Page 116 of Maverick

I take a deep breath, considering how to explain this to a child. "I don't know where their mommy is, sweetie," I say gently. "Sometimes the mommies are brought to the shelter too, but this time, the puppies were alone."

Her brow furrows as she processes this information. "Why did they brunged them to you?" she asks, stumbling slightly over the words.

My heart swells with a mix of pride and sadness. "Because they knew I would take good care of them," I reply, trying to keep my voice steady.

Mia thinks about this for a moment, her little face scrunched up in concentration. Then she nods, seeming to accept my answer. "My tummy mommy brunged me to the hospital," she says matter-of-factly. "And that's where Mommy found me. It's good."

I'm struck by the simple wisdom in her words, the acceptance of her own story. I smile at her, feeling a surge of affection for this brave little girl. "That's right, sweetie," I say softly. "And now you have a family that loves you very much, just like these puppies will."

"We keep them kay?" she says. It's a question, but it's really not. It's a statement of fact, and I'm trying to figure out how to explain to her that dogs are a big commitment when I catch all the nodding heads around me. Every single adult in the room close enough to hear her is all in.

"Um…puppies are a lot of responsibility. They're going to need to stay together, and be fed every two hours for a few weeks yet, then they get busy, and destructive, and loud."

They're all still nodding.

"You guys are starting to creep me out. This is way too easy. Just like that, you're keeping them?"

More nods.

"Well, alright then. I guess we're keeping the puppies." I don’t expect them to actually follow through. They’re really cute right now, but soon, they’ll be chewing on everything, peeing on the floor, and generally being destructive little shits.

Finally, they all get back to what they're doing. I stand and move into the dining room, picking up a plate to serve myself some food. There are about twenty containers covering the table, a mix of Chinese, Thai, and Indian. I help myself to some Pad Thai and Satay, and ease into a chair. God, it's good.

Becca drops into a chair next to me and props her chin on her hand as she stares at the spread. "You know, I've been a part of this family for over a year, and I still find this shit overwhelming. Why so much food? Why? Why not just pick one place?"

"It is a lot."

"Yeah," she says glumly.

"You're not hungry?"

She snorts and shakes her head. "I had two fucking plates. That's the problem. They order all the best stuff from all the best places and I want it all!"

"I get that. Pretty sure that Ginger Beef over there is going in my tummy."

She laughs and turns to face me lifting one foot onto the chair. "How are you doing? Are you a giant ball of rage, ready to hunt down whatever asshole dumped those puppies."

"I was," I admit, resting my fork on my plate. "But I'm mostly over it."

Her eyebrows fly up. "Seriously? Already? I'd still be looking for someone to punch. Honestly, I'm feeling a little ragey myself."

"I run a rescue Becca. It happens. More than I'd like. But the puppies are okay, they're safe and warm and have full tummies, so I'm going to call that a win and not obsess over it."

"That's a very healthy, balanced way to look at it. But I don't buy it. If the dude that dumped them was right here in front of you, would you really just send him on his way?"

"I'd kick him in the balls so hard, he'd feel it for a year."

Becca throws back her head, laughing. She's got the kind of laugh that makes everyone around her happy. It's big, and carefree, and completely in your face.

I like it.

"That's more like it. I couldn't wrap my head around a woman who punches as hard as you do being all peaceable."

"I'm mostly peaceable. Unless provoked."

"Fair. Most people find me really fucking provoking. I don't mind."

"You are provoking. Is it a choice, or does it come naturally to you?"