Page 51 of Something Tangled Something True
Isabela isn’t technically our niece, but it feels good to hear her call her ours, and even better to know she’s making sure Mayte takes care of herself. I’m overwhelmed with how thoughtful she is. Lola will be an amazing mom someday, and I hope she keeps me around to see it. “That’s so sweet, darlin’. Next time, I’ll watch her and send youbothout for a spa day so you can spend some extra time together.”
“That’d be nice, Ry,” she says, and I can picture her smile without seeing it. It blinds me from here.
“Do you want anything before I get home?” I ask again.
“Oh, uh, how about chicken nuggets? I kind of have a craving for them, and Isabela might actually eat those.”
“Nuggets, comin’ right up. I’ll be home soon.”
“See you soon, Ry,” she says, and the line goes quiet.
I make a U-turn, traveling down the road another minute. A tiny tan blob that looks suspiciously like a chicken nugget sprints along the side of the road; it’s so fast, it seems to be keeping up with my truck. I must be hallucinating, or maybe I have an unknown nugget craving myself. I slow to a stop, squinting to get a better look at the tiny thing.
A tannish-orange and white ball of fluff stops alongside the road, panting, its tongue hanging all the way out of its mouth, and it’s the cutest little thing I’ve ever seen.
I check the road for any oncoming traffic, and when I see none, I toss my door open and sprint around to the front of the truck. “Hey there, little buddy. Are you lost?”
He tilts his head, sucking his tongue back in his mouth as his butt wiggles. Yes, his butt, because evidently, corgis don’t have much of a tail. “Do you wanna go home with me until we can find your parents?”
He runs past me, and before I can make a sprint for him, I see him jump into the passenger seat through my open door.
I get buckled in, rolling down his window for him, but I decide better of that when I realize he’s so small, he might fly right out.
With a tentative hand, I reach out, and when he doesn’t back away, I scratch behind his ears and feel around for a collar, finding nothing. “Don’t worry, little guy. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to meet Dr. Becerra at the vet clinic, and she’ll scan for a microchip. We’ll get you home soon,” I say, patting the top of his head and pulling onto the road, making my way to Lola’s favorite fast-food restaurant.
The rest of the drive passes in a blur of waiting in line for Lola’s order, fighting the urge to call her back and tell her about our new friend, and feeding the little dog a few fries. He gazes out the passenger window, his tiny nub of a tail wagging, long pink tongue hanging from the side of his mouth as we pull through thegates of Rosa Ranch.
“This is your new home, at least for the night. Do you think you could be happy here?” I ask him, my heart thumping violently in my chest at the two high-pitched yaps he barks out in agreement.
The little fluff ball scoots across the seat, nuzzling his long snout under my arm as I park in my usual spot to the left of our cottage-style home. The lack of another car makes me think I should broach the question of whether Lola wants to learn to drive, and if she does, maybe she’ll let me teach her. I know years of living in the city were her excuse for never bothering to get her license, but I can’t help but think her ex might have fed into her fears.
I know as well as she does how suffocating it can be to have free will, two working legs, and someone to come home to each night andstillfeel completely, utterlyalone.
After a quick potty break in the yard, the little guy follows me up the porch. The way he sticks by my side makes me think he has a family looking for him somewhere, and as much as I’d love to welcome him home permanently, I wouldn’t keep him from the people who love him.
I crack the front door open and stick my head in. “Hey, darlin’. I’ve got something for you,” I holler inside.
“Oh my gosh, you’re a saint!” she says, grabbing the brown paper bag from my hands and clutching it to her chest. She leans forward, pecking me on the cheek and turning toward the kitchen.
“Lols, there’s something else,” I say, and she twists around, cocking her head to the side.
“Did you get ice cream too?” she asks, her eyes glittering.
I take a step back, making a mental note to run out for ice cream before bed, and open the door wide. The little dog sprints inside, jumping up her legs.
Her eyes light up as she bends forward, picking him up with zero hesitation. “Oh my goodness, hello,” she says, kissing his head as he shimmies in her arms.
“I’d like you to meet Nugget,” I tell her.
“Nugget? I asked you to get me chicken nuggets, and you came home with acorgi named Nugget?”she asks in disbelief.
“To be fair, Ialsobrought the chicken nuggets. I don’t really know his name, but that’s what I’m calling him since he looks like a chicken nugget.”
“You don’t know his name?” she asks, her dark brows pinching together.
“I found him running along the road. He’s got no collar, but I’ll take him to scan for his chip in the morning. For now, we’ll just make sure Nugget has a good dinner.”
Lola smiles and steps forward, cupping my cheek. “You’re a good man, Ryder Lockhart.”
