Home Is Where Your Bark Is

Chapter 1

If any two small humans or lone out-of-control canine were capable of climbing walls, Jenna Dunning’s young nephews and their new border collie fit the bill. The trio raced around the dining room, circling the handcrafted rustic table for eight that Jenna’s sister had special ordered from northern Wisconsin. Train whistles in hand, the boys pretended to blow on them as they ran. At two and a half and nearly four, neither of them had the coordination to make the whistles sound while running. Instead, they yelled “Toot-toot!” at the top of their lungs while the dog yipped. As much as Monica—Jenna’s younger sister—wished to believe otherwise, the only calm thing about her home was the interior design throughout.

Suspecting the dog had transitioned from run-of-the-mill hyper to completely overstimulated, Jenna called out for the boys to stop, but they ignored her, immersed in their game of make-believe. They were pretending to be trains. Sam, the older of the two, was Thomas, while Joseph, the younger, was Toby.

For the life of her, Jenna couldn’t keep straight which was the current favorite of several names in consideration for the dog, so she’d simply referred to him as “the dog” all evening. The boys had argued over calling him a handful of Thomas the Tank Engine characters’ names, while the names Monica proposed had been rejected by both the boys and her husband. Jenna was determined to stay out of it.

The boys were in the throes of their nightly after-dinner adrenaline rush, and Jenna was in no doubt about the game ending with one or both of them in tears—which was the opposite of what her sister needed tonight. Five minutes ago, Monica had stepped out onto the patio to call one of the preschool moms who had offered to help out tomorrow. With as much as Monica had on her plate, Jenna didn’t want her to come back inside to a major meltdown.

At his faster pace, the high-energy dog was triple lapping the boys, which in a sense was progress. Running in circles with his new people was a better way to get his energy out than the destructive chewing, scent marking, and occasional blanket shredding his first couple weeks here.

“Stop your feet!” Jenna yelled when the boys ignored her second request to stop running. As she stepped into their path, Sam nearly bowled her over.

Joseph, with a natural athleticism his older brother lacked, veered sideways, dodging her, and zoomed out the open doorway toward the hearth room. “No, no, Gordon, no, no!”

The dog eyed Jenna warily as he rounded the corner next. Without losing his stride, he bounded onto the table in an effortless leap. Pushing off, he landed on the far side of the room and gave his beautiful black-and-white coat a shake before zooming off after Joseph.

Jenna swore under her breath as she spied the scuffs from his claws that trailed across the center of the table. Monica and Stuart had paid more for this table than Jenna had paid for her older model Toyota Tacoma when she bought it last year.

“What is it, Auntie Jenna?” Sam’s thin brows furrowed together as he raised up on his toes to peer at the table.

Jenna attempted to smooth out the scratches with her finger, but they were too deep. “I didn’t think about him jumping like that.” Concern populated Sam’s expression, and Jenna smoothed a hand down his silky-smooth warm-brown hair. It was the same shade as Jenna’s—her sister’s, too, if it weren’t for the highlights.

Given that the dog was now racing around the living room with Joseph, Jenna recognized that another essential training moment was lost. If she ran in and scolded him now, he wouldn’t understand what he was being scolded for. Meanwhile, Sam was on the verge of tears. How many times in the last week had his mom warned that the dog was on his last straw?

In the four weeks he’d been here, the dog had racked up a costly set of repairs. An arm of her sister’s adored linen sofa had been shredded in a nanosecond while the boys were watching TV, dozens of toys had been chomped including a few coveted trains, the legs of three chairs had been partially mauled, and one monitor had been knocked over while Monica watched dog training videos and a dog on-screen had barked.

Down the hall of the 3,200-square-foot Tudor-revival home, the patio door opened and closed as Monica stepped inside. Here it was, the one more thing her fifteen-month-younger sister was going to have to face tonight. At first glimpse, it’d be easy to think Monica had it all. She was a stay-at-home parent pregnant with her third child, married to a successful radiologist, and living in a gorgeous century-old home in Evanston, one of Chicagoland’s most popular towns.

