“Hello, Naomi?” the voice on the other end says.

“Yes.”

“This is Dr. Fielding.”

“How is Diesel?” I ask.

Mom watches, eyes wide and eyebrows in question mark.

“Well, he is doing just fine. He ate a big bowl of kibble this morning and he barked at the cat.”

I smile, so relieved I need to swallow hard for a moment. Then I take a big breath. “What did the X-rays show?”

Mom’s brows knit, and she digs her fists into her hips.

“No fracture, which is wonderful. But he scratched up his left hindquarter pretty badly, so he’s sore. We bandaged it. You can pick him up whenever you are ready.”

“Thanks so much, Dr. Fielding.”

“You’re welcome. Goodbye.”

I put down the phone again and take another deep breath. I can’t believe everything may still turn out okay.

“What happened to the dog?”

“Um, well, it’s like this. We went for a walk and he saw a rabbit. When he chased it, he got hit by a car.” I start slowly but then rush the rest of the words. “But he’s okay. It was just a little car. The driver is paying for the vet bills.”

“A little car?” Mom rubs her forehead with her fingertips.

“Yes, one of those Smart Cars.”

She shakes her head. “Why didn’t you call?”

“I didn’t want to upset you.” Her eyebrows question mark even higher, as though she isn’t buying that explanation, so I take another breath and try the whole truth. “I thought you would tell the vet to put him down.”

“If he was suffering …”

“Mom, the bill will be close to two thousand dollars.”

Her head flies back as though someone socked her in the face.

“I would have paid the vet out of my own money,” I say.

Horror opens Mom’s eyes so wide they look like they will bug outside their sockets.

“But it’s okay. Morgan helped me track down the driver.”

“You mean he didn’t stop?”

“It was a girl who didn’t want her breath tested.”

“Still, that was a dangerous thing for you to do.” Mom shakes her head. Her eyes turn normal-sized again, but her head hangs down. “Alone.”

“No, Mom. I had Morgan.”

She lifts her chin and looks me in the eyes. Hers are shiny. “I only wish I could have helped you.”

I take her arm. “Mom, you can help.” I pause. “Is … is Dad here?”

“No. Why?”

The romantic night failed, too. I sigh. “Can you call him? We need to pick up Diesel now.”

By we, I mean I hope she’ll drive with us over to the hospital. But while the conversation on the phone sounds friendly enough, when Dad arrives the two of us head off without her.

“You know I love that dog myself,” Dad says in the car. “I wish you would have told your mom and me what was happening.”

“I wish I could have, too. It’s just the money …”

“But it was so dangerous, going to the driver’s house.