth. A section of baseboard and part of the wall were destroyed, the edges a ragged mess.
Kari sank to her knees, taking the dog’s face in her hands and looking at him. “Is he okay?”
“Well, not if he did this,” Sam said, her tone dry. “He’s young and his routine’s been interrupted too much and he’s stressed out.”
“No, I mean is he full of wood splinters?” Kari scanned the dog’s body in helpless worry. He looked the same as he always did. Maybe a little sheepish. But how soon might he have symptoms of something?
“I cleaned up. He may have ingested a few bits of wood, but probably not enough to make him sick. It was a mess in here.” Sam looked at the damage. “Well, a bigger mess.”
Kari rose to her feet and all but ran into the kitchen. She grabbed Rob’s list off the counter, digging in her purse with her free hand. Oh, god. Rob wasn’t going to be proud of her at all. She’d screwed everything up.
“What are you doing?” Sam asked.
“I need to call the vet. I’m not taking any chances.” Good grief. Why had he entrusted the dog to her? She didn’t have a clue what she was doing. Dialing the number with shaking fingers, she explained what had happened to the woman who answered the phone.
“Bring him in,” the woman said, her voice calm and soothing. “But this isn’t unusual.”
“It isn’t?” Kari’s voice sounded hysterical to her own ears.
“No. We see this kind of thing a lot. But the doctor should make sure he doesn’t have something wrong with his mouth and check for intestinal blockage.”
Kari’s knees wobbled. “Okay. Thanks. I’ll be right there.” She hung up and shoved the phone back in her bag. “I’ve got to get him to the vet.”
“I’ll come with you.” Sam patted her thigh and the dog followed her to the front door, Kari hard on their heels. Sam attached Hugo’s leash, then looked at Kari and held her hand out. “Give me your keys.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re a mess. And we won’t fit comfortably with the dog in the cab of my truck, so I’m driving your car.”
“Oh.” Normally, Kari would argue. But she felt like her muscles were simultaneously vibrating with tension and turning to water from exhaustion and stress. She handed the keys off to her niece and took Hugo’s leash in return.
“It’ll be okay,” Sam said.
“Let’s just get him checked out,” Kari said.
“Well, that’s done.” Rob rubbed his temples, his head throbbing. In truth, the session had gone better with the Austin crew than the L.A. staff. He didn’t sense anything more negative than resigned tolerance of a boring day of training from this group.
“At least they’ll be glad to get back to network connectivity issues and scrubbing malware tomorrow,” Trin said, looking around the empty training room.
“Small mercies.” Rob flinched, his phone buzzing in his back pocket. He tugged it out and looked at the screen, a throb in his head making him wince. It took him a moment to comprehend the message. “Oh, no.”
“Something wrong?” Trin asked.
“My daughter’s dog—well, my dog now, I guess—he’s been staying at my…” He shied away from using the term girlfriend. It sounded as absurd to apply to a forty-two year old woman as boyfriend sounded applied to his forty-eight year old self. “Next-door neighbor’s house. Apparently, he chewed up her baseboards. They just got back from the vet.”
“Sucks.” Trin said. “Is the dog okay?”
“The dog is apparently fine.” Kari had led with, Hugo’s okay in her text.
“That’s a relief, right?” Trin asked.
“Yeah.” Rob’s jaw was stiff. Dammit. He should have known something like this would happen. Why hadn’t he even thought to bring Hugo’s crate over? Mia told him that the dog was going through a stressed period. He’d seen the evidence with his own eyes. Hell, he’d cleaned up the toy Hugo destroyed with his own hands, a blizzard of white stuffing and scraps of cloth.
And, of course Hugo hadn’t destroyed one of his own toys this time. No, he had to damage Kari’s home. The home that was simultaneously her greatest achievement and greatest source of stress already. Kari must be going through hell right now. A sickening wave of guilt rolled through him.
“Hang on, Trin. I should give her a call.” Rob tapped Kari’s contact information and moved to a corner of the training room. Trin mouthed I’ll be in my office and left.
Kari answered on the first ring. “You didn’t have to call,” she said.
“Of course I did.”
“Aren’t you doing training?”
“It just finished. How are you?”
“Hugo’s fine.” Her voice sounded exhausted.
“No, how are you?” The waves of guilt were rolling breakers now. Give him a long board and he could have surfed them.
“I’m okay. We—Sam and I—got him checked out. The vet says nothing wrong with his mouth, no mass of wood in his abdomen.”
