Page 15 of No More Hiding

“I might not either,” he said, the stress of this situation already bubbling acid in his gut. He had to be nuts to agree to this.

“You’ll do fine,” his mother said. “You can learn from each other. The most pressing thing you need to figure out is a name for her.”

“I’m sure something will come to me,” he said.

“It probably will. Now unless you need anything else from me, I’m going home. Luckily Karen lives between you and me so I only had to drive forty minutes with the puppy, but I’m beat.”

Not what he wanted to hear. “Wish me luck.”

She kissed his cheek. “You can do anything you put your mind to. I’m sure you’ll both be fast friends soon enough.”

Later that night though, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be friends with anyone.

The puppy had napped on and off all day. He’d spent more time taking her out whenever she stood up and started to walk around. He should have just put a chair in the backyard and stayed there for as much as he was going in and out.

They’d had one accident and he’d take it as a win and it was right by the door. Not on the piddle paddle he’d left there either and he decided they were going to be more trouble than they were worth.

But now he was in bed and the puppy was on the floor on her bed. Or should be, but she wasn’t staying.

She was pacing around the room, her nails on the wood floors driving him nuts. When she wasn’t pacing she was trying to get on his bed.

She’d put her paws up twice and tried to jump once but couldn’t make it and ended up going spread eagle when she landed.

He shouldn’t have laughed at her, but he did and that only caused her to whine louder.

It’d been over an hour and she wasn’t letting up. Pretty soon he was going to be whining right along with her.

“What do you want?” he asked, leaning over the side of the bed.

She immediately started to lick his hand, then all but crawl up his arm.

He couldn’t sleep leaning over this way and he was exhausted.

He finally caved and picked the puppy up and put her on the bottom of the bed.

She didn’t stay. Of course she didn’t. But he wasn’t letting her sleep on the pillow she was trying to flop down on either.

They came to an understanding with her plastered against his side, the puppy’s soft snoring lulling him to sleep.

“You need to name her.”

He was dreaming. He knew he was. It was the only way he could talk to his sister now. The first time he dreamed of her, he’d been sixteen and it was a month after she’d died. He thought he was going to piss the bed when he woke up because it’d felt so real. Now, he was used to it and actually looked forward to these visits.

Were they dreams? Was it his sister’s soul still hovering around earth and watching him and his family? He wasn’t so sure he wanted it to be that though.

She was the personality of a sixteen-year-old he remembered, not the one that died of rare bone cancer that she fought for two years.

Over the years, she aged like he did, sort of. Her face was more mature, but she had no wrinkles, no gray hair to be found. Her hairstyle was the same prior to chemo, long and straight down the middle of her back. But the youthful features were more of a woman’s.

Maybe it was easy to see because they were twins.

“You still like to tell me what to do,” he said to Maureen.

“You love it when I boss you around. You always did.”

He wasn’t so sure any guy liked to be bossed around by a sibling. “Hardly,” he said.

“She is awfully cute. Mom is right—you need this in your life.”