Dani rolled her eyes. “I’ve lost my mind. A puppy is the last thing I need right now. But Bella has looked at the puppy pictures a million times. She wants the littlest girl.”

“The runt?”

“She’s always been a sucker for the underdog,” Dani said with some pride. “Bella’s already named her Star.”

“Star?”

“She’s a would-be astronomer,” Dani said.

“Nice.”

“Did I tell you I have an art gallery?”

“No.”

“It’s not the biggest or the fanciest, but we hold our own just fine. You should come by and see it.”

The invitation sounded tentative, as if she didn’t expect Ivy to follow through. “I will come see it.”

“I think we’re being remarkably mature,” Dani said.

Ivy smiled. “That would mean we’re growing up.”

“Happens to the best of us.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN IVY

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

IVY

Friday, January 21, 2022, 5:00 p.m.

By the end of the day, Ivy had cleared out Ruth’s bedroom enough that the clutter around the bed was clear and she could strip the stale sheets and put them into the washer. As the machine chugged, she sat with Libby and the pups, who wiggled and squirmed as they jostled for a nipple.

The diminutive black-and-white runt, Star, seemed to be having trouble finding her spot, so Ivy nudged the creature to the right until her little pink mouth clamped on. She suckled hard, kneading Libby’s belly with her tiny paws. Libby looked up at Ivy, wagged her tail, and then closed her eyes.

Star had a name, and it seemed the others deserved monikers as well. “How about we call the other two pups Sunny and Moon. Very Earth Mother of me, but I’ve got to call them something.”

Libby yawned.

“Not super inspiring but seems to go with Star.”

Ivy rose and checked her watch. Time to get showered and make herself presentable for her nondate with Matthew.

She fished through her suitcase and found a pair of decent jeans, a black V-neck sweater, and snakeskin ankle boots. It was her New York “uniform” she’d worn on her rare evenings off, when she and her restaurant pals had gone out for drinks and dinner. In the restaurant circles, the sous chefs and waitstaff all knew each other. They were their own small town, and at times their relationships were as intertwined as those of any tiny community.

She turned on the hot tap, and she stepped into the stall and let the hot spray wash away the salt and sweat. She tipped her face toward the water, wondering what Dalton was doing this evening. Not that it mattered or that she cared. But still, she wondered.

Though she was tempted to linger, the hot water didn’t last. Ruth had complained about the tank’s heating element but hadn’t fixed it. Typical Ruth. Less hot water meant less water used.