Page 48 of Hound Dog
My heart broke for my sweet aunt. She truly meant well by giving all these dogs a home. And who knows, she probably did save their lives.
“You know, what you did here, saving all these dogs… it was so heroic of you. You gave them a second chance at life. But even you have to admit, fourteen dogs istoomany.”
Cats were one thing. Sure, six cats was a lot, but most of Meryl’s cats spent the day outside. There were no litter boxes to clean. They came and went as they pleased. There were still too many, but at least they were a hell of a lot more self-sufficient than dogs were.
I placed Rosie in Aunt Meryl’s lap, so she could snuggle with her.
A tear fell down Aunt Meryl’s cheek as she buried her face into Rosie’s neck. “I know,” she finally said. “Rosie would do well in a house with a cat. She likes cats even more than she likes dogs for some reason.”
I nodded and pulled Aunt Meryl in for a hug. “Cat-lover. Got it.”
Three dogs down… a bunch more to go.
With a final sniff and swipe of her cheek, Meryl asked, “So where’d you get to last night that had you out so late?”
I hopped up to pull two mugs down from the cabinet. “I was home bymidnight.”
“Hey, I’m an old lady. That’s late for me!”
“I went to the karaoke bar, Bombshell’s.” Wrapping my hand around the handle of the pot, I poured each of us a generous mug of black coffee.
“Oh, yes,” Meryl said. “Addy Evans’s place. Stupid name, though. It’s left over from the previous owner… some idiot blond with giant boo—”
“Aunt Meryl,” I chastised, while sliding her mug of coffee across the counter to her.
Her brows disappeared behind her fringed, gray bangs. “Well, it’strue. Isn’t it a stupid name?”
I sipped my coffee, not exactly answering. It wasn’t a bad name per se… but Aunt Meryl was right that it didn’t quite fit the place.
“I had fun last night. I met Addy. And I told you about Enzo from the other day— she was there, too. They’re awesome.”
Somehow, I managed to leave out the part where Finn was there. And that he and I sang a duet together. Granted, in this town, it wouldn’t surprise me if Aunt Meryl had already received a text message from someone with video proof.
“I’m glad you’re making girlfriends around here. Addy and Enzo are sweet kids.” Pausing, she threw a finger into the air. “Life Lesson Number Two Thousand Fifty-four…”
I chuckled, readying myself for whatever was coming. At some point through the years, Aunt Meryl had lost count of her lessons. And now she just threw out silly, arbitrary numbers. “Your girlfriends will probably outlive your husband. So find good ones.”
Even though I’d heard that particular life lesson before, I smiled and nuzzled in closer to Aunt Meryl. “Mmm, that’s a good one,” I said.
“Do you have girlfriends back home?”
Loaded question. “Other than Maisie? Not really. I made friends in college, but a lot of them moved away after graduation.”
“You’ve always been a bit of a lone wolf. Just like your mama.”
I was beginning to forget my mom. Not the big things, of course. But the little ones. The sound of her laugh was fading. The strange flip of her hair she would do when she was really worked up. The crinkle of her nose when she smiled.
The memories were all still there, but it was like I was looking at them in the rearview mirror as I drove away. Smaller and fainter they grew, and I knew that, eventually, I wouldn’t remember some of those things at all.
“I miss her,” I admitted.
“Of course you do,”Meryl whispered. “You know, I was her only girlfriend. Other than you, of course.”
Though I knew it was true, it was incredibly depressing. “We were family, not friends.”
“Ah, but can’t we be both?”
“Why didn’t she make more friends?”
