She eyed my hand like it held a tarantula, but she took a few steps forward and slid her tiny hand into mine.
I gave her a squeeze and opened the door. “Off on the Great Taz Adventure!” When I looked down, I thought I saw the ghost of a smile on her face but didn’t have time to inspect it more closely. That, and bending down to examine her face so I could see my first Cindy smile, while tempting, would probably ensure I never saw another one.
Rushing as fast as I could with Cindy in tow, I made my way down the street, my head swiveling all around.
“Taz,” I whisper-yelled repeatedly as we walked.
There was no sign of the mutt, and after fifteen minutes of searching, I was starting to contemplate what I was going to tell Harry. “Hey, sorry, Harry, while you were visiting your dying father-in-law, your dog pulled a Houdini and is likely lost forever. My bad.”
Though I didn’t know his father-in-law was dying. Harry had texted earlier to check in but hadn’t given me any details, and I hadn’t asked. If the guy actually passed away, I was going to feel guilty for throwing that thought into the cosmos.
I didn’t realize I began muttering under my breath until Cindy pulled on my hand.
I looked down at her. “Sorry, Cinnabon.”
When I made to move farther down the street, Cindy didn’t budge.
“What’s wrong?” I asked her.
She pointed toward a playground.
I squatted down so I was on her level and smiled. “It’s a little late to go to the playground now, but we can come tomorrow.”
She shook her head at me, her eyes drifting closed like she was dealing with a dolt. Her hand lifted again to point at the playground.
“Cindy, we can’t…” I finally looked where she was pointing and saw that wild beast Taz curled up under a slide. Thank goodness there were lights around the area, or I never would’ve seen him. Or Cindy wouldn’t have. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t have seen him even if a UFO had been beaming light onto him.
I approached Taz like one might approach an alligator. If he took off again, I’d have to let him go. I couldn’t keep dragging Cindy around the neighborhood.
“Okay, Taz, easy does it. Just stay right there and let me get my hands around your neck.”
Cindy, whose approach had been a slow creep beside me, stopped and looked at me.
“I didn’t mean that how it sounded,” I promised.
She seemed to take my words at face value, which was good because I hadn’t meant them. Finally, we reached the slide, and I crouched in front of it, which caused Taz to scoot back farther. He looked ready to bolt, the bastard.
I looked at Cindy. “Maybe you should try calling him.”
Cindy tilted her head as if considering my suggestion. Then she knelt down, no doubt getting the knees of her jeans filthy, and patted her lap.
“Come here, Tazzy,” she said in a voice so soft I wouldn’t have heard if I hadn’t been so close. Her words took me aback a bit, having only heard a seldom singular word here and there over the months I’d known her. Her voice was as sweet as a second grader’s should be.
Taz inched forward. Cindy patted her thighs again. “It’s okay, Tazzy. It’s time to go home.”
At the mention of the word home, Taz stood up and pushed himself onto her lap, licking her face affectionately while I secured the leash on him.
“What did I tell you?” I said to her. “I knew he’d go to you. I never would have caught him without you.”
She smiled and readily accepted my hand when I held it out to her. We walked Taz home and then I quickly fed the dogs and took them into the backyard again—on leashes this time—with Cindy hovering behind me. When we came back in, Cindy went over to settle on the couch as I tidied up a bit. After a couple minutes, I lifted my head to ask if she needed anything, and I saw tears streaming silently down her face.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” I asked as I sat beside her on the couch.
She didn’t answer. There was no sound escaping her, but tears were steadily streaming down her face, and she was clutching a stuffed armadillo. I wasn’t sure how an armadillo was comforting, but the way Cindy held it tightly against her said it was.
“Do you feel okay?” I asked.
No answer. I reached over and gently pulled her hand to rest on the back of mine.
“Can you tap once for no and twice for yes?”
Thankfully, she gave me two taps.
“Are you hurt?”
One tap.
“Sad?”
Two taps.
“You miss your mom?”
Two taps.
I sighed, unsure of how to fix that. Taryn had said she’d try to call Cindy when she had a break, but other than a text an hour ago asking if everything was okay, there’d been nothing. Taryn had said she would be on the casino floor and would be unable to check her phone, so us calling her would be pointless.
Then I had an idea. “You want to record a message for her, and I’ll text it so she can watch it when she gets a break?”
One tap.
Shit. “How about I order our pizza and we can watch a movie? Your pick.”
Two taps.
“Great.” Feeling relieved to have a plan, no matter how flimsy, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and searched for local pizza places. Only one came up that delivered within a ten mile radius. How did Harry and Justin survive under such conditions?
When the call connected, I asked for delivery.
“Our driver had to go home sick. We got another guy coming in, but we’re not taking any more delivery
