John looked down at the toe of his running shoe, disappointment tugging at his heart. “We’re just looking today,” he said as he stood.
“I could let you have that little tabby for fifty dollars. Now, that’s a real steal.”
John figured that with Lexie’s obsession for animals, if Georgeanne wanted her to have one, she would. “Her mother would probably kill me if I took her home with a kitten.”
“How about a puppy? I just got in a little dalmatian.”
“A dalmatian?” Lexie’s ears perked. “You gots a dalmatian?”
“Right over there.” The saleswoman pointed to a wall of glass kennels.
Lexie gently put the kitten back into the pen and moved toward the kennels. The glass cubicles were empty except for the dalmatian, a fat little husky asleep on its back, and a big rat curled up in a food bowl.
“What’s that?” Lexie asked as she pointed to the almost hairless rat with the enormous ears.
“That’s a Chihuahua. He’s a very sweet little dog.”
John didn’t think it should be allowed to be called a dog. It shook all over, looked pathetic, and gave dogs in general a bad name.
“Is it cold?” Lexie wondered, and pressed her forehead to the glass.
“I don’t think so. I try to keep him very warm.”
“He must be scared.” She placed her hand on the kennel and said, “He misses his mommy.”
“Oh no,” John said as the memory of wading out into the Pacific to rescue a little fish for her swam across his brain. There was no way he was going to pretend to save that stupid shivering dog. “No, he doesn’t miss his mommy. He likes living here alone. I bet he likes sleeping in his food dish. I bet he’s having a really good dream right now, and he’s shaking because he’s dreaming he’s in a strong wind.”
“Chihuahuas are a nervous breed,” the saleswoman informed him.
“Nervous?” John pointed to the dog. “He’s asleep.”
The woman smiled. “He just needs a little warmth and lovin‘.” Then she turned and walked through a set of swinging doors. A few seconds later the back of the glass kennel opened and a pair of hands reached for the dog curled up in the dish.
“We need to get going if we want to make the movie in time,” John said too late. The woman returned and shoved the dog into Lexie’s waiting arms.
“What’s his name?” Lexie asked as she looked down into the beady black eyes staring back at her.
“He doesn’t have a name,” the woman answered. “His owner gets to name him.”
The dog’s little pink tongue darted out and licked Lexie’s chin. “He likes me,” she laughed.
John looked at his watch, anxious to have Lexie and the dog part company. “The movie is going to start. We have to go now.”
“I’ve already seen it three times,” she said without taking her eyes from the dog. “You’re such a precious darlin‘,” she drawled, sounding amazingly like her mother. “Give me some sugar.”
“No.” John shook his head, suddenly feeling like a pilot trying to land an airplane on one engine. “Don’t exchange sugar.”
“He’s stopped shaking.” Lexie rubbed her cheek against the clog’s face and he licked her ear.
“You’ll have to give him back now.”
“But he loves me, and I love him. Can’t I keep him?”
“Oh, no. Your mother would kill me.”
“She won’t mind.”
John heard the catch in Lexie’s voice and knelt down beside her. He felt his other engine die with the ground rushing up at him. He had to think up something fast before he crashed. “Yes, she will, but I’ll tell you what. I’ll buy you a turtle and you can keep him at my house, and every time you come over, you can play with him.”
With the dog curled up happily in her arms, Lexie leaned into John’s chest. “I don’t want a turtle. I want little Pongo.”
“Little Pongo? You can’t name him, Lexie. He’s not yours.”
Tears welled up in Lexie’s eyes and her chin trembled. “But I love him, and he loves me.”
“Wouldn’t you rather have a real dog? We can look at real dogs next weekend.”
She shook her head. “He is a real dog. He’s just really little. He doesn’t have a mommy, and if I leave him here, he’ll miss me really bad.” Her tears spilled over her bottom lashes and she sobbed, “Please, Daddy, let me keep Pongo.”
John’s heart collided with his ribs and surged up into his throat. He looked into his daughter’s pitifully sad face, and he crashed. He burned. No chance of a reprieve. He was a sucker. She’d called him “Daddy.” He reached for his wallet and surrendered his Visa to the happy saleslady.
“Okay,” he said, and put his arms around Lexie and pulled her closer. “But your mom is going to kill us.”
“Really? I can keep Pongo?”
“I guess so.”
Her tears increased and she buried her face in his neck. “You’re the best daddy in the whole world,” she wailed, and he felt moisture against his skin. “I’ll be a good girl forever and ever.” Her shoulders shook and the dog shook and John was afraid that he would start shaking, too. “I love you, Daddy,” she whispered.
If he didn’t do something quick, he’d start bawling like Lexie. He’d start bawling like a girl right there in front of the saleswoman. “I love you, too,” he said, then cleared his throat. “We better buy some food.”
“And you’ll probably need a crate,” the saleslady informed him as she took off with his credit card. “And since he has very little hair, a sweater, too.”
By the time John loaded Lexie and Pongo and the dog’s accoutrements into the Range Rover, he was almost a thousand dollars lighter. On the way across town toward Bellevue, Lexie chattered up a blue streak and sang lullabies to her dog. But the closer they got to her street, the quieter she became. When John pulled to a stop beside the curb, silence filled the car.
John helped Lexie out of the vehicle, and neither spoke as they headed up the sidewalk. They stopped beneath the porch light, both staring at the closed door, postponing the moment when they would have to face Georgeanne with the shivering rat in Lexie’s arms.
“She’s going to be real mad,” Lexie informed him barely above a whisper.
John felt her small hand grasp his. “Yep. Shit’s gonna hit the fan.”
Lexie didn’t correct his language. She just nodded and said, “Yep.”
You can have your career with the Chinooks, or you can have Georgeanne. You can’t have both. He almost laughed. Even if he were to suddenly fall madly in love with Georgeanne, he figured that after tonight, his career was as secure as Fort Knox.
The door opened and John’s prediction about the fan came to fruition. Georgeanne looked from John to Lexie, then to the shaking dog in Lexie’s arms. “What is that?”
Lexie kept quiet and let John do the talking. “Uh, we went into a pet store and-”
“Oh no!” Georgeanne wailed. “You took her to a pet store? She’s not allowed in pet stores. The last time she cried so hard she threw up.”
“Well, look on the bright side, she didn’t get sick this time.”
“Bright side?” She pointed to Lexie’s arms and shrieked, “Is that a dawg?”
“That’s what the saleslady said, but I’m still not convinced.”
“Take it back.”
“No, Mommy. Pongo’s mine.”
“Pongo? You named it already?” She looked at John and her eyes narrowed. “Fine. Pongo can live with John.”
“I don’t have a yard.”
“You have a deck. That’s good enough.”
“He can’t live with Daddy ‘cause I’d only get to see him on the weekends, then I wouldn’t get to train him not to potty on the carpet.”
“Train whom? Pongo or your daddy.”
“That’s not funny, Georgie.”
“I know. Take it back, John.”
“I wish I could. But the sign by the cash register said all sales are final. I can’t take Pongo back.” He looked at Georgeanne standing there looking as beautiful as always and mad as hell. But for the first time since Cannon Beach, he didn’t want to fight with her. He didn’t want to provoke her any more than he had already. “I’m sorry about this, but Lexie started crying and I couldn’t say no. She named him and cried on my neck and I handed the saleslady my credit card.”