Serenity Harbor

“Hey, Rika,” she said to the elegant cinnamon-colored standard poodle who came to investigate the newcomers to her domain.

Milo, she saw, did not look nervous around the dog. No surprise there. While he might be apprehensive about children and other humans, he had a deep and abiding love for anything furry or feathered.

“Milo, this is my friend, Paprika. She is McKenzie’s dog. Remember McKenzie? You met her the other day over by the lake.”

The boy nodded and reached a hand out to pet the dog. He smiled a little when his fingertips found the texture of her curly, wiry hair.

“She feels funny, doesn’t she? Poodles don’t have hair like other dogs, you know, the long, sheddy sort. They were originally water dogs and the curly hair helps them dry off faster. Just like in people, curly hair has to do with genetics and the shape of the hair shaft opening.”

“Do you really think he understands anything about genetics or hair shafts?”

She glanced over to find Linda Fremont watching her from beside the counter, wearing her usual sour expression. She tried reminding herself to be patient with Linda. The woman had things tough after her husband died young. She had raised Samantha while running a small business by herself.

Despite her gruff exterior, she had also been as kind as her nature would allow toward Katrina at a time when other parents in town hadn’t been nearly as welcoming. Because of that, Kat generally gained a lot of practice biting her tongue around her.