Jenna still wasn’t sure if chaos came looking for her sister, or if it was the other way around. All she knew was that half of her own free time got swept away helping Monica be Monica. Thankfully, the parts of this that awarded Jenna endless cuddles with her nephews made helping worth it.

When Monica rounded the corner, phone in hand, it was obvious she’d been crying, and Jenna was reminded of the terrifying possibility that the lump her sister had discovered in her left breast could be cancer. Tomorrow, she was going in for a biopsy. Considering their mother had died at thirty-six after surrendering to a three-year hellish battle with breast cancer, this was a fear both sisters carried out of childhood. Genetic testing in their twenties revealed that Monica carried the gene that increased her likelihood of breast cancer, while Jenna had won the genetic lottery and didn’t. Monica got mammograms yearly, while Jenna got to delay that awhile longer.

Monica’s eyes widened as she walked in, clearly reading the energy in the room. “What is it?”

“Don’t take him back, Mommy. Please!” With an expression lined with more anxiousness than any four-year-old’s should be, Sam tugged on his mom’s tight-fitting yoga tank that perfectly complemented her rounded baby belly, repeating his demand. When his mom’s attention remained locked on his aunt, Sam switched tactics and dashed off into the hearth room after the dog. “Axel, no more jumping on the table. You have to promise!”

Axel. That was Sam’s most recent favorite Thomas-derived name.

As she walked up for a closer look, Monica clamped a hand over her mouth. “Not my table !”

“I didn’t realize he could jump like that.” There was a guilty tone to Jenna’s words that didn’t need to be there. It wasn’t her fault the dog had jumped on the table. Then again, he’d jumped up there to avoid her. One of the things this month had shown was that he neither trusted nor cared for adults. His saving grace—though at times it was debatable he had one—was the way he’d bonded with the boys. “I’m sure it’ll buff out, Monica. I’ll help you my next day off.”

When Monica looked up, her gaze was resolute. “Could you drag out some books? I need to talk to Stuart.”

“I doubt they’re in the space to sit still for books right now.”

“Put Thomas on then.” This was breaking Monica’s own no-electronics-after-dinner rule. “I really need five minutes alone with Stuart with no catastrophes. There’s a bully stick in the pantry,” she added. “Two, actually. If the dog’s still hyper after he finishes the first, then go ahead and give him the second.”

Jenna had no delusions as to what this talk was about. Her sister had already been fed up with the dog before finding the lump two nights ago. Plus, she’d stopped calling him by whatever name she’d been advocating for— Racer, that’s it —and was referring to him as “the dog” with a little punch to “the.”

As was typical, Monica read Jenna’s thoughts even though she didn’t voice them. “I know what you’re thinking, and I can’t take the judgment right now. I’m as worn down as a person can possibly be.”

“I know you are, and I can be sorry for the dog without judging you.”

“Would you want him?”

Surely this last bit was rhetorical. No matter how dizzyingly chaotic this month had been, she couldn’t have forgotten Jenna’s reaction to Monica’s announcement that she’d adopted a high-energy dog while baby number three was on the way. It took Jenna’s best effort not to bring this up. Impulsive as Monica could be, she needed a pass right now. She was emotionally and physically spent. It showed in the dark circles under her eyes and the fact that she hadn’t showered in three days.

Maybe Jenna worked two jobs to make ends meet, but she got to go home at the end of her long days and sleep the whole night through. For the most part, she woke up restored and ready to face another day head on. Monica, on the other hand, hadn’t had an uninterrupted night’s sleep in four years. “Go. Have your talk. I’ve got the boys.”

Tears flooding her eyes, Monica headed off without a thanks. Not that Jenna expected one. Thank-you’s from Monica were like rain in the desert. You couldn’t count on them often, but when they came, they were heartfelt and beautiful.

