Page 30 of Worst in Show

“I’m not trying…” He sighs. “Like I said, it’s not personal. To be successful at anything, you have to follow the metrics. The stats.”

I gape at him. He truly thinks I’m the one being unreasonable in this situation. “I rest my case,” I say, sinking back in my seat. When he tries to continue the argument, I put my hand up to stop him. If he hadn’t raised the stakes for our doorbuster, I wouldn’t have yelled for Harvey, and Harvey wouldn’t have hurried and tripped. Some deep part of me knows that’s faulty reasoning, but right now, I need a scapegoat. “Let’s not. Thanks for the ride, and that’s it.”

It’s a relief when he finally parks, and I’m allowed to flee back to my side of the street.

I make it into the store before the tears come. All the tension and worry from the past few hours are coiled tightly in my core and explode until I’m sobbing so hard I have to use the counter for support to stay upright.

The dogs’ whining is what finally snaps me out of it. I wipe my face with the back of my hands while I go upstairs.

“Hi, guys,” I say, moving the gate. “Everything is okay. Pop will be back before you know it.” I say it as much for me as for them.

I sit down on the floor and let the dogs blanket me in their warm, heavy bodies.

What am I going to do? I don’t know how to run the store—Harvey always calls the shots. I’m behind the scenes. The walls around me could not seem taller or more imposing. A million tasks float about my head like some sort of sharp-toothed sharknado. If I linger too long on any one thing, it’ll bite me.

I might have stayed there on the floor the rest of the day if Boris wasn’t the most flatulent dog I’ve ever met. Eventually, I’m forced to get up, if only to open a window, and once I’m up, I make the conscious decision not to sit back down.

“Start small,” I say to myself. “Open the store, call Mom.” Harvey is her dad after all, and I’m hoping she’ll know better than me what to do.

With a steadying breath, I flip the OPEN sign and take my position behind the counter.

Mom picks up after two rings, and after I explain what’s happened, she’s quiet for a long moment.

“Oh, shoot,” she says eventually, as if I’ve merely told her I missed the school bus. “Well, it was only a matter of time. He should have retired ages ago. Stubborn old fool.”

That’s helpful. I rub my brow.

“I suppose that means we should head that way for the holidays again,” she says. “Your dad will be disappointed. He had his heart set on Arizona this year.”

My hands pause their nervous sorting of the stack of mail from this morning. “You weren’t even going to come back for Christmas?”

“Chicago is so cold and snowy.”

I shake my head. I don’t know what I was hoping for. Best to switch gears. “The social worker at the hospital told me the recovery can be lengthy. What should we do about rehab?”

“Well, I don’t know, hon. I’m all the way over here.”

“Mom!” The dogs’ heads whip around to stare at me. “Please,” I say in a softer voice. “He’s your dad. I can’t deal with the store and the hospital and the dogs by myself.”

She’s quiet for another beat. Then she clicks her tongue. “Fine. I’ll make some calls.”

I let out a long breath. “Thanks.”

“But for God’s sake, let the store fizzle, Coralynn. You must have enough saved up for grad school by now, and Dad should be enjoying his sunset days in a nice home.”

I resist the urge to let out a loud cackle. She knows neither one of us.

The corner of a colorful brochure peeks out from the stack of envelopes in front of me, drawing my attention. I tug on it.

“That reminds me,” Mom says. “The sunsets here are remarkable. You really should come. Perhaps you and Dad can join us for the holidays this year instead.”

“Can’t bring the dogs on a plane,” I mumble as I scan the front of the brochure. It’s about Winter Fest and the dog show, and the words I’m reading are not making sense.

ONE WINNER TAKES HOME…

The skin on my arms starts to tingle. That must be a typo. “You know what, Mom, I’ve got to go. Let me know what you find out, okay?”

“About what?”

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