Page 11 of No More Hiding

“Back to the dog,” his mother said.

He sighed. “I don’t need a dog,” he argued.

“Too bad. I already bought it.”

“What?” he asked. His father and brother started to laugh.

“You heard me. Someone at work had a litter of boxers. They were completely adorable. I couldn’t resist. You need companionship whether you want to admit it or not. I’m your mother and I know these things. Don’t argue with me.”

He was too stunned to do that. It was hard to argue that he couldn’t have a dog. He had a fenced-in yard and plenty of room. He worked from home. He barely left.

“It seems I can’t,” he said.

His mother looked back at his father and he could read what they were saying. He wasn’t stupid. Hecouldargue but decided not to.

Maybe his mother was right. He needed something and how hard could it be to have a dog if he was home with it anyway?

“I’ll be picking her up next Saturday and will drop her off.”

“Her?” he asked.

“It was the last of the litter. She’ll be ten weeks old then. She was the runt.”

“Giving Brent the leftovers,” Tyler said. “That’s perfect.”

He tipped his beer back. “It gives me a week to figure things out at least.”

“Exactly,” his mother said.

“What would you have done if I told you no, absolutely not?” he asked.

“I knew you wouldn’t,” she said softly. “Maureen told me you needed a dog.”

He blinked a few times and let it go. He knew his mother dreamed of Maureen often, she’d told them enough. He’d never admitted that he did too.

It was just too damn hard and it was one thing that he wanted to keep for himself.

4

Future Happiness

Vivian parked her SUV and grabbed her reusable grocery bags, then walked into the store. She’d had a routine that she liked to follow and groceries on Sunday night was part of that.

The store was fairly empty of people by then and she could get in and out without much fuss.

She put her bags in the carts she’d snatched by the door and started to walk through the produce section. Some of it was picked over, but that was fine with her. She wasn’t fussy in that she had to buy something specific each week but rather what looked good.

She picked up some granola and dried fruit to have in the shop. It was best to have a few healthy choices since Jenna had been complaining about her weight again, yet she always wanted a snack.

It was so hard to get the younger woman to understand that the choices you make in life—even as simple as food—would control your future happiness.

Jenna wasn’t heavy, but she had curves and the youthful metabolism seemed to be diminishing like daylight in the winter.

Vivian would like to say she had to watch her weight in life, but she never did. Maybe it was because her mother had drilled into her head that people were always watching and you should look your best even if you don’t act it.

She’d thought that was a funny statement for years but then realized how true it was. Her parents were proof of that. They always looked good, but it sure the hell didn’t match their behavior.

She browsed through the meat section and nodded to a few people as she turned down the cereal aisle.