Manning barked a deep laugh that made Dee and Dum go still in the backseat. “You didn’t even want them in the first place.”
I covered Lady’s ears. “Shh. Don’t let them hear you say that.”
“Christ.” Manning stretched an arm along the back of my seat, absentmindedly touching my hair. “And what’ll everyone think if we show up to a—what’d you call it?”
“A puppy party.” I smiled. I’d co-opted Sunday dinner and invited Manning’s and my closest friends to my parents’ house to adopt a dog. Fortunately, they all seemed into the idea, because I hadn’t really given them much choice.
“What happens when we show up to a puppy party with no puppies?” Manning asked.
“I don’t think I care.” I held up Lady to Manning’s profile. “Do you see this face?”
“All I’ve seen the past month are big ol’ puppy-dog eyes, and not just from the dogs.” He arched a scolding eyebrow at me. “How you talked me in to keeping two of them, along with Blue, I’ll never understand.”
“With names like Altair and Vega, how could they not be ours?” I picked white fur off the Pink Floyd concert tee Manning had bought me when we’d seen Roger Waters live a few years earlier. “They’re two-thirds of Summer Triangle.”
“You do realize they didn’t come out of the womb with those names . . .”
I huffed. “It was always in the plan to have lots of animals. You knew that.”
“Over a lifetime, yes. Not all at once.” He sighed. “I’m dreading explaining three dogs to your dad. He’s going to think I’m some kind of pushover.”
I didn’t want to break it to Manning that when it came to me, especially where puppy-dog eyes were involved, he was a pushover. “Oh, fine,” I said, picking up Lady for some kisses. “We’ll have to come visit every weekend then.”
Manning flipped on his turn signal, shaking his head. “First you get mad Blue’s pregnant, then you want to keep the entire litter. Now, you want to pay four visits a month to the family you didn’t speak to for over a decade.” He grunted but twirled a piece of my hair around his fingers. “Talk about a moody bitch.”
“Hey,” I said, smacking his chest as he laughed.
* * *
Manning and I had barely leashed the puppies when Gary opened my parents’ front door. The dogs ran circles around us, tangling their leashes as they sniffed out where to go to the bathroom.
“Are we late?” I asked, trying and failing to check my watch as Tweedledee pulled my arm taut. “I was going to walk you guys in since you don’t really know my parents that well.”
Lydia ducked under Gary’s arm. “It’s fine,” she said with a dismissive wave. “We talked to your parents at the wedding. I wanted to have first pick of the litter.”
“You can’t go wrong with any of them,” I said. “Although, they do have personalities.”
“Which one’s a beach dog?” Gary asked, coming down the walkway. “I need a surfing pal.”
“Surfing?” Lydia asked him. “As if I need more sand in the house. Which one’s not a beach dog?”
“Welcome to your future,” Manning said, passing Gary a plastic bag and pointing to Dee’s pile of poop. “Get scooping.”
My mom came to the door, waving us in. “What’re you doing out here?” she asked. “Everyone’s in the den.”
“The puppies are full of energy,” I said, hiking up my jeans. “They need to do a few laps around the block.”
Manning handed me Lady’s leash to help Gary. “It’s been a while since you’ve had kids in the house,” he said to my mom as he pulled another plastic bag from the back pocket of his jeans. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“We’ve never had a dog,” she answered, and with far less enthusiasm than I’d hoped for. “Except that one that died when Lake was seven.”
“Mom, please,” I hissed, picking up Lady while tugging the other puppies up the front steps and into the foyer. “They can understand you.”
Her eyes went wide. “They can?”
“Yes.” I set Lady down and hung my purse on a hook. “Dogs can read moods. They’re very sensitive. Death might depress them.”
“Bullshit,” Dad said, coming out of his study. “Don’t tell me you buy that, Cathy.”
“Well, Lake is a vet.”
“Exactly,” Dad said. “She should understand that these are animals with one purpose: survival. They do not have emotions. They’re not teddy bears.” He stooped to pick up Lady, the calmest of the three, and held her in front of his face. “I could say this one’s going to be nothing but a nuisance in this household, and she wouldn’t understand a thing I said.”
“She senses your energy, Dad—whether you’re scared, happy, distressed.”
He tsked. “I’m surprised to hear that from a science-minded woman. Next you’ll tell me you believe in Tarot cards or magic or psychics. Nonsense.”