Page 114 of Worst in Show

I assure them it is and hurry to close the transaction.

I thought you quit, I text Jaz as soon as I’m alone again. I’m standing by my door watching as she picks up her phone. A moment later, she looks my way.

I did. But he needed someone at short notice and I don’t start my new job downtown until Monday so… She adds three cash wad emojis to explain the rest.

Gotcha.

Micki says he’s being a moron, she types next. Sorry. Need me to do any spying? Put some cheese in the storage room? *Mouse emoji.*

The corner of my mouth quirks.

Last chance, she says. His aunts will be here tomorrow.

No cheese, I text. But maybe… I hesitate, thumbs at the ready. Should I? But maybe let me know if you hear anything. It’s the masochist in me—what can I say?

She sends me a thumbs-up.

The doorbell jingles, and Mrs. Callihan comes inside with her Pekingese in tow. I put my phone down but turn up the ringer.

I fully expect Leo to ace his interview, and the sooner I know he’s gone for good, the sooner I can start the process of moving on.

You got it, Pop?” I stand with my arms stretched out, preparing to catch Harvey if he falls coming down the ramp of the transport that’s brought him home from Dalebrook. He walks with a cane, no wobble in his step, but I’m not taking any risks. The cobblestones behind our building are precarious on any given day, and right now they’re covered in snow as well.

“I’m fine.” He takes the last step onto the ground and smiles. “Ah, it’s good to be home.”

“The stairlift guy was here finishing up earlier, so everything is ready.”

“You’ve had a busy morning then.”

I have. Small blessings. I’ll take what I can in the form of distractions to keep me from thinking about where Leo is right now and why. Nope, there I go again.

“Where are my pups?” Harvey asks as we head inside.

“Upstairs. I didn’t want them knocking you over.”

He stops at the bottom of the stairs, mouth falling open. “The store.” He turns to me, excitement sparkling. “It looks fantastic. You did all this yourself?”

I try to see what he sees. The space is better organized these days, not as chaotic. And the lower tables in the front offer a good overview of in-season items. “Micki helped.”

He steps up to the counter and runs his fingertips over the display of tags. When he looks at me again, his eyes are red-rimmed and glistening. “You’re the best damn granddaughter a man could have, kiddo.”

I stand cemented to the ground. I’ve never seen Harvey cry, and it’s jarring.

“Forgive an old man.” He sniffles and dabs at his crow’s feet with his sleeve. “Nothing like being bedridden for two months to remind you of your mortality.”

That sets me in motion, and I all but rush him and wrap my arms around him. He smells like bar soap and wool, and I inhale deeply. It takes a beat, but then he hugs me back.

“There, there. You’ve worked hard.” He pats my back but then holds me at arm-length’s distance. “You did good, Cora. And I’m here now.”

I nod, the lump in my throat blocking my words. Yes, he’s here now. Not sure about me “doing good,” though. Unless Saturday goes my way, we’re still in a precarious situation.

A duet of whines rises above our conversation, making us turn our faces upward. Cap and Cho are looking at us through the gate at the top of the stairs, pacing with impatience.

“You’ll have to show me how that contraption works,” Harvey says, nodding at the lift.

I take a second to refocus before pulling my features into a smile. “Nothing to it. You sit down, strap in, and move this switch.”

He lowers himself into the seat, and I point to the seat belt.

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