does ‘not a dog person’ look like?”
“They look pretty much like you. They keep their distance from the animal, sometimes it’s because they’re afraid—”
“I’m not afraid of dogs.” She thought he was a coward?
“—and sometimes it’s because people simply don’t like dogs, which is perfectly fine with me—” her tone suggested it wasn’t fine with her at all “—as long as they don’t try and care for a dog. You have a dog to care for, and the only solution I can come up with is that I will take Madi with me.”
“Take her? Take her where?”
“Home. I’ll call a cab and I can take Madi and all her food and belongings over to my apartment.”
“I can’t let you do that. I don’t even know you.”
“Madi knows me.” Offering her support to that statement, Madi pressed close to Harriet, licking her face adoringly.
Ethan tried not to think about all the potential pathogens she was spreading. “Are you allowed pets in your apartment?”
“I would never live anywhere that wouldn’t let me keep a dog. I often foster animals for the animal shelter.”
And now she wanted to take Madi. She was offering to remove his problem.
He was sorely tempted to let her do exactly that, but then he remembered his promise to his sister.
He thought about Karen, lying in hospital anxious about her dog.
“I can’t let you do that.”
“You don’t have a choice, Dr. Black, because I’m not leaving Madi here with you.”
Had Debra really said Harriet was gentle and mild?
Clearly she didn’t know her well.
He breathed deeply. “Can we start this again? I had a long day. A difficult day. I returned home to mayhem. I’ve needed an adjustment period, that’s true, and it’s also true that I have almost no experience caring for animals, but this dog is precious to my sister and my niece and I will do whatever it takes to make her happy while she’s staying with me.” He couldn’t believe he’d just said that. “But I’m going to need you to help me because, as you rightly say, I know nothing about dogs. And before you think that disqualifies me from caring for her, I should emphasize that I’m a quick learner.”
“I don’t think it’s in Madi’s best interests to stay here.” She stared at him for a long time and he sensed she was trying to read him.
“Look—have you eaten?”
“Excuse me?”
“Have you had dinner? It’s late. I’m hungry and I worked right through without lunch. My job doesn’t leave much time for food or bathroom breaks. You might as well join me and we can talk this through. I need to convince you I can be a good temporary home for Madi, but I can’t do that while you’re sitting there covered in snow glaring at me as if I’m an axe murderer. So let’s have dinner.” Why was she still staring at him? And why did she look so horrified? “I’m hungry. You must be too.”
There was a pause.
“I—I don’t think that’s a g-g-g—” She broke off, visibly dismayed.
He wanted to tell her that it wasn’t a big deal. He almost finished her sentence but then remembered his old girlfriend telling him it was the worst thing you could do for someone who stammered.
So he stayed silent and waited. Listened.
When it came to clearing up the mess left by a dog he’d lost his cool, but with this he had endless patience.
There was a tense silence.
Still he waited. He saw her throat move as she swallowed. Saw her draw in a breath and brace herself to try again, like a swimmer about to plunge into deep water that had already tried to drown her once.
“—sensible.” She changed the word and it came out smoothly, but he didn’t see relief in her eyes. He saw embarrassment.
“I’ve made you nervous because I barked at you.” He wondered whether to be blunt or tactful. He went with blunt. “You stammered, and I’m guessing that was because of me.” The deepening color in her cheeks told him he was right. “You mostly have it under control, is that right? And then I walked in here with my big mouth and my insensitive ways and it came back.”
There was a pause and for a moment he thought she wasn’t going to reply.
“Y-yes.”
Knowing that made him feel almost as bad as she did.
“Why? What is it about me that triggered it?”
“You were angry. I’m not g-g-g—” She stopped, frustration in her eyes.
He could feel her agony. He witnessed people’s agony daily, but witnessing it and being the cause of it were two different things. This time he was feeling it with her and it was a profoundly uncomfortable experience. Clearly he wasn’t as emotionally numbed as he’d thought. He had his usual urge to fix it, but this time he wasn’t dealing with blood or broken bones. He’d inflicted damage for which there was no easy fix.
She took another couple of breaths and tried again. “Angry people upset me.” She stooped to pick up her bag, stuffing everything back inside. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters, and not just because you’re going to be helping me with Madi. We’re going to figure this out.”
“I c-c-c—” She closed her eyes briefly. “Can’t work with you.”
He felt a flash of concern.
If Harriet refused to help him then he was in serious trouble.
“I handled the situation badly. I’m sorry and I want us to start again. You weren’t mad with Madi when she destroyed my apartment. You understood that there was something going on underneath. That she was upset.” On impulse, he dropped into a crouch and held out his hand to Madi. “Come here, girl.”
The dog looked at him warily and he couldn’t exactly blame her.
Obviously deciding his contrition was genuine, she trotted across to him.
He stroked his hand over her head, feeling silken fur under his palm. “Good girl. Lovely girl. Most beautiful dog in the world.” Madi sat down and looked at him. Ethan looked at Harriet. “If she’s ready to give me another chance, surely you can too?”
Harriet straightened and slid her bag onto her shoulder. “That’s a low trick, Dr.—”
“Ethan.” He said it softly. “My name is Ethan. And it’s not a trick. Stay for dinner. Dinner and one conversation. That’s all I’m asking.”
