To avoid any future sympathy from Pencil Eyebrows, I busied myself with my phone, googling the doctor that came up on Brady’s screen earlier. Langley, MD. As it turned out, it was a woman, with braided blonde hair, breasts that seemed to defy gravity, and bright-blue glasses. She looked like a female doctor in a porn movie. The thought hit me like a slap in the face. Was Brady having an affair? With a gorgeous doctor, probably the only woman in DC who was more perfect than Perfect Jane? Is that why he acted shady when I saw his phone? Did they roleplay, and did she give him “checkups”? I would have to get to the bottom of that possible rabbit hole.
I traded my phone for my cheesy paperback, suddenly desperate to find out if the surfer/cowboy/hunk was going to wake up from the coma. After a while, two dogs barreled up to sniff my legs. My breath actually caught in my throat when I realized who they were—Pinot and Cab.
CHAPTER 12
WHO KNEW?
I tried to breathe normally, scratching behind their irresistible dog ears, then looked up casually, hoping he couldn’t hear my rattling heart. But Banana Republic wasn’t there. Instead, it was a girl wearing an oversize sweatshirt and skinny jeans. It couldn’t be a girlfriend, unless BR was a cradle-robber. I put her at about fourteen. She came over and smiled at me, saying, “Sorry, they’re super friendly.”
“Not a problem. They’re so beautiful. Pinot and Cab, right?”
She looked at me funny, then said, “Yeah. Do you know my dad?”
“Yes, no. I um, just met him briefly, here.” And I just want to spread him on a piece of toast, I didn’t add.
“Oh, cool. Where’s your dog?”
“The invisible one!”
“What?”
“Kidding. I just like coming here.”
Cab, the larger of the two, seemed suddenly exhausted and plopped down at my feet, crossing his two front paws in a sort of doggy dance pose.
“He didn’t eat his food today,” the girl said. “Which is weird. Must not be feeling well. So wait, you really don’t have a dog?”
“No. But I will soon.”
“Oh-kay,” she said, half mocking me.
I quickly tried to figure out how to get dirt on BR without her thinking I was more of a freak than she already thought I was.
“Do you take them here a lot?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool.”
She gave me a skeptical face, like I was too old to use that word. Cab started sniffing my calves.
“He likes you,” she said.
“Dogs have a thing for me. Men, that’s another story.”
She smiled, and I could see a little bit of BR come through her. It was enough to make me blush.
“So I guess you aren’t married then?”
There it was again. Even from a teenager! I shook my head, expecting pity, but she seemed to get it.
“Marriage is pretty jacked-up, anyway. My parents split when I was eight, and it happened to three of my friends’ parents also, like all in the same summer.”
“The great summer of failed marriages.”
“Yeah. I’m definitely not getting married. Well, maybe when I’m old . . . like, in my thirties or something.”
That stung, so I looked away. Pencil Eyebrows was picking up her poodle, and the last rays of sun had dipped behind the trees. The girl pulled out her phone and started texting furiously. I secretly hoped her text was something like this:
Omg Dad this woman from the dog park is super nice and really pretty—maybe u should date her?
But it was probably more like this:
Dad-I met the dog-less dog park lady. Coming home early.
I attempted to read my book again but realized after a page and a half that I hadn’t been taking it in. Instead, I’d been picturing myself as this girl’s stepmom. I didn’t like small children so much, but taking one on at that age would be perfect. I rested the book on my lap, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath.
The dings and whoops of her texts kept coming and going, until she put her phone back into her pocket and began to slowly pet Cab, who had goop in his eyes. Pinot was at the other end of the park, smelling a particularly interesting part of the fence.
I tried to read again, but stopped midsentence at the sound of her voice. She was singing softly, as if trying to figure out a melody in her head. It was a voice that seemed to be coming from another person entirely. Someone way older, from another time, maybe behind a piano in a smoky bar. I pretended not to listen, but it was like a personal serenade. When she finished, she stood up, smiling again. “Well, I have to bail. Have fun with that classic you’re reading.”
She was on to me.
“Tell your dad I said hi.”
“Sure. What’s your name?”
“Page.”
“Cool. I’m April. My dad says I was born in winter, but it felt like spring.”
I made a noise, as if I was slipping into a hot bath. BR had a daughter who was smart, funny, and had the voice of an old soul. Who knew?
I watched her gather up the dogs and lead them to the exit.
As she waved once more from the sidewalk, I chuckled to myself. To think I could fit into a family with dogs and a winery and a stepchild—was there more than one? I secretly prayed that April would say nice words about me, something that made BR realize I might just be his destiny. Or maybe he had remarried, or worse, had a younger girlfriend. But April didn’t mention anyone, which was a good sign.
When I got home that evening and opened my inbox there was an email from Kevin.
From: [email protected]
Page—
Thanks for your note and very impressive references! I would love to have you walk Sammy. Not sure what your schedule is, but I’m guessing right now it’s wide open? I need someone three times a week, maybe four. I could pay you $25 a walk. I’d love you to come over and hang out with him in his own space first, so text me whenever. I work for myself, so I’m pretty available.
Best,
Kevin
202-569-8576
Wow. How did he know that my schedule was wide open? Was it really that obvious? The words love and come and hang out in the same sentence kind of freaked me out, but $300 a month was a start. I could help pay some of Brady’s bills. Or, at the very least, buy my own wine so I could stop drinking all of his. I poured myself the last of the bottle of Riesling from the fridge and texted him.
Hey there it’s Page-
Sounds good. How about tomorrow at 3 pm?
I was actually giddy. A dog walker? Maybe I would start an empire. Page’s Pooches.
I decided to open another bottle of wine and settle down in front of Brady’s mammoth flat-screen TV. I ended up watching three episodes of Broad City, courtesy of Hulu on demand. My last thought before falling asleep was, At least I’m employed.
CHAPTER 13
RETHINK THE KALE CHIPS
In the morning, as I was cleaning up my room, I came across the card that Joseph, Barkley’s trainer, had given me. After some coffee and two bowls of Brady’s Kashi Go Lean, I decided to call him. He seemed very Airport Bar, but I was slowly becoming more emboldened by the fact that I had nothing to lose. Besides, I was Airport Bar myself.