“Exactly,” she exclaims.
“Well, your person will come along,” I assure her, “I’m sure they’re closer than you think.”
Chapter Five
Rudy
A few weeks after we hired Ava, I kind of don’t know how we ever lived without her. She’s every bit the perfect Mary Poppins nanny I was hoping for, and then some. Although Mary Poppins didn’t have fiery red curls and the curves of a bombshell.
Ava’s also spent a couple of evenings hanging out with us, and becoming as much a close friend as she is an “employee.”
Dustin is usually the first one home. We get out around the same time each day, but his office is closer, and I typically get stuck in the rush hour traffic on the highway.
But today, special circumstances arose and I got out of the office a little bit early, with a tiny friend in tow. I glance down at the carrier, carefully strapped into my passenger seat. Occasionally, there’s a little whine from the box.
When I pull into the driveway, I unbuckle the seatbelt so I can take the carrier with me. A quick peek through the bars reveals that my charge, while seeming to be rather unhappy, is still safe and sound within. I carry her inside.
“Hey, I’m home,” I call as I step into the house, looking around.
Dustin wasn’t home yet, his car not yet in the garage, but I’d seen Ava’s little blue Toyota parked outside. But at first, I don’t get an answer. For a moment, worry flares, but I tamp down the panic and start to look around.
Movement catches my eye and I glance out at the back patio. Relief washes over me when I see that Ava and Brianna are just outside playing in the backyard. Ava is blowing bubbles and Brianna is chasing them on unsteady baby legs, popping the ones she catches with gleeful claps.
The sunlight gleams in Ava’s red hair and sets it aglow, and her warm brown eyes seem almost golden. She really is a gorgeous young woman, neither Dustin nor I have been able to figure out how she can possibly be single.
I smile to myself and decide to take advantage of the moment to get my charge squared away. We still have a playpen of Brianna’s in the closet that hasn’t gotten used in probably close to a year, and for now, it’ll suffice for a containment unit. I put down a layer of towels and a small bowl of water.
Then, I carefully lower the carrier into the playpen and remove the bolts on the side that hold the top on, and carefully lift off the top and the gated door. The puppy inside lifts her tiny head in surprise, looking up and around. She cautiously takes a few steps, then a few more until she’s outside of the carrier and exploring her temporary surroundings.
The back door slides open and I can hear Brianna mid-chatter-stream, babbling away at Ava about something I can’t quite make out.
I clear my throat and Ava looks up, startled, instinctively reaching for Brianna and starting to tuck the toddler behind her until she realizes it’s just me. She presses a hand to her heart and lets out a sigh of relief as Brianna races over and launches herself at me. “You’re not normally home this early, you scared me half to death.”
I chuckle. “Sorry, wound up taking off a little bit early today.”
She glances down at the playpen in front of me and her brow furrows. “What’s all this?”
“An overnight guest,” I explain, “Some teenage girl brought in a puppy she found in a dumpster today, and none of our usual fosters were available to come get her, so I offered our place up as a crash pad.”
Ava’s face crumbles in sympathy. “In a dumpster? Poor little thing, is it ok?”
“A little bit malnourished, but nothing too serious. Too young to be away from her mama, so it’s possible she was the runt and someone just dumped her.”
Ava comes over and peers into the pen, where the puppy is gnawing at the corner of a towel with what I’m sure the little creature thinks is ferociousness.
“Oh my gosh, she’s precious,” Ava breathes, “What kind of dog is she?”
“I can’t be a hundred percent sure without running an actual DNA test, but I’m just guessing she’s a chug- a chihuahua pug mix. Careful, she’s not aggressive, but she’s teething and she likes fingers,” I warn as she reaches into the pen.
As promised, the pup eagerly lunges and sinks her teeth into Ava’s index finger, but without flinching, Ava just carefully pries her finger from those needle-sharp jaws and gives a firm, calm “No.”
The pup tries again, but Ava quickly tips the pup over so she loses her balance and rolls to her back, then starts rubbing the little velvet belly. The distraction seems to work, the tiny dog lolling into the affection and kicking one of her back legs.
I take advantage of the distraction to let Brianna pet the puppy just a little. She’s nervous about the wiggly critter, however, and doesn’t want to keep her hand in there for long. She squirms and I let her down, and after looking into the pen for a moment longer, she wanders away to go retrieve a doll that’s lying face-down on the couch.
“So someone’s going to pick her up tomorrow?” Ava asks wistfully, watching the pup trot over to drink from the water dish.
“Well, hopefully, I haven’t actually arranged anyone for sure,” I sigh, “I need to call around and see who might have room.”