“Let’s get you home,” I told him. “I bet somebody is missing you.”
Sunshine’s house was a bungalow that reminded me of Noah’s place, and I knocked on the door. An older woman with long white hair answered the door. “What?”
Did she not see that I was holding her dog? “I found Sunshine here on the side of the road.”
She shaded her eyes and stepped forward. “I didn’t realize that he’d gotten out. How were you able to carry him? Sunshine doesn’t like strangers.”
“He seems to like me.” I was good with difficult dogs. We had an understanding. The understanding was that I would ply them with treats if they made a minimal effort to do what I wanted. It had worked out well for me so far.
“I suppose you better come inside,” she said with a grimace, and I followed her in. A real curmudgeon, as my mom would say. “I’m Gladys Kravitch.”
“Juliet Nolan,” I responded.
“You out wandering the neighborhood looking for lost dogs?” She closed the front door once I’d stepped inside.
“I was just up the road at Noah Douglas’s house, helping out with Magnus.” I lifted his leash, in case she hadn’t noticed him, either.
She fixed her annoyed gaze on the dog, and Magnus hid behind my legs. “Bah. The movie star.” She said the words with disgust, the same way I’d say the spinach and kale salad.
“This way.” Magnus followed us as she led me down a narrow hallway into her living room, and it struck me how sparse it was. My own grandmother had died years ago, but I remembered her house being full of tchotchkes and knickknacks. While there was definitely a grandma vibe to the decor, with heavy burgundy drapes, a lace doily on the coffee table, and older oak furniture, there were no mementos out. No collectibles or walls full of pictures. There was, in fact, only one picture.
“Is this you and your husband?” I asked.
“Yes.” She paused. “Was. Was my husband.”
“I’m so sorry. When did he pass?”
“Last year.” I heard the way her voice caught. “My Bruce and I were married for forty-seven years.” She sat down on the couch and pointed to a stuffed, quilted armchair and said, “Sit. There.” Like I was one of the dogs.
I just did what she told me. It was easier. I usually dealt well with prickly people, because I realized that everyone had more stuff going on in their lives than they usually cared to admit, so it was easy to ignore the small, offensive things. I put Sunshine down, but he immediately turned around and tried to get back up in my lap, so I let him.
“You expecting a reward?”
“No! I just wanted to bring Sunshine home.”
She pointed to the writing on my polo shirt. “Waggin’ Wheels?”
“It’s my company,” I told her proudly. “A mobile dog-grooming service.”
“Do you ever do dog sitting?”
Huh. I’d never considered that. Maybe it would be a good idea for me to include more services beyond grooming. It could mean more clients. “I haven’t, but I guess I could. Why?”
She pointed toward the hallway, and it was then that I noticed a large suitcase. “My fool sister broke both her legs when she was taking down her Christmas lights. I’m her only living relative, and I have to fly out to Montana to look after her. Her condo complex doesn’t allow any pets, so I need someone to take care of Sunshine. He already seems to like you.”
“I’d love to, but I can’t take him home with me. My apartment doesn’t allow dogs, either.”
“Stay here. I have a guest room.”
“Here?” I asked, surprised by how sudden this all felt. “But you don’t even know me.”
“I was going to call a service and have them send a stranger over that I’d make the same offer to. How is this any different? At least this way I already know that Sunshine won’t bite you, which gives you a leg up over anyone else. I’d need you to be here for two weeks. I can pay you fifteen hundred dollars. Half now, half when I get back.”
I didn’t even know what to charge her, or if that was fair or maybe even too much. I didn’t want to take advantage of her. “If you’re on a limited income, you don’t have to—”
She cut me off. “I can take care of myself just fine. My Bruce made sure of that.”
I felt like I was going to insult her if I refused or