Connections Read Online Free PDF Page B

money, no jewels or antiques like Marliese had. Her sister wouldn’t come from Italy. All these years, she’d never come. Why would she come when Rosa died?
    But that’s the way it was. Like across the hall—Marliese Vilmer’s whole family together in her home for the first time. So many times she had wished for a visitor, some company. She would have been so very pleased to have them all gathered under her roof. If only she could be there too, to enjoy them.
    Later, when Rosa had heard the shuffling of cartons and bags being dragged over the tile floor to the front door, she got into bed, clutching Princess to her chest. Princess was the only thing in Rosa’s life worth anything. A chill shuddered through Rosa as she wondered what would happen to Princess if she died. Who would take care of her dog?
    Now, thinking back to that day, remembering her friend and her own anxiety, a melancholy sadness overcame her. A teardrop fell into her glass, as it had turned out that Princess had died. Rosa had thought very carefully before getting another dog, knowing that at her age, she would probably die long before the dog did. She picked up her little love and rocked her. Guilt flooded her in anticipation of leaving her an orphan. What would she do without her? Would she be sent to some family and cry and howl all day, wanting her mama, wondering where she was? Would they put her in a cold cage at the Humane Society or the ASPCA, where she would cower, petrified, hating Rosa for abandoning her?
    Now that Marliese wouldn’t be able to take care of her dog as she had promised, Rosa thought of writing to her sister, asking her to take the dog. Going on an airplane, in cargo? To a strange country? It would probably smell funny to a dog. No. Besides, her sister might not even be alive then. But no matter where she went or how wonderful the people were, Princess would not be happy. The only thing was to have her put to sleep so she wouldn’t mourn for Rosa.
    Suppose she had a heart attack in her sleep? Or worse, a stroke, like Marliese, and didn’t die? Nobody would find her for days. Poor Princess. Rosa couldn’t bear the thought. She knew it was the only kind thing to do. She would write down instructions and leave them somewhere where they’d be found. But what would she instruct? Take her dog to the vet and have her put to sleep? She should do a will, even though there was hardly anything to leave to a niece and nephew in another country. But she should do it, for Princess’s sake. Her fear for Princess and her fear for herself burned in her eyes. And Rosa whimpered to herself in Italian.

Chapter 13
    Louise Sidway stuck her thumb under the leather to adjust her shoulder-strap bag. She didn’t realize how tired she was until she climbed the two flights of subway stairs onto the sidewalk and counted the long crosstown blocks she’d have to walk from Lexington Avenue. She decided to stay on 86 th Street, which seemed shorter because of store windows she could glance into and the crowds she’d have to pass through. Her feet hurt, her back ached, and she wished she could get home and just undress and relax. But she couldn’t because of Honda.
    As she approached the last landing in her building, his whimpering turned to yelping. “Sh-h-h, you want to get us thrown out?” she called, knowing he would only cry louder at the sound of her voice and that the neighbors would complain anyway. When people asked her why she chose such an unusual name, she casually answered that it had been the name of a Japanese lover she once had. That always shut them up. The truth was he reminded her of a motorcycle. She smiled as she unlocked the door and braced herself for the streamlined mass of black, with the chrome-colored triangle on his forehead, that would jump on her. His front paws rested on her shoulders.
    “I know you’re part Labrador, but nobody ever told me you’re part horse too,” she teased him. Following their ritual, Honda