My Boyfriends' Dogs Read Free

bunch of wrinkles around his collar. I stare into the plump white terrier’s eyes and see the eyes of his master. Green eyes.
    â€œI had a dog just like this when I was a boy,” Louie says, reaching over to pet Adam. “Pure mutt. He loved everybody he met. And everybody sure loved him.”
    â€œTell me about it,” I mutter, thinking, remembering.
    Louie leans back in his chair and folds his arms across his chest. “No, you tell me about it. How’d that be?”

LOUIE OF ST. LOUIE
    LOUIE TRIES TO GET COMFORTABLE as he studies the nice-looking girl in the fancy gown and waits for her to tell them her story. He should have known the second he heard the tap on the door that this was going to be a long night at Louie of St. Louie’s.
    Truth is, he nearly went on up to bed right before closing time. Rune isn’t the best cook Louie ever had, not by a long shot, but the big guy can handle cleanup and closing. They only had one customer after dinner hours, and that was just Colt. The kid has been stopping by almost every night for a couple of months, always for a tall glass of apple juice and the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. But he never stayed past closing.
    Louie’s been living above the café for almost ten years, ever since his Lily passed. He hasn’t missed the old house either, not without Lily in it. It wasn’t the same house. That’s all. And with the boys grown, with grown boys of their own living clear across the country, he doesn’t need but the three rooms upstairs.
    But he didn’t go up to bed tonight. Since the cancer first reached his bones, sleep hasn’t been something Louie looks forward to. He feels it in his bones that it won’t be too long now before he’ll be with his Lily again. That’ll be all right.
    Then he heard that knocking and opened the door. Finding a wet gal dressed like a princess standing on the threshold was just about the last thing he expected. But there she was. And here she is.
    Here they all are.
    â€œWe are all ears, Ms. Bailey Daley,” he tells the pretty young girl wrapped in the green sweater. “You want Rune to fetch you something to eat while you tell us your story?”
    â€œKitchen’s closed!” Rune shouts back.
    Louie worries that Rune will give himself an ulcer one day . . . or somebody else. How that man stays married to his fine wife is one of life’s great mysteries. “Now, now, Rune. We got bread and cold cuts, don’t we?”
    The girl reaches across the table and touches Louie’s hand. Her hand is warm now, at least. The last strand of her coal black hair escapes from the fancy curls she had plastered to her head when she walked in. Now the curls bounce around her face like coils of fine black licorice. She reminds Louie of his granddaughter, Jason’s girl.
    â€œI’m not hungry, Louie. Really. Thanks, though.” She turns toward the kitchen. “Thank you too, Rune!”
    She’s something, this little gal in her fancy gown.
    â€œI’m not sure where to start,” she admits, shaking her hair so it falls around her shoulders, covering the green sweater.
    Colt moves his chair in closer so he can see her face. Louie figures the young fella wants to hear this as much as he does.
    â€œHow about starting at the beginning?” Louie suggests.
    â€œThe beginning, huh?” Bailey sighs. She reaches down and strokes the old white mutt at her feet. “I guess that means I start with you, doesn’t it, boy?”
    â€œAdam, right?” Colt asks.
    â€œRight.” The girl settles back into her chair in a relaxed way she hasn’t done since walking into Louie’s. “It all started with Adam.”

the first fall

adam

1
    They say there’s a line that crosses the middle of the whole universe. They say you can’t see that line. But if you step over it, if you cross it, there’s no going back.
    I crossed that