The words "think" and "pee" registered like warning bells, my love heart eyes popping just like they did on the TV screen.
I pinpointed an exploring Pugly. "You think, or you know?"
"Er … 'know'. Yeah. He won't pee." She placed the lead on the kitchen table and made her way to the floor to ceiling windows. "Wow, Lots. This view is incredible."
My eyes zeroed in on the lead, and I shuddered. The kitchen table was an eating-place. Dog leads shouldn't share eating-places.
Trying to shake the unhygienic thought out of my head, I answered Danielle but was distracted by Dudley wiping his snout along the base of my sofa. "Yeahhhhh, the view is … great!" What the fuck is he doing, trying to create the longest dog snot trail? "Maybe we should get Dudley settled in the laundry, yeah?"
"In a minute," she said, dismissively, not even turning to face me. "We've got time, I checked. It will only take us fifteen or so minutes to get to the gala in an Uber."
Fuck the Uber and fuck the gala. I didn't care about those. What I cared about was Dudley using my rug as a flea dispenser.
"Traffic is heavy tonight. We shouldn't chance it."
She spun to face me. "Oh my God! You're such a worry-wart. When did you become so uptight?"
"I'm not. I just don't like being late."
Dudley performed a circle manoeuvrer, as if preparing to take a dump.
"He's not going to shit on my rug is he?"
Danielle's eyes widened. "Um … of course not." She darted toward him. "Dudley, come here."
The ugly little fuck took off down the hallway, Danielle in tow, her heels clicking against the floorboards. "DUDLEY!"
I followed them. "Has he ever been trained?"
"Trained, as in obedience training? No! He's a dog, not an army cadet."
"Dogs need training, Danielle."
"I disagree. They need love and attention." She kept chasing after him, making a hard left into my bedroom and cornering the little turd.
"Clearly," I responded, sarcastically.
Pugly darted around her and jumped onto my bed. We both launched after him, our shoulders colliding a split second before our heads. He nearly escaped again, but I secured his wiggling little arse.
"Ow, my head," Danielle whined. "That hurt." She fell back onto my mattress, her chocolate brown curls splayed around her face, her hands massaging her head, her eyes pressed shut. She looked like an angel, an angel with a sore head but an angel nonetheless.
I wanted to take a photo, frame it, and secure it to my wall so that I could stare at it before I went to bed and each morning when I woke up. She could be my daily motivation and reminder of why life was so important, that it was short, and that everything could be gone with the blink of an eye.
I didn't want to blink. I didn't want to lose her again. That was for certain. No matter what happened in the next two months, I would not let her slip through my fingers again. Ever.
Dodging Pugly's intrusive tongue, I provided some distance between my face and his. "Come on, you. I'm going to show you to your room now."
Danielle opened her eyes and smiled. "See? Just love and attention."
I grumbled.
She'd been right. It had only taken us fifteen minutes in an Uber to get to the gala venue. Add on the five minutes it took to get Pugly settled and then another two to find a tie that matched her dress, and we'd ended up being only five minutes late, which I could cope with.
"Oh, my Lord, Danielle," my mother said, as she stood up from the table. "You look simply stunning."
Danielle blushed and let go of my arm to hug Mum. "Thank you, Jeanette. You look absolutely beautiful as well."
She did. Mum was a classic beauty - dark hair and Snow White skin. After Dad died when I was five years old, and despite her remarrying Pete four years later and then divorcing him shortly after we moved house when I was fifteen, men had been trying to court her.
"Why hello there, little brother," Laura said, as she wrapped her arms around me. "Nice of you to tell me you'd become newly engaged, and to Danielle of all people."
Her tone of voice spelled trouble. It spelled that she was on to us; that she knew we were hiding something, and that she was going to figure it out.
Over my dead body.
I hugged her back. Tightly. "Congratulations, big sis! I'm so proud of you."
"Don't avoid the question," she whispered into my ear.
"You never asked one," I whispered back.