Page 18 of Melting the Ice

After dropping off Arthur and Miss “I don’t understand personal space” Willow, and getting through two easier walks, I headed to my last client’s to grab Buster, a beautiful chocolate lab who just wanted to snooze in the snow.

“Come on, buddy. I have treats for after you do your business.” His ears perked up at the word treats. Being motivated by snacks was something I fully understood, which is why I also had mini dog bones in all my pockets.

“Josie?” a voice asked, and I looked up to see a bundled-up Cora stepping out of a cab.

“Hi. Cora, right? Sorry, I met so many people at Tipsy the other night.”

She smiled. “Yes, Cora. Great to see you again. You have a dog?”

“What? Oh no. Buster is one of my clients. I walk dogs,” I offered. “One of my many random jobs, but it makes the days go by fast.”

“Sounds fun, but how are you not freezing? I’ve lived here forever, and winter is still not my favorite.”

“Multiple layers. And thirty-minute walks, so I’m not out here forever.”

“I’m just stopping at Anna’s for a treat before I have to get back to work,” she said, motioning to the bakery in front of her. I remembered Anna mentioning that she owned a bakery, but I’d forgotten the name.

“Ooh, I’ll have to swing by when I’m dog-free,” I said. “I hate baking. Too much science involved. Too many rules.”

Cora laughed. “I’m terrible at it, too. But Anna is amazing. You’ll love everything you try. I promise.”

“Maybe I’ll swing in after I drop this guy off. He’s my last walk of the day.”

“I’ll probably still be here. Hopefully, I’ll see you soon,” she said, giving me a big smile before she turned to walk into the bakery.

***

Forty minutes later, with Buster back on the warm couch in his home, I grabbed an Uber to head to the bakery. I settled backagainst my seat and pulled out my phone, which had just beeped with a text message.

Mom: Hi, honey. How’s everything going in Denver?

I sighed. Here we go.

Josie: Great. It’s so great.

Mom: Are you still not working? How’s Blaine?

I grimaced at her message. It was always the same. At least she didn’t call this time.

Josie: I am working, Mom. I have my Etsy shop that is doing well and I’m walking dogs.

I didn’t answer her about Blaine. She didn’t actually care.

Mom: Those aren’t real jobs, honey. Have you thought about going back to school? I was just talking to Mr. Harold at the bank, and he has an opening as a teller. Get your foot in the door. It’s a good job.

This time, I groaned. My mother had worked in some form of finance since she was eighteen and had built her career at our local bank. The idea of doing anything remotely like that made my skin itch.

Mom: It’s really snowy out there, too. You should come home.

Josie: I love Denver.

Mom: You didn’t mention Blaine.

I had no choice but to lie.

Josie: He’s great. We’re great. I’ve made some great friends, and I’m staying here.

Mom: Josie. You can’t do random jobs forever.

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