Back The Dog Who Danced Save as PDF
Chapters (68)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Part 1
  5. Prologue
  6. Chapter 1
  7. Chapter 2
  8. Chapter 3
  9. Chapter 4
  10. Chapter 5
  11. Chapter 6
  12. Chapter 7
  13. Chapter 8
  14. Part 2
  15. Chapter 9
  16. Chapter 10
  17. Chapter 11
  18. Chapter 12
  19. Chapter 13
  20. Chapter 14
  21. Chapter 15
  22. Chapter 16
  23. Chapter 17
  24. Chapter 18
  25. Chapter 19
  26. Chapter 20
  27. Chapter 21
  28. Chapter 22
  29. Chapter 23
  30. Chapter 24
  31. Chapter 25
  32. Chapter 26
  33. Chapter 27
  34. Chapter 28
  35. Chapter 29
  36. Chapter 30
  37. Chapter 31
  38. Chapter 32
  39. Chapter 33
  40. Part 3
  41. Chapter 34
  42. Chapter 35
  43. Chapter 36
  44. Chapter 37
  45. Chapter 38
  46. Chapter 39
  47. Chapter 40
  48. Chapter 41
  49. Chapter 42
  50. Chapter 43
  51. Chapter 44
  52. Chapter 45
  53. Chapter 46
  54. Chapter 47
  55. Chapter 48
  56. Chapter 49
  57. Chapter 50
  58. Chapter 51
  59. Chapter 52
  60. Chapter 53
  61. Chapter 54
  62. Chapter 55
  63. Chapter 56
  64. Chapter 57
  65. Epilogue
  66. Acknowledgments
  67. Also by Susan Wilson
  68. About the Author

When Stacy was born, it was a no-brainer, as they say, for Alice to quit her job as a medical secretary outright and become, at age forty, a true stay-at-home mom. Eight hours or more a day were spend being in charge, caring for their daughter, planning meals, and watching out the back window as Stacy and her pals played in the backyard; being the taxi driver and the negotiator; being disappointed when Stacy refused to go back to dancing school, and signing up for booster club when she took up soccer. And yet, when he was around, it was Ed who dazzled their daughter’s eyes.

And now it’s Buddy who dances and prances when Ed comes in the door.

Even before Ed shuts the car off, Alice is out the door. “I’m going to be late.”

“For what?”

“His first class.”

“I forgot.”

Alice gets a good look at Ed as he climbs out of his car. Head to toe, he’s covered in white flakes. “Is the dog as much of a mess as you are?”

Buddy jumps out of the Cutlass and stands beside Alice. His pink tongue lolls out of his mouth; it’s not because he’s panting, but from that happy look that he gets when both of them are there.

“Where is his leash?”

Ed doesn’t answer.

Alice checks the dog over, clearly annoyed. She brushes a hand over the dog’s back, clips on the requisite six-foot training leash, and points him into the open door of the minivan.

Buddy looks inordinately pleased to be asked to go for another ride.

“He might need some water before you go.”

“Take him in, but hurry up. I have to get to Amherst.”

Once, Ed had taken Stacy to the shoe store three-quarters of an hour before she was supposed to be at a game. Neither one of them remembered the game, and Alice was left on the sidelines, furious, apologetic when the coach came looking for his player, and, finally, worried. Eventually, they showed up, sheepish but not nearly contrite enough. That might have been when Alice insisted they invest in cell phones.

Buddy takes no time at all to lap up some water and races back to the garage to take up his place in the minivan.

“Have fun.” Ed presses the button to raise the garage door for Alice.