“What?”
“How big is the dog?”
“About fifteen pounds. She’s really friendly. I call her Sheila. That’s Australian for girl.” Suddenly he looked more like he was eight than eighteen.
Nicole knew there were very few choices. She could insist he take Sheila to an animal shelter and be the big bad, or she could accept that her life had taken a different kind of turn and become a dog owner. There really wasn’t much of a choice.
“Go get her,” she said with a sigh. “Bring her back, but know that she’s going to have to stay in the garage until I can get to a vet tomorrow and get her checked out and defleaed and whatever else she needs. Also, being a pet owner means being responsible. You’ll have to feed her and exercise her and clean up the yard. If I have to step in dog poop when I go outside, I’m going to be very, very annoyed. Is that clear?”
Raoul grabbed her and hugged her until he’d squeezed out all her air. Then he released her and grinned.
“You’re the best!”
“That’s me. Saint Nicole.”
“I’ll take care of everything. You won’t even know she’s here.”
If only that were true. “Just go get her.”
“I will.”
“Wait.” She dug in her purse and pulled out a couple of twenties. “Stop by the pet store. Get some dog food, a bed, a leash and a collar.”
He grinned. “Thanks.”
She waved him away. “Oh, wait. Put the chicken back.”
“SHEILA IS A HEALTHY DOG,” Dr. Walters, the vet in the animal clinic, said. “She’s about two years old.”
The vet was young, probably fresh out of veterinary school, which was fine with Nicole. She’d been grateful to get an appointment first thing in the morning.
Sheila was a scruffy pile of fur with big eyes and a friendly personality. Nicole wouldn’t have thought about getting a dog, but now that she had one, even if it technically belonged to Raoul, she was getting used to the idea.
“She seems housebroken,” she said. “She didn’t chew on anything and she likes to play. She also eats a lot.”
“Typical for a stray,” the doctor told her. “You’ll have to measure her food or she’ll put on weight.”
“More weight,” Nicole muttered. Sheila might be cute, but she was also chubby.
The dog seemed to know they were talking about her. Her tail started wagging and she leaned in and swiped Nicole with her tongue.
“She’s not fat,” Dr. Walters said, patting the dog who sat on the examination table. “She’s pregnant.” He scratched the dog’s back. “I would say she’s due in three or four weeks.”
He kept talking. Nicole could see his lips moving, but she couldn’t hear the words.
Sheila was pregnant? Even the damn dog got to have a family of her own? Claire, then Jesse, and now the
Nicole sucked in a sob.
“Ms. Keyes? Nicole? Are you all right?”
Nicole started to say she was fine, then realized she couldn’t speak because she was crying. Crying because a stupid stray dog got knocked up?
“I’m okay,” she managed. “Ignore me.”
Dr. Walters looked uncomfortable as he handed her a box of tissues. She took a couple and wiped her eyes, then tried to smile.
“It’s fine,” she repeated. “I’m having a meltdown that has nothing to do with you or Sheila. Go on. You were saying she’s due in a few weeks.”
“Ah, that’s right. You’ll want to be careful about what she eats. She’s probably behind with her shots, but we’ll wait until after the puppies are born.”
“Great. Perfect. She can have a bath, though, right?” Because as cute as Sheila was, she smelled.
“Sure. We can do that here. You can leave her and pick her up later.”
He seemed eager for Nicole to leave. Not that she could blame him. She gave him a watery smile, promised to read the material he sent home on doggie deliveries and left her cell number with the receptionist.
She drove to Wyatt’s house and knocked on the front door. When Claire answered, Nicole started to cry again.
“What’s wrong?” her sister asked, pulling her inside. “What happened?”
“N-nothing,” Nicole said as she sank onto the sofa. “It’s so stupid. Sheila is pregnant.”
Claire sat next to her and rubbed her arm. “Who’s Sheila?”
“A dog. I took her to the vet and she’s pregnant.” More tears fell. “Everyone’s pregnant but me. I want a family. I’ve always wanted a family. Not with Drew, but with someone good. But that’s not going to happen and now the stupid dog is pregnant. Plus the vet was really young and I think I made him uncomfortable by crying in his office.”
“He’ll get over it. When did you get a dog?”
“Yesterday. I cried when he told me about Sheila.”
“Which will make him understand women are complex creatures. It’s a lesson he has to learn eventually. Better early than late.”
Nicole laughed and cried, which wasn’t easy. Then she hiccupped.
“How did everything get so messed up?” she asked, knowing she sounded pitiful.
“It’s not messed up.”
“It’s not the way I wanted it to be. Some of that is good. I’m glad you’re here and with Wyatt, but what about what happened with Jesse? It’s a disaster.”
“So make it better.”
Nicole shook her head. “She hasn’t even apologized.”
“Do you need to hear the words?”
“Wouldn’t you?”
Claire sighed. “Probably.”
“I’m upset.”
“Don’t be. You’ll meet someone. Someone great.”
Nicole realized that she’d yet to share her happy, albeit fake, good news.
“I’m dating someone,” she said. “Someone really great. You don’t have to feel sorry for me.”
“I don’t feel sorry for you.” Claire looked confused. “You’re dating?”
“It’s possible. Men find me attractive.”
“I know they do. I didn’t know you were ready to start looking for someone. I think it’s great.”
Nicole still felt teary and upset and now defensive. “He’s amazing. Handsome and funny, with a killer body. He teaches high school football and he used to play professionally. His name is Eric Hawkins. Hawk.”
“You’re dating?” Claire repeated. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“I’ve been busy. I’ve gotten involved with the football team. I went to a couple of games and I bring dessert when they look at game films and Hawk and I have been going out.” Nicole felt a little guilty for not saying anything to Claire before this. “I was going to tell you.”
“When?”
“Soon.”
Ironically, she’d started the relationship with Hawk in an effort to prove to the world she was doing just fine. Hard for the world to know if she didn’t tell it.
“So you like him?” Claire asked.
“Uh-huh.” Nicole was telling the truth. She did like Hawk. He was a good guy. She liked him best in bed, but she wasn’t going to share that.
“I’m really happy for you.”
“You don’t sound happy,” Nicole said.
