Page 27 of Salty Pickle

She hears that, though, and glances up, eyebrows raised.

“Is the number you called on a good one?” Kaliyah asks.

“Yes.”

“We’ll see you in a few minutes, then.”

I pocket my phone. I’ll send Lucy into the spa, get her cleaned up, find a shoe store. Then we’ll get on the Uber Pet ride and… oh, damn.

The goat. What will I do with the goat?

“What was that all about?” Lucy asks.

“I got you an appointment at a spa while we wait.”

“A spa? Like for facials?”

Now that’s a word. If we’d done that instead of a condom, we wouldn’t be here.

“A pedicure.”

“But if they use chemicals…”

“No, it’s all earth friendly. Right up your alley. We can pass time while we wait for the ride.” I steer her back onto the sidewalk. “Are your feet feeling okay?”

“Yeah, sure. I walk barefoot in the woods all the time. I’ve built up good callouses.”

This isn’t a picture I want in my head.

We pass by a trash can, but Lucy hesitates to relinquish the tin lid. “It should be recycled.”

“Just apologize to Mother Earth and move on.”

Lucy frowns. “That’s not how it works.”

I snatch the tin lid from her and toss it.

Her frown deepens, and for a second, I think she might dig it out. She better not, because I can see at least three aluminum cans as well.

“That is how it works in New York. There are people who make money by collecting the metals in the trash cans and turning it in.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. It’ll be handled and help someone, too.”

“Oh.” She presses a hand to her cheek, her eyes misting. Seriously, more waterworks? “I like that.”

“It’s your good deed for the day.” I take her arm and steer her toward the spa.

The moment we enter Wenova’s Wellness, I know we’re going to be fine. There are three cats, two dogs, and incredibly, a goat in the expansive front room, sitting in the window for passersby to admire.

The woman behind the desk stands. “Look at your Nigerian Dwarf!”

I recognize the voice from the phone. Kaliyah comes around to greet our goat. She’s tall and picturesque with glowing black skin against a shiny gold dress and jewelry. “What’s her name?”

Lucy beams. “Matilda. She’s two years old.”

“Has she been pregnant? Does she produce?” Kaliyah kneels to pet the goat’s head.

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