Page 10 of Hogging the Hunk
“How about we look for one?”
She squealed. “Really? You’d let me get my own pet?”
“They’re an enormous responsibility, you know. Even a goldfish or a gerbil. Their life is literally in your hands.”
“I know.” Ellie pushed herself off the porch railing and bounced on her toes. “They have to be fed and watered.”
“And don’t forget they poop. A lot. All of them.”
“I know.” Her voice was breathy from excitement. “I’ll figure it all out.”
Pretending to deliberate, I twisted my mouth and furrowed my brow. “Alright. If you think you’re responsible enough…”
“I am!” She shrieked so loud my eardrums almost burst. “You can trust me.”
“Alright, alright. We’ll start looking around for a pet for you.”
Hopping around the deck, her happiness bubbled over. She screamed. She laughed. She hugged me as hard as she could. Shaking my head as I grabbed our dinner and headed for the outdoor table, Ellie maneuvered in front of me, her countenance suddenly serious as she poked a finger into my chest.
“You’re going to keep to your word, right, Dad?”
“Of course.” Setting down the shish kabobs, I mimed being stabbed in the heart with the grilling tongs. “What kind of man do you think I am?”
“A silver-tongued, two-faced, no-good snake. At least that’s what Mom called you. Only once, though, when she was mad at you.”
The sting of her honesty was drowned out by how unexpected it was. I laughed instead. “That’s the sort of man I used to be. Not any more, though.”
Ellie followed me inside. She grabbed plates and silverware while I dispensed ice and water into glasses for the both of us. Balancing the plates in her hand to open the back door, Ellie continued to prod. “I’m going to need this to be more binding.”
“What are you thinking? I’m not sure you can afford a lawyer to draft up anything binding.”
“Will you pinkie swear?” She extended her hand, with her pinkie in a hook, stalling in the open door so there was no way around her.
“People do that nowadays?”
“I read it in a book once and it seemed like a good way to impress upon you the importance of the promise you’re making.”
“Alright.” I freed up a hand by setting a glass on the nearest counter and hooked my pinkie around hers. My thick fingers dwarfed hers, though the weight of our binding agreement was tangible.
Looking me in the eye, she said, “You promise that you’ll find me a pet? And not a lame one—no goldfish.”
I suppressed the laughter that was pushing up my throat. This was serious to Ellie, and I wouldn’t wound her by making light of it. “No goldfish.”
“And no evil stepmother?”
My mouth opened the way it was supposed to, in order to speak, yet nothing intelligible made it past my vocal cords. As I considered how to answer, another flash of Beckett flooded my mind. Why, I couldn’t definitively say. Imaginary Beckett gave me another eager thumbs up and I interpreted my brain’s convoluted decision-making skills as her approval to Ellie’s demand.
A crash outside interrupted Ellie’s bargaining. Pushing past Ellie, I saw an enormous raccoon struggling to clamber its way onto the table after the chair it was using tipped over.
“Aww!” Ellie squealed. “Look at its face! It’s so cute!”
The racoon paused for a fraction of a second. Once it recovered, I swear I saw it grin at me with glinting teeth. Reaching its grubby paw for our dinner, still steaming after coming off the grill, I lunged for the plate. Too slow, the raccoon snatched a stick of meat and veggies, stuck it in its mouth, and ran with surprising speed for the fence.
Grabbing the plates from Ellie’s hands, I threw them in quick succession like assault frisbees. The first crashed into the deck railing and shattered. The second barely made it halfway across the yard before landing and rolling pathetically in the grass. Unimpressed with my defensive skills, the raccoon scaled up and over the fence, leaving the scene of the crime with a conniving trill that sounded a lot like a triumphant laugh at my expense.
Surveying the damage, I put my hands on my hips. “See what I mean? This is also the kind of stuff you have to be prepared for with a pet.”
“You chucking dishes at it?”