“Sam’s with you. Good.” Somehow, knowing her niece was there supporting her made him feel even more guilty. He should have been the one to pick up the pieces. He made the mess, after all. Or his dog did.
“Yeah. She’s been great.”
“How are you holding up?”
“I’ll survive,” she said.
“I’ll be home by noon tomorrow if nothing goes wrong. Well, if nothing else goes wrong.”
“It’s okay. We’re doing fine. Hugo seems calm now. I’m going to take tomorrow off to be with him. To make sure.”
“Oh—” He was about to say “You don’t have to do that,” but he was sickeningly aware that she probably did feel she had to, for the sake of her house and her sanity. “Send me a photo of the damage. I’ll fix it.” That was at least something he could do.
“Why do you want a picture? You’ll see it soon enough.”
“I don’t know. To prepare myself, I guess? If it was bad enough for you to take Hugo to the vet, it must be a lot of damage.” He made a mental note to find out how much the visit had cost and pay her back for that too. “I’m sorry he’s been such a problem.”
“He hasn’t been a problem. Well, except for this.”
“That’s a pretty big ‘except.’”
“Please don’t blow this up even bigger than it is. I’m going to go now. Sam and I are going to order a pizza and binge some Netflix.”
“Send me that photo.”
“Okay.” And she was gone, leaving Rob stewing in guilt, frustration, and helplessness.
“…And so that’s how it all happened.” Sam tipped the dregs of her beer down her throat. The pizza was gone. Hugo had watched every bite as it traveled from plate to mouth. Sam had finally told Kari the whole story of how she met Graham and, if Kari was any judge, fallen deeply in love. Sam was a private person and she wasn’t explicitly forthcoming to that degree, but it was pretty clear to Kari that her loner niece and Graham were serious about each other.
Plus, Rob had pronounced the younger man “smitten” with Sam, and Kari couldn’t disagree with that assessment based on what she’d seen.
Kari twisted the neck of her own beer bottle between her fingers, wondering what to say next. Changing the subject might make Sam think she didn’t care. Inquiring further into the new relationship might be taken as invasive.
“I’m moving in with him,” Sam blurted.
Kari blinked. “You…you mean, like, living with him?”
Sam nodded, her brown ponytail swinging, dark blue eyes flicking up to meet Kari’s gaze, then scudding away. “We get along really well. It seems silly for me to go home in the evening when I just want to be with him and he wants to be with me. He’s got a nice little house. Something like this, actually.” She waved at the living room. “And a great dog.” She beaned Hugo on the head with a gentle finger. “Though she, like this dude, has had her moments.”
“And you’re in love with him.” Kari couldn’t believe how steady her voice was. This was momentous. Her stoic Sam had not only fallen in love, but she was talking about it.
Sam swallowed hard. “Yeah. I am.” Her voice was so low it was almost a whisper, almost like she couldn’t quite take in the enormity of what she was saying, what she was feeling.
“Well, for what it’s worth, Rob said that Graham was ‘smitten.’”
Sam laughed and her shoulders retreated from where they had been lifting toward her ears. “Do guys have a sense about that sort of thing?”
“He said he had expertise in such things having had young men brought home for his inspection by his daughter.”
“That’s right. He’s got a kid.”
“Hardly a kid. She’s out on her own and moved to New York. That’s why we have Mr. Dog.” Kari waved at Hugo, who had been looking from Kari to Sam and back again as the conversation progressed, as if it was a tennis match.
Then the impact of the we she had used hit her.
Sam didn’t miss it either. “And by we, you don’t mean you and me. You mean you and Rob.”
Kari took a sip of beer. It had gotten warm in her hands and the liquid tasted faintly disgusting at that temperature. She tugged a magazine forward on the coffee table and set the bottle on it. “Yeah. I guess I do.”
Sam looked from the dog to Kari. “Do you think you’ll…take it further?”
“Further how?” Heat prickled the back of her neck, even though she knew Sam wasn’t talking about sex.
Sam waved at the living room again. “You think he’ll move in with you? Or you with him?”
The idea of Rob in her house all the time felt funny. This house was hers. That was the whole point. She loved having him over, but…always? They hadn’t even successfully shared a bed overnight without him spending the majority of it staring at the ceiling.
By the same token, the idea of moving into his house seemed wrong. She’d finally accomplished something she’d wanted all her life: a home of her own. To give that up now? No.
“I don’t know, Sammie. I really don’t know.”