Page 26 of Salty Pickle

I find the Uber Pet options. These have to be reserved in advance. I find one for an hour from now.

“We’ll have to wait,” I tell her, glancing down at her feet. “Why don’t we get you some shoes?”

She shrugs. “I just need to fix mine. I haven’t had a chance.”

“Maybe you should have more than one pair.”

She looks around at the buildings. “I have a feeling there isn’t a pair of shoes anywhere near here that I could afford. I got these from a Buy Nothing group.”

“What is that?”

“A neighborhood group where they trade items they no longer need instead of selling them.”

“I’m buying you shoes.”

She shrugs, and we take off down the street. We’re an odd-looking bunch. Lucy with no shoes, a goat, and a leather knapsack with hay sticking out. Me, with no less than four green “Dill with it” soft-sided lunch coolers slung over my shoulder like I’m hawking stadium souvenirs at a game.

“You’re sure the place doesn’t have leather sofas?” Lucy asks as we pass store windows. “I couldn’t sleep knowing there were skinned cows that close.”

“No leather,” I say, although I don’t really know. It seems unlikely. I’ll hedge my bets.

She unfolds the printout Devin gave her. “You’re right. The pictures look like fabric. I don’t know why I’m so worried. Ouch!” She pauses to pick up a metal pop-top lid to a can. “I’m lucky this didn’t cut me.”

Visions of tetanus shots dance in my head. “You’re not hurt?”

She lifts her dirty, blackened foot. “Nope.”

“It’s not safe for you to walk around. Come over here.”

She holds the lid in her hand as we move close to the wall. There aren’t any trash bins on this block.

We’re stuck. No shop in this area will let her try on shoes like this. I can’t let her walk any farther. What a mess.

I lean my head against the wall, trying to think.

“Can’t we take the subway out to the goat farm?” Lucy asks. “I was able to ride it fine.”

“You got lucky.” I check my watch. “Besides, it’s rush hour, and it’s more likely someone will take issue with your goat.”

“Her name’s Matilda.”

I pull up a map app to see what’s nearby. There has to be something we can do to pass the time, even with the goat. An outdoor cafe, maybe.

But I spot something a hundred times better. It’s a wellness spa, offering holistic healing, meditation yoga, and earth friendly manicures and pedicures. It’s only two blocks away.

Now we’re getting somewhere. I punch the link to call them. I don’t wait for a hello. “Can you do a pedicure right now? I’ll triple the fee.”

There’s a breathy laugh on the line. “Welcome to Wenova’s Wellness. I’m Kaliyah. Let me see if we can work you in.”

Lucy feeds Matilda a handful of grain while I wait. Passersby in New York walk past us briskly, only a few glancing our way. This aspect of the city is coming in very handy at the moment. I can’t stand being the subject of curiosity.

“All right, sir. Yes, we can see you. Are you nearby?”

“Two blocks. We’ll head that way.”

“Can I get a name?”

“Sure. Lucy. Lucy…” I realize I don’t know Lucy’s last name. She’s kneeling in front of her goat, not paying me any mind. “Lucy Armstrong.”

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