Chapter 2
For several seconds, I could only stare at the receipt.
Ryan’s name was printed at the bottom.
There was a seventy-five-dollar surrender fee.
Appointment time: 10:30 a.m.
Tomorrow.
Buddy pressed his head against Noah’s chest as if he could feel the fear running through him.
I looked at my husband.
“You made an appointment to surrender our son’s dog?”
Ryan stepped onto the porch.
“Emily, listen.”
“No.”
“You need to understand why.”
“No.”
My voice came out so sharply that even Diane stopped smiling.
I held up the receipt.
“You made a plan to take Buddy away without telling Noah.”
Ryan rubbed his face.
“I was going to explain.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“After your mother threw him outside?”
“That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
Diane crossed her arms.
“He was going tomorrow anyway.”
I turned toward her.
“You do not get to speak right now.”
Her eyes widened.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“This is my son’s house.”
“No.”
I pointed toward the street.
“This is the house Ryan and I pay for. Noah lives here. Buddy lives here. You are a guest.”
Diane laughed.
“A guest?”
She turned toward Ryan.
“Are you going to let her talk to me like that?”
Ryan looked trapped.
That expression made something inside me snap.
He always looked trapped when his mother created a problem.
As if the rest of us were somehow responsible for making her behavior easier for him.
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“He is not choosing between us.”
Ryan looked relieved for half a second.
Then I continued.
“He already chose.”
His face changed.
“Emily.”
“You signed the receipt.”
Noah started crying harder.
“Mom, is Buddy going away?”
I immediately crouched beside him.
“No.”
Ryan said, “Emily—”
I turned.
“No.”
Buddy licked Noah’s cheek.
My son wrapped both arms around him.
“He sleeps in my room.”
“I know.”
“He waits for me after school.”
“I know.”
“He helped me when Grandpa died.”
That nearly broke me.
My father had died the year before.
Noah had been devastated.
For weeks, he barely slept.
Buddy started climbing into his bed at night.
I used to find them curled together every morning.
Noah’s hand buried in Buddy’s fur.
I looked at Ryan.
“You know what this dog means to him.”
“I do.”
“Then why?”
Ryan looked toward Diane.
Wrong move.
I saw it.
Diane saw it.
Noah saw it too.
“Because Grandma doesn’t like him?”
Noah whispered.
Ryan immediately crouched.
“No, buddy.”
“Don’t call me that.”
Ryan froze.
Noah hugged Buddy tighter.
“You call him dirty.”
“I never called Buddy dirty.”
“You said he makes Grandma uncomfortable.”
“That’s different.”
“You said Grandma is staying here now, so things have to change.”
My stomach dropped.
I looked at Ryan.
“What?”
His face went pale.
Diane looked away.
I slowly stood.
“What did you tell Noah?”
Ryan swallowed.
“Mom needs somewhere to stay for a while.”
“For a while?”
“Yes.”
“She’s been here three weeks.”
“I know.”
“How long is she staying?”
He said nothing.
There it was.
Another secret.
“How long?”
“Emily, can we talk inside?”
“No.”
“Please.”
“How long is your mother staying in our house?”
Diane answered.
“Until I get back on my feet.”
I looked at her.
“You sold your condo.”
Ryan’s head snapped toward her.
“Mom.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
Diane’s mouth closed.
I stared at Ryan.
“She sold her condo?”
He rubbed his forehead.
“It closed last week.”
“You told me she was staying with us while her bathroom was repaired.”
“I was going to tell you.”
I laughed.
That laugh sounded almost unfamiliar.
“You were going to tell me.”
“Emily.”
“You keep planning to tell me things after you’ve already made decisions.”
“That’s not fair.”
I held up the shelter receipt.
“This says otherwise.”
Diane stepped forward.
“My condo had become too expensive.”
I looked at her.
“So you sold it.”
“Yes.”
“And moved into my house.”
“Our house,” Ryan corrected quietly.
I turned toward him.
“You are making a terrible choice of words right now.”
His jaw tightened.
“I’m saying we both own it.”
“Yes.”
“And neither of us gets to make permanent decisions alone.”
“I agree.”
“Good.”
I pointed toward his mother.
“Then she is not permanently living here.”
Diane laughed.
“Ryan already said I could.”
Noah looked up.
I felt suddenly cold.
“Did you?”
Ryan was silent.
“Did you tell your mother she could move in permanently?”
“I said she could stay until we figured something out.”
Diane snapped.
“You said this was my home too.”
Ryan looked furious.
“Mom.”
“What?”
“You did.”
She turned toward me.
“He told me I’d never have to worry about housing again.”
My heart began pounding.
“How long ago?”
Diane smiled.
“Before I sold my condo.”
I looked at Ryan.
He could not meet my eyes.
“You convinced her to sell it?”
“No.”
“Did you know she was selling?”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell me?”
“No.”
“Did you promise she could stay here?”
His silence answered.
I looked down at Noah.
My nine-year-old son was sitting on the steps thinking he might lose the dog that helped him through grief because his grandmother had quietly become a permanent member of our household.
My anger became strangely calm.
That was when Ryan should have worried.
“Noah.”
He looked at me.
“Get Buddy’s leash.”
“It’s inside.”
“I’ll get it.”
Diane blocked the doorway.
“He is not bringing that animal through my house.”
I stared at her.
“Move.”
