Page 80 of Puppy Christmas

She stopped Patrick before he went any further. Her state of relaxation was no longer his concern. “I didn’t invite you over here to argue, so let’s please talk about something else.” She handed him a plastic box with the Christmas supplies and a request that he stack it in the corner. “In fact, I only wanted to see you so I could—”

The doorbell rang before she could finish her sentence, which was just as well, since it wasn’t much of an ending. She’d searched through the entire house in hopes of finding something of his she could return, but to no avail. There wasn’t so much as a toothbrush in the bathroom she could pretend to give back to him. Despite seeing each other for five months, he’d made no lasting imprint on either her home or her heart. The best she could come up with was a few questions about auditory disorders as it related to service dog training, but they sounded feeble even to her own ears.

“Are you expecting someone?” Patrick asked.

“I don’t think so,” she lied and moved to open the door. “Maybe it’s just carolers.”

As planned, Helen stood on the threshold, looking fit to slay any number of hearts. The other woman always looked adorably put together, but she’d outdone herself in a jersey dress over woolen tights with boots that reached just above her knee. She even wore a pair of those cute little boot ruffles to draw attention to her thighs. A little overdressed for just stopping by, perhaps, but Lila doubted Patrick would notice. He’d never been one to go in for heavy compliments when it came to female attire.

“So sorry I’m dropping in on you like this,” Helen said, sticking to the script they’d decided on ahead of time. She lifted a bottle of wine with a red bow wrapped around it along with a plate of her cookies. “But I’m doing my holiday rounds and hoped you might be in. Oh, dear. It looks like you have company. Should I come back at a better time?”

Helen proved herself to be a much better liar than Lila would ever be. She couldn’t help being impressed by the ease with which Helen got in the door without so much as a blush or moment of hesitation.

“It’s no problem. This is just my friend Patrick. Patrick, this is Helen Griswold and her sons, Byron and Neil.” For a brief, horrified moment, Lila was afraid she was going to forget which child was which, but she’d underestimated herself. Byron lived up to his namesake with a scowl and a look of distaste at all the frills and furbelows that filled the house. Neil, the younger of the two, was practically vibrating with excitement over the promised visit with canines.

“Where are the puppies?” Byron asked with a heavy note of suspicion. “Mom—you said there’d be puppies. Youpromised.”

Helen coughed, a sound Lila took as her cue to act.

“Oh, did you want to see the animals?” she asked, feigning innocence. “I can take you back to meet them. In fact, they’re in desperate need of attention. I’ve been working so much lately, I haven’t had time to play with them nearly enough. All nine could use some love.”

“Nine?” Neil echoed.

“No one has nine puppies,” Byron said, still suspicious but visibly thawing.

“I do.” She accepted Helen’s coat before having two smaller, damp ones cast unceremoniously into her arms. “Um, I’ll just put these away. Do you need—?”

“To teach these children some manners? Obviously. I’m so sorry… Patrick, is it? They aren’t normally like this.” Helen paused and released a trill of laughter. “Actually, they’realwayslike this, but don’t worry. Lila knows how to handle them.”

“She does?” Patrick asked. Catching Lila’s eye, he amended his statement, “I mean, she does. Of course. Can I, uh, help you with those—?”

“Cookies? Yes, please. You can even eat some, but the wine is supposed to be a gift. Not very imaginative, I know, but everyone loves alcohol.” She turned to Byron and Neil with a firm look. “You can go with Princess Lila to see the puppies, but make sure you mind her, okay? It’s not too late to cancel Christmas.”

“Mom!” Byron cried.

“It’s written in the rulebook.” Helen shrugged. She looked up at Patrick through playful hazel eyes, and Lila had the benefit of seeing her ex-boyfriend blink as though dazzled. Either that, or he was dazed. Lila was pleased with both options. It would do this man a world of good to get knocked off his high horse for a change. “Isn’t that so, Patrick? You have up until the day before to put in a request for a cancellation, don’t you?”

“Er, yes. You just need twenty-four hours’ notice, I believe.”

“See?” Helen said triumphantly. “And Patrick is a doctor, so he knows what he’s talking about.”

That position held enough power over the boys to awe them into temporary silence. Sensing an opportunity, Lila smiled down at them. “Would you like to go see the puppies now? They’re just through the door in the kitchen. That is, if you two don’t mind…”

Helen had enough presence of mind to wait for Patrick to decide. It took him all of three seconds to come to the conclusion that eating cookies with Helen Griswold was about fifty times more appealing than hanging out with Lila in any capacity.

“Don’t worry on my account,” Patrick said. “I’m sure Helen and I can entertain ourselves for a few minutes.”

Unable to suppress a smile, Lila turned away and motioned the boys to move in the direction of the kennel. She lingered just long enough to hear Helen ask Patrick how he felt about chocolate chips before following the boys out. Helen would know how to handle Patrick from here—much better than she’d ever done, at any rate.

They’d agreed that thirty minutes was ideal for a child-free introductory tête-à-tête, so Lila set the alarm on her phone to remind her when the time was up and surveyed the mountain of a task she’d undertaken. The puppies were easy enough, of course, all nine of them jumping and squirming with delight at the sight of newcomers into their domain. One snap of her dog-training clicker would have them in order within seconds.

The children, however, were another story. Byron stood a few yards ahead of her, appraising the animals with a keen eye and a plastic cutlass in one hand. It was on the tip of Lila’s tongue to demand an explanation of how he’d managed to smuggle it past his mother when Neil started running up and down the main aisle at a speed that probably could have won him Olympic gold medals.

Sweet, reserved Emily was nothing compared to these boys. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, after all.

“Puuupppppies!” Neil cried, his hands out to either side as he ran. His fingertips grazed ears and paws and, in the case of the golden retrievers in the corner, a pair of enthusiastic tongues. “So many puuupppppies!”

Byron showed every sign of following him with—one would assume—his cutlass outstretched, so Lila decided to start there.