Jillian

away from the leash and was difficult to get down the stairs. She kept sitting down on the walk and Jillian kept thinking she’d get used to it, right?
“We need to talk to her to make her more comfortable.”
They both started saying “good dog” over and over and Adam went up to trees and lifted his leg to mime peeing.
“Pee-pee pee-pee, ha ha ha.”
Eventually, Crispy took a dump on the median. Jillian had forgotten to bring poop bags, so she looked around. She saw no one. “Come on,” she said and they walked a little faster. She needed to tire them both out so they’d go to sleep so she could work and then, when everything was in place, she could wake them up and they could all cuddle on the couch like she’d been hoping they would. She skipped and galloped to get her kid and the dog to romp. Crispy seemed happy, and even romped a little and wagged her tail in short, weird bursts. Jillian smiled at them both. They walked for twenty minutes, until Jillian’s feet were sore and Adam said he had to pee and Crispy started looking anxious.
When they got back, Jillian straightened out the pillows and blankets on the couch and turned on the TV. She tucked Adam into a little nest and gave him the remote.
“Take a little nap if you need to, I have to do the laundry.”
She put some peanut butter on the rawhide and used it to lure Crispy into the kitchen.
“Here’s your water and food,” she said, pointing to the bowls on the place mat.
She dropped the bone by the bowls.
Her bedroom was dark. Even with the shades up, it didn’t get much light. She picked up her bras first and tossed them into the bathtub, then picked up all the dirty clothes, separated out some things that still seemed clean, and took the rest of the pile to the bathroom and dumped it on the floor. She stripped the bed and laid the bottom sheet in the hallway. She went to Adam’s room, stripped his sheets, picked up his dirty clothes and dumped them on the sheet. She put all of her laundry from the floor and the hamper on the sheet pile, got the soap and fabric softener, then bundled up the sheet—like Santa, that was how she felt—and hauled it downstairs.
She didn’t separate the colors, just separated the clothes randomly into two machines and started them with extra soap. The clothes smelled a little musky. Back upstairs she opened her bedroom window and Adam’s, put sheets on both of their beds, made them up with the pillows and everything, tucked a stuffed animal under the sheets on Adam’s bed, picked up his toys from the floor and put them in his bin. She hung up the clothes she’d decided weren’t dirty. She took the bras from the tub and threw them into the hallway. She went and got the cleaner and the paper towels and the kitchen sponge and removed the film of hair and lint from the bathroom and polished the surfaces as well as she could. Then she dried the bathroom a little with paper towels, filled the sink with cold water and hand soap, and submerged her bras in it. She turned the fan on in the bathroom, threw away the paper towels, and dusted the surfaces in her room and Adam’s, then she ran the vacuum again.
By then it was time to change the laundry.
She came back upstairs, rinsed her bras, and hung them over the shower rod. She watered the two dry-looking plants in the kitchen and put the hot, dull-smelling plates back into the cabinets. The sun was going down, and she didn’t want to know where the dog was, not yet, not until everything was in place and she could enjoy it. She got an old blanket, folded it, and put it by the couch.
“That’s Crispy’s bed for now.”
She got hair bands and used them to hold the cabinets closed, like in Emily’s kitchen.
There was no juice in the refrigerator. She needed to go shopping.
She sat down next to Adam and they both called, “Crispy,” and Crispy walked up to them slowly, wagging her tail fast and slow at alternating speeds.
“Crispy!”
Wag . . . wag . . . wagwagwag.
“Good dog, come here, Crispy!”
They all played for a minute, then Crispy sat on her bed. Jillian put away the laundry and made a grocery list, and when she looked over at Adam and Crispy watching TV together, she thought she was going to start crying, she was so close to being able to sit with them and relax.
“Will you be a good girl?” asked Jillian.
Crispy looked from side to side.
“We’ll be right back, okay? Will you be a good girl?”
In the car, Jillian said, “We’ll need to get her a crate for when I’m at work, and I think she needs some fetch toys, but we can use an old sock for now. Tie it in a knot. We can use peanut butter for treats, too, to save money for now.”
Just talking out loud.
“What movie do you want to watch tonight, Adam?”
When they got back from the store, Jillian said, “One more thing before dinner and movies, okay?” and that’s when she sent the photo message to Megan.

PART 2


1
That dog, that silly little dog (and, but, not that it was Crispy’s fault) distracted her so much. The dog wasn’t in the car, not physically, but, you know, Crispy’s essence was in the car. The thought of Crispy, thinking about all the things Crispy needed. She was on the way to pick up a discounted crate from someone ten miles away, and the crate came with a pillow and it was in very good condition, according to the description online.
The crate would be forty, and she could go get bulk food at ALDI and