“Normally, we let them go at eight weeks, but I would recommend twelve weeks for this little gal,” the breeder said. “How’s that sound?”

Jaya completed the paperwork and wrote out the deposit check. When they left the house a few minutes later, Karina was light on her feet with a limitless smile.

“Why is it called a goldendoodle?” Prem asked. “I mean, if you cross a golden retriever with a poodle, you could also call it a goldie-poo.” He paused, thinking. “Or a poo-retriever. Ha!” He snort-laughed. “A poo-retriever, get it?”

Karina rolled her eyes and jabbed his shoulder as they climbed into the car.

“So, I’m not picking up any dog poo, okay?” Prem said. “Karina can train that intelligent dog to do it himself.”

“Herself. She’s a girl, dummy,” Karina retorted. “And I already said I would walk her, feed her and brush her teeth. So, what should we name her?”

Embarking on the hour-and-a-half drive home, they stopped at a roadside stand to purchase three quarts of the strawberries for which Watsonville was known, and made a spontaneous side trip to Gilroy, the garlic capital of the world. At a family diner, they gorged themselves on garlic fries and played their drawing game on the paper tablecloth: one of them started a drawing, then each person added an element, taking turns until they ended up with some nonsensical figure, like a man with a tree growing out of his head, or a house with a cat face for a roof. Then they all proposed a name for the picture and voted on the best one. Today’s picture ended up being a dog with a garlic bulb nose, and they decided “Gilly” was a good name for a puppy.

“Not the healthiest meal,” Jaya said, as she continued plucking strawberries from the limp cardboard box on the drive home. “But we did manage to get in fruits and vegetables, so not all bad either.” By the time they arrived home, the strawberry boxes were empty and stained and Prem had fallen asleep, his head resting on the back seat next to Karina, where she let him lie, undisturbed.

4 | Jaya

May 2009

“Oh, this is heaven,” Jaya said, falling back onto the plush canopy bed. Outside the hotel’s picture window, the pyramid building punctuated San Francisco’s skyline. “Absolute heaven. Forty-eight hours of complete freedom. I honestly don’t know what to do with this much time.”

Keith crawled across the bed toward her and straddled her body with his knees. “Oh, I can think of a few things.” He kissed the tender hollow of her neck and made a trail around to her earlobe, nipping at it gently.

“Mmm.” She held his head in her palms and kissed him deeply on the mouth, tasting the lingering flavor of his minty gum. “We don’t even have to be quiet,” she murmured.

“And we don’t have to be quick.” They slowly undressed each other and took their time exploring each other’s bodies, familiar after twenty years together, but no less thrilling due to the unusual sense of abandon they felt in the privacy of the hotel room.