New in Town

CHAPTER 1

Oh, Becky said, Hi there.

The dog, the very large Bernese Mountain dog, that was sitting in front of the front door to her apartment building, opened its eyes and raised up its head, giving her the once over.

You okay? Becky asked.

The dog put its head back down.

Where... Becky let her voice trail off, as she scanned up and down the street.

There didn't appear to be an owner anywhere, not obviously, anyway.  She put her hand out and the dog sniffed it once, with obvious disinterest.  She held onto the sandwich she had bought for dinner, and stuck her hand into the dog's thick fur, feeling around the neck for a collar.

Okay, she said, finding one, and sliding her fingers down it, until she had a hold of the tag, Good, really good.

She had to push away a ton of fur, but finally she could read the tag.  Relieved that there was a phone number, she ignored it and focused instead on the name.

Ed? she said.

That perked the dog up.

Okay, Ed, she said, Come inside, I'll get you some water, you must be hot, poor thing.

It had been a hot day, for Portland anyway, low nineties.  Given that the days were at their longest right now, the dog had been sitting in almost full sun.  Becky opened the door and Ed got up and went inside.  He sat down in front of the inner, locked, door and looked at Becky.

Okay, I'll just get my mail, Becky said, and opened the box.

There were only two pieces, a mailer from Bed Bath and Beyond, which Becky celebrated for a second, before flipping to the other piece, a post card.  It said, Save the Date, on it and though, when she saw the pictures, she didn't want to read it, she did anyway.  Engagement party.  She felt the familiar mix of anger, and sadness, fill her and she forced it down, knowing she was in for another rough night.  Rough weekend, probably, as it was Friday, no work to distract her tomorrow.

What did distract her was Ed's nose, poking at her other hand, the one that happened to be holding the sandwich.

Oh no you don't, she said, yanking her hand up.  She half expected him to jump on her, but he didn't.  Well trained apparently.  Good boy, she said, then thought about it.  Ed must be a boy, right?  Come on, she said, as she opened the door.

Ed took off as soon as Becky had the door open.  Becky grabbed her keys out of the lock and followed.  She could hear Ed bounding up the stairs.  Aside from wondering what the neighbors would think, she thought she might have to use her dinner to coax the dog back down the stairs, to her apartment.  Which was probably okay, because dinner was probably going to turn into chocolate, ice cream, and possibly vodka.  As soon as she went out and got ice cream, and vodka, that is.

She was stunned when she got to her floor and the dog was not only waiting for her, on the right floor, he was actually sitting outside her door.  She had figured, as she chased Ed up the stairs, that he had gone all the way to the top.

What the? she asked Ed, as she walked down the hall towards him.

Ed responded by getting up, immediately lowering the front half of his body to the ground and waving his tail frantically.

That was an easy one, Becky thought.  That meant, Let's play.

Sugar used to do that all the time, when Becky got home from work.  The sadness and anger came back again, more sadness than anger this time.  At the same time Becky almost had to smile, Ed was ten times the size of Sugar, at least, but there Ed was, doing the exact same thing.

Becky opened the door and again Ed pushed the door open, and made his way into the apartment.  He didn't waste any time, he just ran right over to the couch, hopped up and made himself very comfortable.

Also just like Sugar, Becky thought, glancing over at the refrigerator.  Then she remembered she had taken the picture down, a day after she put it up.  She stuck it in her underwear drawer so she could look at it if she wanted to, but didn't have to.

She put the bag from the deli, and the mail, down on the counter, taking a second to turn the postcard over, wincing when she saw the familiar handwriting on the back.  She refused to read it, and turned her attention back to Ed.

Water? she said, scrounging through the cupboards for a bowl.

The apartment was furnished and equipped with the barest possible amount of plates and silverware.  She turned on the faucet.  At the sound of the water running, Ed came running over.  Becky set the bowl down and he lapped it up, making a pretty nice mess.

Dish towels, she thought.

That was something else she needed, but didn't have.  She didn't even glance at the boxes piled up against the wall, under the windows.  No kitchen stuff in there.

Definitely Bed Bath and Beyond this weekend, she thought.

She looked at Ed's tag again, then grabbed a piece of paper, and a pen, off the counter, frowning as she copied the phone number down.  A quick Google told her it was a Los Angeles number.  That was a little worrisome, but she sent the text anyway.  There was nothing to do now but wait.

Well maybe not nothing, she thought, as she took a second to stash the meatball sub in the fridge.

It might make a good breakfast, tomorrow.  Right now, Becky just wanted chocolate.

CHAPTER 2

Hey Ed, I got you... Drew left the rest of the sentence unfinished, as he realized the door to the trailer was open.  He hopped up the two steps and went inside.  Ed, he called, Weenie?  I got you dinner.

