Nonetheless, Artie pulls his cap off his head and nods. “Justine, I am truly sorry for leaving you behind. But you—” Another smack from Old Trucker stops his feeble attempt to pin the blame on me. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t care that you left me behind. I do care that you were so cruel to my dog. An innocent animal. Why didn’t you—” This time I’m cut off.

“There weren’t a lot of choices out there. If I’d missed my deadline again, that would be the last time my agent was gonna get me work. It was my last chance.”

“Then why not just hang on to him? Take him to Boston with you. Make your deadline. Then call me to come get him.” I am suddenly gasping for breath, as if I have asthma. “Why didn’t you just answer the phone and we could have straightened this all out?”

Artie squeezes the bill of his cap and then replaces it on his head. “Didn’t think of it. I have to go. See you around.”

He almost gets away, but one look from me and my two new friends block his way. “Is there something you’d like us to do, ma’am?” The older guy meets my eye; then the pair of them take Artie by either arm. We all look through the glass to the garage to make sure we’re unobserved.

“I can do it myself.” I punch Artie in the gut with all the force of my anger and grief for my dog. The two let go and he drops to his knees.

“One thing’s for certain, Artie Schmidt. Don’t you ever show your face in Candy’s Place ever again.”

Artie leans on one of the plastic chairs to get to his feet. This time, Old Trucker and Young Trucker let Artie leave the room. They drift back to watching the ball game and I stand at the glass wall, watching as Artie makes it back to his truck. Then I remember something. I race back to the bay.

“Wait.” I run to the right side of the truck and swing open the door, climbing up on the running board to get inside. I find what I’m looking for easily. Mack’s collar is caught in my sleeping bag. I retrieve my last connection to Mack. The feel of his leather collar in my hand pushes a new surge of anger and despair through me. My dog was abandoned on the highway.

Artie has climbed into his seat and is staring at me, as if he half-expects I’m going to stay in the cab.

“You never fulfilled your promise. You took my money and dropped me. The way I see it, you got me only halfway to where I was going, so you should give me back half the money.”