Lucy didn’t like to think of them driving on the interstate in heavy snow; she doubted Matt was an experienced winter driver. He probably would try to go 65 miles an hour in spite of bad visibility and slippery roads.
Pulling another shirt out of the basket—an expensive designer shirt Toby had received as a graduation present—Lucy groaned. The pocked was ripped, a cuff was dangling loosely, and several buttons were missing. Whatever could have happened to it?
It was hard to understand how his clothes could become quite so stained and torn in the library, where he ought to be spending most of his time. Summer camp, basic training, survival courses—she could see how such programs would be tough on clothing. But French 101, freshman composition, calculus, and theories of government? It hardly seemed they could account for the sorry condition of Toby’s wardrobe.
The pipes began to hum; the college kids were starting the series of showers with which they began every day. Lucy sent up a quick prayer to the plumbing gods, begging that the hot water heater would hold out.
It was at times like these that she missed her father. He had served in North Africa in World War II and had been a master of the one-minute shower. She smiled, remembering him acting out the process for her, fully clothed, of course, in the living room. He could teach these kids a thing or two about conserving water, she thought, as she headed for kitchen.
“I’ve got some clean clothes for you—don’t forget to pack them,” she told Toby, who was pulling a carton of eggs out of the refrigerator.
Matt was standing at the stove, cooking bacon, and Jessica was sitting on the floor, reorganizing her duffel bag. That was the only explanation Lucy could come up with for the mess of clothing and personal articles that was strewn all around her.
“Toby, a lot of your clothes are ripped. What have you been doing?”
Matt laughed. “I told you your mother would be ticked,” he said.
“I was on the rugby team,” said Toby.
“Don’t they have uniforms?”
“It’s a club sport.”
“Oh. Well, from now on, if you’re going to play, wear sweats, okay?”
“Okay,” said Toby. Then, surprising her, he wrapped his arms around her and enveloped her in a bear hug. Lucy responded with a squeeze and ruffled his hair.
“Tough guy, huh?” Matt said, smacking him with the spatula. Toby grinned and put up his fists.
Watching them scuffle, Lucy hoped Toby’s T-shirt, already ripped at the shoulder, would last a little longer. She tiptoed through Jessica’s assorted piles and went into the family room, intending to put Toby’s clean clothes by his backpack. The sight that greeted her, however, made her gasp.
The normally neat, pleasant room looked like a disaster area. The couch had been stripped of its cushions. Clothing, shoes, blankets, sleeping bags, and pillows covered the floor. And for some inexplicable reason, the shade had been removed from one of the lamps. The window blinds, of course, were tightly closed. What did she expect? she thought, snapping the cord. You couldn’t sleep until noon if the light came in, could you?
She was sitting on the uncushioned sofa, staring glumly at the mess, when Bill came in.
“I wish they’d gotten an early start,” he said, looking out the window. “The snow’s starting to come down pretty heavily.”
“It’ll take them hours to pack all this stuff,” she said with a weak little wave of her arm. “Maybe the storm will be over by the time they leave.”
“Buck up, Bucky,” said Bill, pulling a couch cushion out from under a tangle of bedding. “We can have them packed and on the road in no time.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” said Lucy, jumping to her feet and rolling up a sleeping bag.
An hour later the snow had petered out, leaving a scant inch on the roads. Lucy and Bill stood on the porch, waving as Matt floored the gas pedal and sent his battered Saab lurching down the driveway.
“So how does your empty nest look now?” he asked, slipping his arms around her waist.
She stroked his beard and looked up at him. “There’s something I have to tell you,” she said.
Bill’s back stiffened. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“Oh, no,” she said quickly. “It’s not that. But we are getting a dog.”
“That’s okay, then,” he said, nibbling on her ear.
Lucy wasn’t sure he’d heard right, but she wasn’t going to press the issue. “You know what?” she said, slipping her arms around his neck. “We’ve got the whole house all to ourselves.”
“Darn,” he said, pulling her closer. “Another boring Sunday afternoon. Nobody home. Nothing to do.”
“Oh, I can think of something to do.”
“You can?”
He was kissing her.
“Oh, yes,” she said, taking his hand and leading him back into the house.
* * *
Lucy had promised to pick up Zoe at the Orensteins’ at three o’clock. Since she was already out, she decided to swing by Ellie’s house to get Kadjo, too. Zoe wasn’t sure this was a good idea.
“Mom, what if he bites?”
“He won’t bite. He’s a nice dog.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. I wouldn’t adopt a mean dog.”
“We’ve never had a dog before. Why do we have to get one now?”
“Kadjo needs a home.”
“But why does he have to come to our house? Why can’t he go somewhere else?”
“You’ll like him.”
“I don’t think so.”
Lucy pulled into Ellie’s driveway and braked, then turned to face Zoe. “We’re taking Kadjo on a trial basis. If it doesn’t work out, we won’t keep him.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Together they walked up to the house and knocked on the door. Ellie greeted them warmly and invited them in to the kitchen, where Bear was seated at the table.
“Tea for you, Lucy? How about some hot cocoa for Zoe?”
“Sure,” said Lucy, sitting down. “You know, I bet Zoe would like to see your dolls.”
“Would you like that?” Ellie asked Zoe.
“Yes,”