He set the plate with the two plain burger patties down on the tiny table.  He took a second to check the small bathroom, but he knew it was hopeless.  The only noise in the trailer was the air conditioner, which Drew had left blasting on the highest setting.  Ed was a lot of things, but quiet wasn't one of them.

Drew had a moment of panic, but remembered the microchip.  It would be okay.  Whoever found her would turn her into a shelter and the shelter would read the chip and call...

Oh fuck, Drew said.

The breeder, that's who, because Drew had never bothered to update the chip information on the website.  It was one of those things that would take all of five minutes and he had just never done it.  Even though he had had over five years to get it done.  The vet reminded him at Ed's annual appointment every year.  God, he was an idiot.

Focus, he told himself, and grabbed his phone off the table.

Maybe he could find Ed at the shelter, before they got ahold of the breeder.  That would be optimal.  How many animal shelters were there in Portland anyway?  He swiped at his phone, prepared to find out, but the text alert stopped him.  He didn't recognize the number but he opened it anyway.

I think I have your dog.  Call me ASAP.

Drew's finger reached for the call button, but he stopped it at the last second.  He didn't think someone had kidnapped, er, dognapped, his dog, but engaging in a conversation with someone, who could be anyone, was probably going to lead to no good.  Some fans would go to any lengths to get him alone, and there was a reason he had once needed to get a new cell phone number, several times a year.

He texted back instead.

What do you mean you have my dog?  Prove it.

He knew he was taking the risk of pissing the, hopefully harmless, and truly good, Samaritan off, but he had to get back to the set, and he'd rather spend the time reaching out to the animal shelters.

The text came in almost immediately.  Drew scanned the picture carefully.  There was something familiar about it, somehow, but it definitely wasn't one of the pictures of Ed Drew had posted on social media, finally caving to his manager's constant badgering to beef up his internet presence.  Drew glanced at the clock again and hit the call button.

Hello, she said.

Hi, he said, This is...Ed's owner.

Prove it, she said, and he laughed.

Look, I'm sorry about that, I was a little freaked out, I took her to work today because it was going to be hot, and the AC in my apartment conked out.

What?

Drew glanced at his phone and saw a full five bars.

Must be a problem on her end, he thought.

I took her-, he started again, louder and slower but she interrupted him.

Who's her?

Ed.

Ed's a her?

Umm, yeah, Drew said, I mean, you can check if you don't believe me.

Um, no, that's okay, I didn't notice, there's lot of fur, I could barely find the dog tag.

Understood, Drew said, glancing at the clock again.  Look, where are you?

Where are you? she replied.

Uh, look, I'm sorry, I know I'm being rude, and thank you for finding her, and calling me, really, I just have to get back to work.  He thought quickly.  Could I come get her after work?

What time do you get out of work?  I mean, it's already after six.

Oh jeez, Drew said, realizing he didn't know, It will be late, probably, eleven, or later.

Eleven!

How 'bout if I send an Uber, I got a couple of drivers I use, they don't mind the dog, they could pick her up, I'm over at Laurelhurst Park, would that work?

You're at the Park? she said slowly, I could walk him, her I mean, over, it's not that far.

Are you sure? Drew said.

Yeah, why not, it's starting to cool off a little, I think.

Okay, I'm at the east end of the lake.  Can you give me your name, I need to give it to security.

Security? she said, and Drew prayed he wouldn't have to explain it, cause he really had to go, NOW.  Becky, Rebecca that is, Downey.

Okay, got it, thanks, see you, soon, Drew said.

Wait, Becky said, How will I find you?  Should I just text you when I get there?

No, Drew said, Just look for the TV crew, I gotta go, thanks again, bye.

He hung up, plugged his phone back in, then raced out of the trailer and back to the set.

CHAPTER 3

Wait, Becky said, but she was pretty sure he was gone.

A quick glance at the phone confirmed it.  She looked at Ed, who was back on the couch, looking very much like she owned the place.

What do you say Ed? Becky asked, shaking her head a little, at the fact that such a beautiful FEMALE dog had such a gruff name.  Do you want to go to see...your owner?  Lousy name dude?

No response, not that Becky had really expected one.  She brought up a map, on her phone, and looked it over.  She had been by the Park, once, since she had moved in.  Directions weren't exactly a strength of hers, but she figured, if she needed to, she could always turn the GPS on, as a last resort.

Let's-, Becky stopped as she realized that she didn't have a leash.  And they needed one.

She walked down the length of the apartment, squinting at the boxes lined up, trying to remember what was in them, which was pretty pointless.  There had been no rhyme or reason to her packing, just frantic grabbing, then stuffing and finally taping the lids shut.