After telling the boys they could watch Thomas drive away. After you leave, I’ll make something up. I’ll tell them the dog is going to a sleepover next door or something. I’ll run him out five minutes behind you. Tomorrow, I’ll find a way to tell them he’s not coming back. I hate cats, but at this point, if I have to bribe them with a kitten, I will.”

When Jenna’s mouth gaped open, he held up a finger. “Seriously, Jenna, we can’t even get him crated anymore. Last time we tried, it was a fiasco. He growled at me twice, bared teeth and all. And not having him crated while we’re gone isn’t an option. You’ve seen what he’s destroyed when we’re in the next room.”

Jenna shook her head. Stuart’s skirting the truth with the boys had a yucky feel, even if it saved them from a traumatic fallout tonight.

Proving he knew her as well as she knew him, he added in the same low whisper, “So, it’s okay to fabricate detailed intricacies about Santa, the tooth fairy, and the Easter Bunny, but I can’t stretch the truth the night before I find out if my wife has cancer?”

This was like a punch to the gut. Jenna took a long breath. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

Stuart crossed around the island and pulled her into a sideways hug that somehow ended up with his shoulder jabbing her in the throat hard enough to hurt. Jenna stepped back and cleared her throat hard before she spotted Monica in the hallway outside Stuart’s office, sweeping tears from her face.

The part of Jenna that had taken on the role of mother in Monica’s life nearly twenty years ago stirred her to go over there, give her a giant hug, and tell her she loved her. That everything was going to be okay.

Maybe it was because she knew she’d fall apart if she did, but instead Jenna turned on her heel and headed into the hearth room, pausing the TV to get the boys’ attention as they scooted to make room for her again.

“Sit in the middle, Auntie, please.” Sam patted the couch without pulling his gaze from the frozen image on the TV.

Because the coffee table prevented her from kneeling in front of them, she sat on top of it and leaned in, kissing their soft cheeks. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I have to go. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow though. Promise.”

“I thought you were going to help get me to sleep!” Sam protested.

“Me too!” Joseph parroted.

“I know. I’m sorry, but remember how we talked about the things that big people have to do sometimes?”

“The unfun ones?”

Jenna nodded. “Yep, this is one of them, but I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. Promise.”

Sensing the change in the boys’ energies, the dog had dropped his bully stick and trotted to the end of the table.

“Say bye to Toby too,” Joseph said, pointing a chubby finger toward the end of the couch.

“Not Toby, Axel!”

Not either, it turns out. As soon as Jenna focused her attention on the dog, he dashed away, a flash of black-and-white fur and a raised tail. “Looks like he’s not in the mood for goodbyes tonight,” Jenna said before doling out a second round of kisses on her nephews.

When she returned to the kitchen, Monica was at the sink, pressing a wet paper towel over her eyes in an attempt to pull herself into mom mode, and Jenna softened at the sight of it. “I’m gonna go. I’ll call you later and tell you how it goes.” She grabbed her purse and headed out. If she hugged Monica tonight, they’d both be in tears.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Like Stuart had suggested, she got in her truck and drove off. The sun would be close to setting, though it was invisible behind a thick curtain of clouds that promised rain and an ample amount of it. She drove around the block, taking in the stately homes and manicured yards that made up this part of town. Stuart and Monica had been among the youngest in the neighborhood when they moved in three years ago. It had helped them get a jump on things that Stuart’s family was well off and had enabled him to go through medical school without a single loan. On the other hand, Jenna would spend the next twelve years paying off her two wasted years of medical school and the additional year she spent to become a licensed radiology technologist.

She circled back around and parked three houses down. While she expected Stuart, it was her sister who stepped outside a few minutes later, half dragged by the dog as he zoomed from one bush to the other, then to the mailbox. Getting out, Jenna headed around to open the rear passenger door. She’d never been one to let stuff accumulate in her vehicles, and the back seat was bare and relatively dog-proof.

Along the short walk over, Monica was yanked after a couple squirrels in the trees and a rabbit in a bush. “The boys are okay,” she said as they neared, her voice still nasal. Having spotted Jenna, the dog slowed down and dropped his tail as if realizing this wasn’t a normal walk. “Stuart’s showing them train videos on YouTube.”

