Coming Back Read Online Free PDF Page B

that with Christie, I swear I’ll turn you into a rug for in front of the fireplace.  Heel.”
    I rose to my feet and stepped around the back of my car, spotting Rusty in his police cruiser and waving at him.  He wound down his window.
    “Did you just propose to your dog?” he called out.
    I flipped him the bird.
    “Did he say yes?  I don’t think that’s even legal in California yet.”
    Rusty didn’t need to be dignified with any further attention, so I walked to the left of the Jayne property with King sticking close by on one side and their fence on the other.  More and more of their back yard came into view until I could see it in its entirety, along with Christie sitting on her seat with a light blanket over her lap.  I leaned against the fence.
    “Hey Christie.”
    Christie startled slightly and wiped her eyes with the back of one hand as she searched out the source of the sound in a bit of a daze.  She blinked a few times as if clearing away some sleep and licked her lips.
    “Oh, hi… uh… uh… Dean.”
    “How you feeling today?”
    “Good,” she lied through her teeth.  “A bit tired.”
    “They not giving you any pills for that?” I asked.
    “The drugs don’t work,” she said, and looked away as if remembering something.
    She looked as if she was drifting off again, so I hurried to keep her talking.  “I brought somebody I wanted you to meet.”
    I patted the top of the fence and King jumped up on his hind legs, peering over with unabashed curiosity.  Christie looked back, and I saw a spark of interest for the first time.
    “A Shepherd?  I always wanted one of them, they’re my favorite.  What’s her name?”
    “ His name is King,” I said grandly.
    “Any reason for that?”
    “He thinks he’s master of all he sees.  You want to throw the ball for him a few times?”
    Christie couldn’t see it, but mentioning the words ‘throw’ and ‘ball’ in the same sentence sent his tail into a wide swishing blur of happiness.  Her mouth pulled to one side and she looked doubtful.
    “Oh… I don’t know… I…”
    I snapped my fingers on the other side of the fence and King dropped back to the ground, bunching himself up before leaping and scrambling over the top.  His tail didn’t stop wagging as he turned and looked at me, and I in turn pointed at Christie.
    “Don’t look at me, with that attitude you just gave me on the street, give the ball to her.”
    King made a beeline for the steps and dropped the ball right on Christie’s lap.  I waited with bated breath as she stared at the big dog, hoping against hope that she would engage in some way, to maybe make a friend who she could be sure wouldn’t judge her at all.
    For his part, King looked from the ball to Christie’s face about fifteen times, then to me once, and then repeated the whole charade another time.  At last she picked it up and threw it to the far end of the yard.
    King scrambled for it, failing to gain purchase on the hard wood of the porch and spending a few seconds doing the canine version of the running man dance before making it onto the grass and going in for the kill.  He brought it back to Christie, chomping on it a few times along the way to make sure it wasn’t going to try any funny business.
    I saw Christie’s mom peek out of the window just behind her, and I raised my hand in greeting.   She tentatively returned the gesture and watched her daughter, who was totally engrossed with the show King was putting on.
    “Good boy!” she said with the most enthusiasm I’d heard out of her when King dropped the ball in her lap again.
    Christie bent down and wrapped her arms around him, rubbing his side as he panted happily for a moment before urging her to not forget about the ball.  She threw it and King, having learned quickly, didn’t attempt full speed until he could tear up the grass.
    “How old is he?” she asked.
    “About three and a half years. I’ve had him basically since he’s