Page 107 of Worst in Show

“Something on your mind?” I ask, breathless, as an inner flame animates his face. For once, I want him to let himself go without any careful planning, without weighing each word in gold. Say it even if it’s perfectly imperfect.

He blinks. Then his lips tip up in a half smile. “Nothing.” He pulls the covers back and gets out. “Brr, it’s freezing in here. Can I make you some coffee before you go? Breakfast of champions.”

The muscles on his bare back play beneath his skin as he reaches for his shirt. It transports me to that night in the fields looking for Boris. I still think his naked torso deserves to be cast in bronze and put on display somewhere. Too soon it disappears behind soft cotton.

“Coffee would be great.”

“Stay,” I tell Cap hours later after I’ve cleaned the store, stuffed three new orders into their mailers, and talked to Harvey. I have Cap lying in the middle of my living space, the promise of a treat in my hand keeping him at attention. “Cho, your turn. Hop on.”

She jumps onto his back, and I praise them both. They’ve got this down now, but it’s time for the next step. I make him stand and repeat my commands. “Cap, right here. Stay.”

I tried this a few weeks back when they weren’t ready, which led to Cap avoiding Cho like the plague for a few days. Can’t say I blame him. If someone unexpectedly jumped onto my back, I’d be terrified of her, too. But, little by little, we’ve worked toward this moment. Fancier treats associated with my new command to “hop on” have made Cap more amenable to the circus act. This is the moment.

“Cho, hop on.”

The tiny dog sits back for leverage, pushes off, and lands gracefully on her brother’s back. It’s a dog tower. We did it!

“Yeah!” I laugh. “You guys!” I hand out treats and throw one Boris’s way, too, even though his contribution is limited to staying out of the way. For him, that’s still an accomplishment.

Each dog in the show has only two minutes to show off a skill. My plan is to have Cholula balance on a number of different items and end with Cap’s back. If I had more time, I might have attempted an exercise ball like Harvey suggested, but this will have to do. I feel… okay about it. The outcome will depend on the other contestants. Last year, the most exciting skill was a mini goldendoodle who spent the full two minutes on his hind legs like a meerkat. Cholula would have beaten that easily. The year before that, however, someone brought in a spaniel who could jump through a burning hula hoop. If they come back, we’re toast. Pun intended.

I snap a picture and send it to Harvey. Five minutes later, he calls.

“How did you do that?” he asks.

“Lots of patience.”

“Cho looks well-pleased with herself. Aww, I miss my girl. And you too of course,” he hurries to add.

“They’ll be happy to have you home again. What time are you coming on Thursday?” Mom has arranged an accessible transport through Dalebrook to take him home, and for that I’m grateful. The roads have been salted, but Harvey’s car predates even basic safety measures like airbags. It’s better for everyone that I welcome him here.

“Some time midday, I believe. Hold on.”

Someone speaks on the other end of the line, muffled words I can’t make out.

“Sylvia says the transport picks up at noon. She says hi.”

“Hi, Sylvia. Okay, then I know when to expect you.”

“And you are sure you’ll be all right at your place again? Didn’t Michaela rent out your room?”

“To her sister, but she’ll be moving out soon.” Lucky for me, or I’d have to call the little couch my home a lot longer. “Don’t worry about anything other than getting ready to break out of that joint,” I say. “I’ll be fine. I’m always fine. Are you excited?”

The day is almost gone outside, streetlights casting yellow circles on the plowed snowdrifts. Canine King’s interior is lit up even though they’re closed. I lean closer to the window when I spot Tilly bounding across the floor. What are they doing? My breath makes the pane fog up, and I wipe it off with my sleeve as Harvey recounts his recovery and what he’ll miss about the nursing home. He makes it sound like he’s been on vacation.

A projectile goes flying through the air inside Leo’s store, followed by Tilly jumping up and catching it in her mouth. Leo becomes visible, and the two of them roughhouse with the toy between the displays. I can’t help but smile. Leo backs up again, and it looks like Tilly barks in excitement before she catches the toy again. She’s good.

Oh…

They’re practicing her talent. That means good is bad.

“How does that sound?” Harvey asks.

I’ve completely tuned him out. I move away from the window and take a steadying breath. Many dogs can catch, fewer can balance on their brother’s back. I’ve got this. When I win, Leo will be happy for me. “Sure, yeah, that’s great.”

“Leo is welcome, too, of course.”

Um what? “Welcome to—?”

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