Jenna pressed her lips together to lock in an “I told you so” her sister didn’t need to hear. “Look, I’m tight on time. We can talk later.”

“Okay.” Monica offered over a Post-it note and the dog tether that Jenna would need to attach to the seat belt. “Here’s the address, and there’s a woman waiting for him. I wrote her name down, but you can’t go in the front. Intakes are around the back.”

Jenna glanced at the address before dropping it into the front seat. “I remember where it is.” It was far from the only shelter in Chicago, but it was the only one they’d ever gone to with their mom.

“I’ve been thinking about this whole thing nonstop the last couple days,” Monica added.

“Which whole thing?” Jenna didn’t know if her sister meant tomorrow’s biopsy or the dog.

“All of it. Mom. Her dying when we were so little. Maybe we were older than the boys are, but we were still so young.” Monica’s voice quaked. “And also, how I got the gene and you didn’t, and why.”

“What do you mean ‘why’? You got the gene and I didn’t because of a random genetic lottery related to which chromatids ended up in which fertilized gametes, that’s why.”

Monica rolled her eyes. “You know I hate when you go all bio nerd on me.”

Spoken by someone whose husband has a medical degree. “It’s the process of cell division, Monica. It defines what we’re made of.”

Monica shook her head. “Other things more important than that define what we’re made of. Remember that day when school got called off for that water-main break, and we had to go with Mom to her chemo appointment?”

So many of those days ran together, but that long day in the treatment center was etched into Jenna’s brain. With no clue as to how bad the road ahead for their mom would ultimately be, she and Monica had made the most of it, making up stories about the lives of the healthcare workers, most of it related to who was secretly dating who. “Yeah. What about it?”

“On the way inside from the parking lot, you spotted a nickel on the ground and started to pick it up, but Mom told you to leave it because it was tails side up. As we walked away, you ran back and flipped it over and said it would be lucky for the next person who found it.” Monica’s voice pitched. “Remember how it brought tears to Mom’s eyes, and how she hugged you and said you had a heart of gold?”

Jenna swallowed. Of course, she remembered. It was one of those sacred memories of her mom she kept tucked away. She and Monica had never spoken of it before. Jenna half figured her sister had been in a world of her own during that short exchange and hadn’t heard it.

Suddenly Monica’s face pocked with red splotches, and she burst into tears. “I ran back and picked it up while you two were hugging. It was good that you were putting out into the universe, and I picked it up. I stole it!”

Jenna’s stomach knotted as she stared at her sister.

“Don’t you see? You’re fundamentally kind and giving, and I’m fundamentally flawed. Of course, I ended up with this gene! It’s my karma. It’s been coming for me forever, and I’m still doing shit like this.” She pointed to the dog. “Digging my hole even deeper.”

Jenna stepped forward and pulled her sister into a tight hug, Monica’s round, taut belly pressing against her. “Stop it, okay? Just stop it. Tomorrow’s going to be fine, you’ll see. I know it.”

Monica sucked in a shaky breath. “If you’re not too tired, will you come back tonight? More than anyone in the world tonight, I just want my sister.”

Jenna needed to get her game face on, needed to forgive her sister, to tell her that the nickel had been meant for her anyway, but her knees were suddenly weak, and all she wanted to do was get in the truck and drive away and definitely not come back. “I’ll come back. Just do what you can to calm down, okay? This can’t be good for the baby.”

After Jenna got the seat belt tether attached, the two of them were able to get the dog loaded by sheer threat of picking him up. He leaped inside when he realized human touch was imminent. Monica took off for the house, and Jenna for the shelter.

As she drove off, she glanced in the rearview mirror and made eye contact with the dog. Jenna had a sinking feeling he knew right where he was going. “I’m sorry. For all of us. And I hope to God whoever gets you next is able to do better by you. I really do.”

Soon, the rain began with a sprinkle, then fat drops of slush hit the windshield, and at some point, Jenna began to cry.