Page 9 of Love in Training
“The thing I’m bringing . . . it’s . . . it’s important.”
“Come on, Theo. This is stupid. If you won’t tell me what it is, just tell mewhyall this is necessary.”
“Because.” He swallows, and then his jaw hardens as he stares at me through the camera. “I’m bringing you something of Kyle's.”
My lips part as I sink onto one of my barstools, trying to process what he just said. Why Theo would do this to me.
Because Kyle is dead.
CHAPTER
THREE
There must behundreds of dog and cat-related vendors crammed into the National Western complex for the opening of Denver PetExpo on Friday evening. By five o’clock, we’ve walked by everything from five-hundred-dollar dog beds to rhinestone collars and leashes, to jewelry made of cremated pet ashes and specialty toys made to look like political figures. There is a stage holding a pet costume contest, an arena for “wiener races,” and an enormous inflatable pool for something called “dock diving,” where dogs launch themselves into the water to retrieve floating toys. On top of that, we’ve passed a poodle dyed six different colors, a sheepdog being pulled in a wagon, and a fleet of little fluffy dogs that could bark the tune forJingle Bells.
We are in Lydia Richie paradise.
“What should we look at next?” she says, staring around the room with wide eyes, smiling like everyone here is offering her candy.
I glance over her shoulder at a demonstration of a machine that vacuums up dog hair while cutting it, and watch in disgust as a black lab lifts its leg on the end of a table.
No wonder this whole place reeks.
“Are you sure you don’t need to sit down for a little while?” I ask. “We could go back to the Pooch Park booth and get you off your feet?”
Lydia crosses her arms over her nearly eight-months-pregnant belly and glares at me. “You sound just like Anton and Henry.”
“Sorry.” I grimace. “Didn’t mean to emulate the patriarchy.”
This makes her chuckle, but shedoeslook tired. And the thought of spending even twenty more minutes here makes my skin itch. I glance at the folded-up program in my hand and the notes I’ve jotted down over the last hour.
“Really, though. I think I have enough for my write-up. Jeremy’s still around somewhere, taking photos. I’m just going to do an overview of the demonstrations and make sure to name-drop The Pooch Park. Randall will dedicate most of the page to cute dog pics anyway.”
We both pause, watching a fluffy white dog walk by in a rainbow tutu.
“If you think that’s enough.” Lydia looks at her smartwatch and shrugs. “What time is Theo’s flight?”
“He doesn’t get in till seven. But he’s being really weird, insisting I can’t just pick him up curbside. He wants to text me directions when I get there.”
She narrows her eyes. “What’s that about? Where do you need to go?”
I shrug. There’s no way in hell I’d be jumping through hoops like this for anyone but my brother. “Probably he’s just trying to bring Mom something exotic and this whole story about Kyle is a ruse.”
It isn’t totally far-fetched. My brother travels all over the world with the Navy, and he’s made a habit of bringing back rare souvenirs. Once, he got tied up in customs for hours tryingto bring home a fancy Japanese parasol. The agents thought the handle was carved ivory. Turned out it was high-quality plastic.
Except I’m certain Theo would never use Kyle's memory for a stunt like that.
Lydia regards me. “And you have no idea what it could be?”
“No clue.” I turn up my palms. “He didn’t even own enough stuff to fill his apartment. And his family took what he did have.”
“Maybe it’s something Kyle wanted you to have,” she murmurs quietly. “Something that might help you... move on?”
I roll my eyes. “Are you serious right now? I moved on after the anti-wedding.”
At that moment, a woman walks by with two enormous Akitas. Her T-shirt saysThe more people I meet, the more I love my dog,andLydia loses all control. She knows a compatriot when she sees one.
“Oh my gosh, can I say hello? I have an Akita mix at home.”