“No.”
Ryan immediately stepped between us.
“Mom, move.”
Diane looked shocked.
“What?”
“I said move.”
For the first time that afternoon, Ryan sounded like my husband.
It was too late to impress me.
But Diane stepped aside.
I walked into the house.
Buddy followed Noah close behind.
Diane made a disgusted sound.
I ignored her.
I went upstairs.
Packed clothes for Noah.
Then for myself.
Ryan followed me into the bedroom.
“What are you doing?”
“Leaving.”
His face changed.
“What?”
“For tonight.”
“Where are you going?”
“My sister’s.”
“Emily, don’t do this.”
I turned.
“Do what?”
“Make this bigger.”
I stared at him.
“Your mother threatened our son with food.”
“She shouldn’t have done that.”
“You arranged to remove his dog secretly.”
“I made a bad decision.”
“You moved your mother into our home without telling me.”
“I was trying to help her.”
“Then you should have talked to your wife.”
“I knew you’d say no.”
That stopped me.
He realized immediately.
“What?”
I asked quietly.
“I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did.”
He closed his eyes.
“I knew you’d be worried.”
“No.”
“You knew I’d say no.”
He stayed silent.
“So instead of respecting me enough to have the conversation, you waited until your mother sold her home so I would look heartless if I objected.”
“That wasn’t the plan.”
“What was the plan?”
“I thought you’d adjust.”
My eyes burned.
“Adjust.”
“Emily.”
“You planned my reaction for me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Did Diane ask you to get rid of Buddy?”
Ryan hesitated.
There.
Again.
“Answer.”
“Yes.”
My chest tightened.
“When?”
“Last week.”
“Why?”
“She said she couldn’t sleep because he barked.”
“Buddy barely barks.”
“She says he does when we’re at work.”
“Noah is at school.”
“I know.”
“What else?”
“She thinks the fur aggravates her allergies.”
“Diane does not have dog allergies.”
“She says she does now.”
I laughed bitterly.
“And that was enough for you?”
“No.”
“Then what was?”
Ryan sat on the edge of the bed.
He looked exhausted.
“She said if Buddy stayed, she couldn’t.”
I stopped packing.
There it was.
The real choice.
“And you chose her.”
His eyes filled.
“I thought the dog could be rehomed.”
“He has a name.”
“I know.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“You keep calling him the dog because that makes this easier for you.”
“That’s not true.”
“He is Buddy.”
Ryan looked down.
“He belongs to your son.”
Silence.
“He sleeps beside Noah when Noah has nightmares.”
“I know.”
“He waited by the front window for two weeks after Dad died because Noah told him Grandpa was coming home.”
Ryan’s eyes filled.
“I know.”
“And you were going to put him in a shelter tomorrow.”
“I found a good one.”
I stared at him.
That sentence destroyed the last bit of patience I had.
“A good one?”
“Emily—”
“You think that makes it kind?”
“No.”
“You think Noah would come home from school and be grateful you chose a clean shelter?”
“I was going to tell him before school.”
“Wonderful.”
I zipped the suitcase.
Ryan stood.
“Please don’t take Noah away.”
“I am taking him to my sister’s for one night.”
“And Buddy?”
“Obviously.”
“Mom will calm down.”
“I don’t care.”
“Emily.”
I looked at him.
“Your mother threatened our child.”
“I know.”
“You don’t sound like you understand how serious that is.”
“I do.”
“No, Ryan.”
My voice broke.
“You are still trying to solve this by making everyone calm down.”
His face fell.
“I need you to decide what kind of father you’re going to be.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means Noah watched you stand behind your mother while she threatened him.”
“I didn’t hear her say it.”
“You believed him?”
“Of course.”
“But you didn’t defend him until I came home.”
Ryan said nothing.
That answer hurt more than I expected.
I carried the suitcase downstairs.
Noah had Buddy on his leash.
Diane was sitting at the kitchen table.
She looked at the suitcase.
“You’re really leaving over a dog?”
I stopped.
“No.”
I looked directly at her.
“I’m leaving because an adult threatened my child and his father was too busy protecting that adult to protect him.”
Diane’s face hardened.
“You’re poisoning Noah against us.”
Noah moved closer to me.
I put my arm around his shoulders.
“You did that yourself.”
She stood.
“If you walk out, don’t expect me to beg you back.”
I almost laughed.
“Why would I expect that?”
Diane looked toward Ryan.
He looked miserable.
Then Noah suddenly whispered.
“Mom.”
“What?”
“There’s something else.”
Ryan’s head lifted.
Diane froze.
Noah reached into the front pocket of his backpack.
He pulled out a small black object.
My stomach dropped.
It was an old phone.
Ryan stared at it.
“Where did you get that?”
“Grandma’s room.”
Diane jumped up.
“You went through my things?”
“Noah,” I said gently, “why did you take it?”
His hands shook.
“Because Grandma was talking to Dad on it.”
Ryan went pale.
“What?”
Noah looked at me.
“I heard them yesterday.”
Diane moved toward him.
“Give me that.”
I stepped between them.
“No.”
She stopped.
I looked at Noah.
“What did you hear?”
His eyes filled again.
“Grandma said once Buddy was gone, you would be next.”
The room became completely silent.
I slowly turned toward my husband.
May you like
Ryan stared at his mother.
And for the first time that day, he looked genuinely terrified.
