Professor Reese laughed.
I eased Baxter’s big paws off my shoulders. He dropped back to the ground. All three of us smiled the whole way back around to the front of the house, and then the only person not smiling was TJ.
He scowled the whole way to school, but I didn’t care—we had a deal, so he had to go on the dog walk later.
When I got to the school playground, I ran to find Megan. I knew she’d be excited to hear about Baxter because when we grow up, we’re going to open a vet/beauty parlor. I’ll take care of the dogs and give them a bath, while she does the dog owners’ hair at the same time. As Dad said when I told him our plan, it really will be a full-service salon.
I told her all about how cute Baxter was. “And I get to take him on a walk this afternoon!”
“Aww! I wish my house was closer to your house—you could walk him over so I could meet him,” she said.
I could tell Megan was jealous that there wasn’t a Baxter living next door to her, which was nice for a change as usually I am the one being jealous. Megan gets to do a million lessons like piano and ballet and horseback riding. All I get to do in the afternoons is hang out with TJ (and you certainly don’t need lessons for that).
“Ask your mom when you can come over!” I said. Then we ran over to the playground bars, where Aisha and Jasmine were waiting.
“Baxter is soooo cute!” I told them as we swung around backward on the bars.
Aisha hopped down from the bar and grabbed her notebook and pencil out of her backpack. “What does he look like?”
I described his silvery-gray fur and his long, long nose and crazy eyebrows, and she started trying to sketch Baxter. “Like this?” she asked.
“Oh! I forgot!” Jasmine hopped down, too. She unzipped her backpack and pulled out a plastic bag. “I tried a new recipe with my mom yesterday—cranberry-orange scones.”
So we all munched on scones and watched Aisha try to match her dog sketch with my description, with me saying, “I think his ears are a little longer,” and, “His eyebrows are definitely way crazier!” and her erasing and redrawing the sketch until it almost looked just like him. “He is cute!” she said.
“Totally,” I agreed.
Then Aisha closed the cover of her notebook, and Jasmine crumpled up the empty scone bag, and they both picked up their backpacks and started running toward the classroom.
“Where are you going?” I yelled.
“The bell rang. You didn’t notice?” Megan swung her backpack up onto her shoulder and hurried after them.
Sure enough, the playground monitor was walking our way. I grabbed my backpack and caught up to Megan.
“Do you think your mom will let you come over tomorrow to meet him?” I asked.
“Maybe. I have a piano lesson. We’re practicing for our recital.”
But for once, I wasn’t jealous, because now I had Baxter.
By the time we reached the classroom, our teacher, Mrs. Abernathy-Clarke (who the class calls Mrs. A.), was looking at the clock. But technically, we were sitting down as the tardy bell rang, so it was OK. All I needed to do was quickly finish telling Jasmine (to my left) and Aisha (to my right) about how swishy Baxter’s tail was—
“Jordie.”
—but Mrs. A. was already talking so much I wasn’t even sure they could hear me. I whispered louder while Mrs. A. was writing on the overhead—
“Jordie . . .”
—because I just needed to add one more thing about how Baxter’s ears felt as soft as velvet—
“JORDIE!”
—before I wrote down the big, long answer to question number three.
Mrs. A. seemed extra impatient all day, and I barely had time to tell Megan and Aisha and Jasmine everything else about Baxter during lunch and afternoon recess.
But then, at the end of recess, I suddenly had a terrible thought: What if some new family with a really good home had seen the flyers we put up? What if they’d called Professor Reese after I left for school and then rushed over to her house?
What if when Baxter saw them his whole back half wagged so hard he practically fell over? And then he ran to their car woofing Hooray hooray hooray hooray and never looked back?
What if when I got home from school, he was gone?
6The Buzz, the Pop!, and a Little Bit of Screaming
As soon as the bell rang, I didn’t even wait for TJ, even though we’re supposed to walk home together. I ran straight to Professor Reese’s house.
I grabbed the key from under the potted pink begonia and unlocked the back door. I hurried through the kitchen and the dining room, but at the living room, I stopped short.
It looked like it could have been in a magazine. All the packing boxes were gone. Neat rows of books filled the bookcase. The black coffee table was completely empty except for a glass vase with a single white rose. The room smelled lemony clean, like nobody lived there (or at least, like TJ didn’t live there). It was like a museum, only without the red velvet ropes to keep you out of the displays.
I thought, What if I knock something over? Or break something?
It looked like all the petals of the rose would come fluttering down if I even sneezed. I wasn’t sure I belonged there—like I had to be quiet and careful.
“Baxter?” I said as carefully as I could.
A second later, I heard his toenails scrambling up the basement stairs.
He bounded out of the basement stairwell, his tail spinning a million times a minute. I dropped to my knees, held my arms wide open, and let him crash into me. “You’re still here,” I said into the fur on his neck as I petted and petted and petted him.
I sat back onto the floor, and Baxter climbed all over me, panting in my face.
“I’m so happy to see you.”
