Nina Wright - Whiskey Mattimoe 06 - Whiskey and Soda (33 page)

Maybe Peg was onto something. We could rebrand Magnet Springs as a pet-friendly mecca. I imagined humans and their four-leggers converging from around the world for recreation and renewal. It could happen.

“I told you, Whitney,” Mom called out, “bridal showers can be fun.”

She and Howard danced cheek to cheek to a little impromptu music provided by my fiancé. He must have stashed his acoustic guitar here earlier. Other couples danced, too; Jeb played every request he could honor. After about an hour, he held up his guitar and called out a request of his own.

“Hey, can somebody else play so I get a dance with my bride-to-be?”

To my surprise, Chester took the instrument.

“I can play ‘Call and Answer,’” he said, referring to the Barenaked Ladies tune that Jeb and I considered “our” song.

It wasn’t the best number for dancing, but it was the right song for us. On the dance floor we held each other close. Jeb placed his hand on my belly, and we both felt the kicks, a joyful little shuffle. Our baby was celebrating with us.

“Whaddaya say, Mattimoe? How about getting married right now?”

I studied Jeb’s face. His handsome, clear-eyed, earnest face.

“Think about it,” he said. “We got the license, the hall, a judge, and all your best friends. Plus, it’s almost Christmas. What could be better?”

So it was that my bridal shower—a party I had never, ever wanted—turned into my wedding, an event I suddenly wanted with my whole heart. A surprise wedding with friends, family and canines. Jeb excused himself to confer with Wells before we began the proceedings. I had a little business to attend to myself.

Using her leash for a change, I walked Abra sedately to the ladies’ room, which was conveniently vacant. We needed the facility for a human-canine tête à tête. With neither grace nor ease, I lowered myself to the slate floor and peered into Abra’s alert eyes.

“Hey, this is a big day for me, girl. One of the biggest ever.”

She cocked her sleek head suspiciously.

“How can I explain this?” I began, wondering why I even felt I had to. Yet it was something I still owed Leo, and this stubborn, stunning Affie was forever a part of him. “We all need somebody to love. You and I both loved Leo, and—oh my—how Leo loved us.”

Nearly two years after her beloved master’s death, the mere mention of his name still arrested Abra. She turned her head away, as if listening for his voice or hoping to catch a fleeting glimpse of him.

“Leo’s gone forever, girl. He’s the good man who had to leave us way too soon.” I swiped at the tears suddenly tumbling down my cheeks. “But you and I are still here, and we need somebody to love. Wherever Leo is, believe me, he understands.”

She gazed at me, and I stroked her graceful neck.

“I was lucky to find Jeb again. He’s a good man, too, you know.”

Abra responded with a sound I’d never heard before, something between a sigh of agreement and a groan of regret.

“His taste in canines may be questionable,” I admitted. “But Jeb is to me what Norman the Golden is to you—my one true love.”

Abra’s whimper indicated that I had no right to speak on her behalf. Much as she loved Norman, maybe she wasn’t ready for monogamy.

“You need to feel appreciated when Norman’s not around? Is that it?”

She wagged her tail.

“I understand. Now here’s the thing.” It wasn’t easy to lean forward, but I managed, hoping fervently that my dog would accept my proposal. “From now on, Abra, Jeb is going to live with us, and we’re going to make a family.”

By way of illustration, I patted my bump, which she sniffed indifferently.

“You’ll learn to love that little one, I hope.” I swallowed a shard of anxiety. “And then there’s the Frenchie. I understand you’ve been sisters before, but this time will be better because I promise to be a good, fair, loving mother to you and Sandra, as well as the new two-legger. So how about it, Abra? Leo wants this for us, I know he does. He valued family above all.”

Now I was crying for real, tears flowing in abundance. To my astonishment, Abra kissed my wet cheeks with her smooth, insistent tongue. A cynic might say she was thirsty for saltwater, but I knew otherwise. The Affie was giving me her blessing, or at least a tentative seal of approval. I kissed her back, planting a loving
mwah
on the top of that maddeningly beautiful blonde head.

After washing my face and finger-combing my hair, I met Jeb in the dining room, ready to join my life with his in front of God and everybody. I asked Mom to be my matron of honor. That seemed only fair since she had been right about the bridal shower and a few other things.

Abra and Sandra were my bridesmaids, of course. Coached by Anouk, and cheered by the whole crowd, they strutted down the makeshift aisle with perfect doggie dignity. Jeb whispered to me that he wished he’d had time to buy Sandra a frilly dress and veil. We could argue about her wardrobe later. Or maybe Abra and I would both learn to let that go.