At Fiona’s approach, Chloe barked and pulled on the leash. Fiona wasn’t sure who was more surprised, Pom or master, when Lissy hissed out a no-nonsense Stop and brought Chloe to heel.
“Excellent. Again.”
She repeated, repeated until at her approach, Chloe simply continued to walk politely at Lissy’s heel.
“Well done. Syl, would you mind? Syl’s going to walk by now. Syl, stop and chat, okay?”
“Sure.” Sylvia strolled up, crossed paths. “Nice to see you.”
“Okay. Gosh.” Lissy stopped, blinking when the pretty little Pom did the same without snarling or yipping. “Look what she did.”
“Isn’t that great? What a pretty dog.” Sylvia bent over to stroke Chloe’s fluffy head. “What a well-behaved dog. Good girl, Chloe.”
“We’re going to add Newman in,” Fiona announced.
“Oh my God.”
“Lissy, don’t tense up. Stay relaxed. Newman won’t react to her until I allow it. You’re in charge. She depends on you. Correct firmly, quickly and as necessary.”
With Newman by her side, Fiona walked across Chloe’s eye line. The Pom went ballistic.
“Correct,” Fiona ordered. “Firmly, Lissy,” she added when her flustered client faltered. “No, don’t pick her up. Like this. Chloe, stop! Stop!” Fiona repeated, making eye contact, pointing sharply.
Chloe subsided with a few grumbles.
“Newman’s no threat. Obviously,” Fiona added as the Lab sat placidly. “You need to keep relaxed and remain in charge—and be firm when she’s exhibiting unsocial behavior.”
“He’s so much bigger. She’s scared.”
“Yes, she’s scared and she’s stressed—and so are you. You have to relax, let her relax. She’ll see there’s nothing to be afraid of.” At Fiona’s hand signal, Newman lay down, sighed a little.
“You said there was a park near you, and several people take their dogs there.”
“Yes. I stopped taking Chloe because she’d just get upset.”
“It’d be nice to be able to take her, so she could have playmates, make friends.”
“Nobody likes her,” Lissy whispered. “It hurts her feelings.”
“Nobody likes a bully, Lissy. But people, especially dog people, generally enjoy a well-behaved dog. And one as pretty and smart as Chloe could make a lot of friends. You’d like that for her?”
“I really would.”
“When’s the last time you took her to the park?”
“Oh gosh, it’s been three or four months. There was this little incident. Really she barely broke the skin—barely—but Harry and I felt it best not to take her back.”
“I think you can give it another try.”
“Really? But—”
“Take a look.” Fiona held a finger up first. “Don’t overreact. Stay calm—keep your voice calm.”
Lissy glanced down, then pressed her free hand to her mouth as she watched Chloe sniff curiously at Newman.
“She’s checking him out,” Fiona said. “Her tail’s wagging, her ears are up. She’s not afraid. She’s interested. Stay calm,” she added, then signaled Newman.
When he stood, Chloe retreated, then froze as he lowered his head to sniff her in turn. Her tail wagged again.
“He gave her a kiss!”
“Newman likes pretty girls.”
“She’s making a friend.” Lissy’s eyes filled. “It’s silly. I know it’s silly to get so emotional.”
“No it’s not. Not a bit. You love her.”
“She’s never had a friend. It’s my fault.”
Mostly, Fiona thought, but things were never quite that simple. “Lissy, you brought her here because you love her and you want her to be happy. She has a friend now. How about we let her make a few more?”
“Are you sure?”
“Trust me.”
Lissy reached out, a bit dramatically, to clutch Fiona’s hand. “I really, really do.”
“Correct if necessary. Otherwise, just relax and let her deal.”
Fiona called the dogs off the porch, one at a time, to give Chloe a chance to acclimate. There were a few corrections, some retreat and advance, but before long they had what Fiona thought of as a sniff-and-wag party going on.
“I’ve never seen her like this. She’s not scared or being mean or trying to claw up my leg so I’ll pick her up.”
“Let’s give her a reward. Let her off the leash so she can run around with the boys and Oreo.”
Lissy bit her lip but obeyed.
“Go play,” Fiona ordered.
As the others ran off, bumping bodies, Chloe stood, shivering.
“She’s—”
“Wait,” Fiona interrupted. “Give her some time.”
Bogart raced back, gave Chloe a few swipes with his tongue. This time when he ran toward the pack, Chloe raced after him on her little designer booties.
“She’s playing.” Lissy murmured it as Chloe leaped to latch onto the frayed end of the mangled rope Bogart snagged. “She’s really playing with friends.”
Fiona draped an arm around Lissy’s shoulders. “Let’s sit on the porch and have some lemonade. You can watch her from there.”
“I—I should’ve brought my camera. I never thought...”
“Tell you what. Sit with Sylvia. I’ll go get mine and take some shots. I’ll e-mail them to you.”
“I’m going to cry.”
“You go right ahead.” Patting Lissy’s shoulder, Fiona led her to the porch.
Later, Sylvia rocked and sipped and watched Lissy drive away with Chloe. “That must be very satisfying.”
“And a little exhausting.”
“Well, you did give her two solid hours.”
“She—they—needed it. I think they’ll be all right. Lissy has to keep it up—and bring Harry on board. But I think she will. Our guys helped, a lot.” She lifted her foot and gave Peck’s rump a rub.
“Now that we’ve solved Chloe’s problem, what about yours?”
“I think that’s going to take more than a firm hand and some dog treats.”
“How mad is he?”
“Pretty mad.”
“How mad are you?”
“Undecided.”
Now that the dog party had ended, a trio of jewel-winged humming-birds dashed and darted along the flowering red currant that Starr had written about in the cursed article.
The blur of color should have charmed her, but it only served to remind Fiona of the harshness of the morning.
“I’m trying to stay calm, to be sensible—because otherwise I think, I really think I’d run screaming and never stop. And Simon’s angry I don’t run screaming. At least I think that’s part of it, and I’m not all ‘Oh, you’re so big and strong, please take care of me.’ Or something.”
Sylvia continued to rock, to sip. “It’s a wonder to me, it really is, Fee, how someone as insightful and sensitive as you can’t seem to understand how painfully hard this is on the rest of us.”
“Oh, Syl. I do! Of course I do. I wish—”
“No, honey, you don’t. Your solution is to block us out of some of the details, and your own fears. To make the decisions, on your own, about what to do and how to do it. And since I can’t completely disagree with that, I’m in a quandary.”
Guilt mingled with frustration, and irritation wrapped them with a frayed bow. “I don’t block you out.”
“Not often. You are a sensible woman, and you’re justifiably proud of your ability to take care of yourself and deal with your own problems. I’m proud of you. But I worry that your need to do that will box you into believing you have to do that, always. You have an easier time giving help than asking for it.”
“Maybe I do. Maybe. But honestly, Syl, I didn’t think telling Simon or you, or anyone, about that damn reporter was an issue. Was a thing. It happened, I dealt with it. Telling you wouldn’t have stopped her from writing the article.”
“No, but telling us would have prepared us for it.”
“All right.” Tired, next to defeated, Fiona pressed her fingers to her eyes. “All right.”