Mr. And Mrs. Wrong

Jack stepped back and the dog let out a yelp. He knelt and petted her. “Sorry, Beanie, but you’ve got to stay out from under my feet.” She looked up at him with big eyes that said he was forgiven, thumping her tail against the floor.

Her breed was indecipherable. She had the face of a hound, but her body seemed an amalgamation of hound and terrier. Black, shaggy hair covered all of her except her muzzle, which had turned gray with age.

Usually her hair drooped and covered her eyes, making him wonder how she could possibly see. Since today was a special occasion, he’d pinned it back with a pink bow-shaped barrette, an old one of Lucky’s from when her hair was long.

The dog wasn’t pretty, but she was the first pet he’d ever owned, and he liked the experience. Well, technically she belonged to Lucky, but Beanie didn’t understand that.

“The more time that dog spends with you, the more worthless she becomes,” Cal said. “Could she get any fatter?”

Beanie thumped her tail again, knowing they were talking about her. She seemed to smile.

“She doesn’t like dog food,” Jack explained.

“And why should she when you feed her junk all the time? Has Lucky seen her lately?”

“Not in a few weeks.”

“Oh, man, you’re going to be in big trouble.”

Jack made the dog lie down in front of the couch out of the way, then unpacked the new fan. He rechecked to make sure the power was off, then Cal helped him position the new unit and secure it.

“Did your grandfather ever consider moving away from here?” he asked, continuing their earlier conversation.

“Papa Sam?” Cal snorted. “Imagine a male version of Lucky, and that’s a pretty good description of my granddaddy. He thought the river was heaven. You couldn’t pry him out of here with a crowbar, even after he started having heart problems. He dropped dead right out there by the water.”

“I don’t understand what’s supposed to be so great about this place.”

“Me, neither, to tell you the truth. Leigh, Shannon and I used to hate coming out to visit because there wasn’t anything to do, but Lucky spent most of her time here. She would’ve lived with Papa Sam if our mom had let her. When he died, no one was surprised that he left the land and cabin to Lucky. She’s the only one who ever really appreciated them. And Mema was thrilled to move in with Mom and Dad.”

“I’ve tried to adjust, but there’s no damned space, and she has all these weird things she’s picked up and won’t throw away.”