The apartment was just one long room, kitchen on one end, bed on the other.  The bathroom was decent and the one closet was pretty large, which was a nice bonus, but it hadn't really mattered.  Becky had taken it, since it was available, and furnished and, unbeknownst to the realtor showing it to her, everything she owned, or owned now anyway, was in her car, parked right downstairs.  Becky had no intention of going back to Seattle any time soon.

Her hiking pack was on top of a box and its fluorescent orange color caught her attention.

Maybe, she thought, fingering the stretchy cord on the outside of it.

She took a second to open the main section of the pack, grimaced when she saw, and remembered, she had stuffed all her lingerie in there.  She turned her attention back to the possible leash.

It took a couple minutes to unwind the strap from the pack.  Several times Becky glanced at Ed, but the dog seemed perfectly content.  She took a carabiner off the pack as well.  She tried hooking it to the dog tag ring but it was too big, so she set it on the coffee table.  Instead she laced the cord through the ring on Ed’s collar, and gave it an experimental tug.

It was way too thin, and Becky doubted she'd be able to hold onto Ed, if the dog decided to chase a squirrel or something, but it would have to do.

Let's go, she said, Walk.

At the last word Ed hopped off the couch and headed to the door.  Becky decided to take her purse, she could pick up some ice cream on the way home and headed to the door, stopping at the last second.

Wait, Becky said, grabbing a plastic bag, in case Ed decided to do her business on the way to the Park.  Wait until we see your dad to poop okay?

Ed gave Becky a look that obviously meant, Yeah right lady, and sure enough, halfway to the Park, she stopped and did what she needed to do.  Right next to a garbage can, thoughtfully enough.

Becky cleaned it up with more sadness than disgust.  At home, which wasn't home anymore, she just let Sugar out into the fenced back yard of their townhouse.  She missed Sugar.  She missed her house, and her stuff, and even, hating herself for it, him.

Cool dog, a guy said to her, as they entered the Park but he gave the makeshift leash a good, hard look.

Thanks, she said, and asked him directions to the lake.

That way, he said, pointing, But I wouldn't go over there, they are filming a movie or something, it's all barricaded.

She thanked him and kept walking.  Ed trotted alongside her, stopping to sniff here and there, but listening when Becky told her to come on.

She came to the barricade, and the police officer guarding it.  A quick conversation and he pointed her in the direction of the one entrance to the fenced-in area.

You must be Becky, the guard said, when she got to the table.

Huh? she said, surprised.

The dog, they told me, but I still need to see your ID, sorry.

She pulled her license out and handed it to him.

Washington huh? he said.

I just moved here, two weeks ago.

Work?

Yeah, Becky said, Work.

Which was entirely true, and entirely not, at the same time.  The Portland territory had been a mess, for years.  Gary, her supervisor, and his supervisor, had wanted her to take over the Oregon office.  They had been after her to do it for a couple of years.  Becky had never even considered it, but the Monday morning after...everything happened, she had marched into Gary's office and told him she wanted the position in Portland.  He had started to ask her why, why now, why anything, but she had cut him off and he had shut up fast.  The company had set her up with a realtor to find a place to live.

Gary had been somewhat shocked to find she had moved to Portland, since it was just supposed to be an apartment hunting expedition.  She had told him she couldn't wait to get started and she convinced him it would be fine.  She worked from home plenty in Seattle, what was the difference, working from thirty minutes, or 3 hours, away.  She still had to pitch in and help with the occasional question from Seattle, while she got settled in Portland, but she figured it didn't make a difference.  She knew no one here and had nothing to do but think or, more accurately, mope, anyway.

Becky thanked the guard and headed in the direction he told her.  They walked a couple of minutes, and then Ed barked.  Becky tightened her grip on the leash but it was no use.  Ed took off, pulling the cord out of Becky's hand and she followed the dog.

Ed, a man cried, and he came towards them

Ed was wagging her tail so furiously, and jumping with such unbridled joy, Becky had no doubt that they had found Ed's owner.

You must be Becky, he said, and Becky winced.

She had decided, for about the tenth time in her life, nursing school, high school, middle school, to name a few, to start using Rebecca as her name.

Fresh city, fresh start, she had told herself, driving down Route 5.

No more boring Becky.  Rebecca.  Rebecca is sophisticated and chic and classy and...

You are Becky, right? he said, coming closer and Becky sighed.

I guess I am, she said, and held out her hand.

She looked up at him and thought it couldn't be, but then he was shaking her hand and confirming it.

Drew Carson. he said, Nice to meet you, and thanks.  Thank you so much.

CHAPTER 4

The woman took his hand, but the instant she recognized him, and realized, it was obvious.  She froze and stared at him.

Come on, Drew said, this way, as nicely as he could.

He was both pleased and annoyed by her reaction.  She was around his age, which was the right age to have grown up watching him, on his first TV