Arthur Caldwell had been in town for exactly eleven days when he discovered that there were some things worse than three nosy women. One of those things was a woman who had decided an animal was trying to communicate with her. Another was a woman who had decided he was responsible for the animal. And the worst of all was they were all Lou Bellamy. Arthur discovered this on Monday afternoon.
He was sitting on his front porch with a glass of iced tea when a dog appeared. It was a big dog. A very big dog. The kind of dog that looked like it had been assembled from spare parts. Long legs. Oversized paws. One ear that stood straight up and another that seemed to have given up entirely. It was brown, white, and a little bit of everything else. Arthur had never seen it before.
The dog walked across his lawn, stopped in front of the porch, and stared at him. Arthur stared back. "Don't." The dog sat. Arthur took a drink of tea. "Whatever you're thinking, don't." The dog tilted its head. Arthur pointed toward the street. "Go home." The dog didn't move. "Go." Nothing. Arthur sighed. He set down his glass. "Fine."
He got up, walked down the steps, and approached the dog. The dog stood. Arthur stopped. The dog stepped forward. Arthur stepped backward. "You're a big fellow, aren't you?" The dog's tail wagged. "I don't have anything for you." The tail wagged harder.
Arthur shook his head. "You're going to be disappointed." The dog walked straight past him and sat on the porch. Arthur stared. "Well, that's just rude." The dog looked pleased.
Arthur had just decided to call animal control when he heard a voice from across the street. "ART!"
He closed his eyes. "No." "ART!" He opened them. Lou Bellamy was standing in her front yard. She had a sun hat on her head, gardening gloves on both hands, and a basket hanging from one arm. She was looking directly at the dog. Then at Arthur. Then back at the dog. Her face lit up. "Oh!"
Arthur pointed at her. "Don't."
Lou started across the street. Arthur knew immediately that there was no stopping her. She reached the bottom of his porch steps. "Who is this?"
"I don't know."
Lou looked at the dog. The dog looked at Lou. Lou gasped. "Oh, my goodness."
Arthur frowned. "What?"
"He knows."
"Knows what?"
Lou crouched down. The dog immediately walked over and put his enormous head in her lap. Lou looked up at Arthur. "He chose me."
Arthur rubbed his forehead. "He wandered into my yard."
"That's how it starts."
"What starts?"
"Friendships."
"With dogs?"
"With everybody."
Lou scratched the dog's ears. "What a handsome boy."
Arthur crossed his arms. "You don't even know if it's a boy."
Lou looked offended. "I can tell."
"How?"
"He has the face."
Arthur stared at her.
"The face?"
"Yes."
"What does that mean?"
Lou smiled. "It means he's a boy."
Arthur looked at the dog. The dog looked back. Arthur wasn't sure what bothered him more—the dog's presence or the fact that Lou seemed to understand it. "What are you going to do with him?"
Lou stood. "I don't know."
"Well, I do." Arthur pointed toward the sidewalk. "You're going to take him home."
Lou looked at the dog. The dog looked at Arthur. Then at Lou. Then he sat down. "No."
Arthur blinked. "No?"
"He doesn't want to go."
Arthur stared at her. "You asked him?" Lou nodded. "He told me."
Arthur looked toward the sky. "Lord, give me patience."
Lou smiled. "Patience is important."
"That's not what I meant."
"I know."
The dog suddenly stood and walked toward Arthur. Arthur stepped aside. The dog followed. Arthur stepped the other way. The dog followed again. Lou laughed. "I think he likes you."
"He doesn't know me."
"Neither did I."
Arthur stopped. Lou grinned. "Now look at us."
Arthur couldn't help it. He smiled. Just a little. Lou saw it. She didn't mention it.
That was one of the things Arthur would eventually come to appreciate about her. Lou noticed everything. She just didn't always announce it.
Five minutes later, Martie and Vivian came running across the street. Arthur looked at them. "How did you know?" Martie pointed at Lou. "She yelled." "I did not yell," Lou said. "You yelled, 'ART HAS A DOG.'"
"I was excited."
Vivian came up beside them. "Oh, he's adorable." Arthur looked at the dog. "He's enormous."
Vivian bent down. "Come here, sweetheart." The dog walked straight past her. Vivian looked wounded. "Well."
Lou patted the dog's head. "He likes me."
Martie examined the dog. "Does he have a collar?" Arthur looked. "No."
"Tags?"
"No."
"Then somebody's missing him."
That sobered everyone. The dog suddenly seemed less funny.
Lou knelt again. "He's probably lost." Arthur nodded. "We should find his owner."
Martie looked at him. "See? Now you're involved." Arthur sighed. "I was involved the minute he walked into my yard."
Vivian smiled. "You care."
"I do not."
"You do."
"I don't."
"You brought him onto the porch."
"He came onto the porch."
"You gave him water."
"He was thirsty."
"You talked to him."
"He was staring at me."
Vivian smiled. "Arthur, honey."
"What?"
"You're a dog person."
"I'm not a dog person."
The dog put his paw on Arthur's shoe. Arthur looked down. The sisters looked at him. He looked at them. "I hate all of you."
Lou laughed. "No, you don't." Arthur stared at her. Then the dog. Then the three sisters. "Unfortunately," he said, "I'm beginning to think I don't."
They named the dog before they found his owner. This was Martie's fault. "He needs a name."
"He already has one," Arthur said.
"How do you know?"
"He might."
Lou thought about it. "Well, until we find out, we need something to call him."
Vivian snapped her fingers. "Charlie."
Martie shook her head. "Too ordinary."
"Buford," Lou said.
Arthur stared. "No."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm not calling that animal Buford."
Lou looked at the dog. "I like Buford."
"Of course you do."
Martie studied him. "What about Hank?" Arthur shrugged. "Hank works."
Vivian frowned. "He doesn't look like a Hank."
"What does he look like?" Martie asked.
Vivian considered. "Something sophisticated."
Lou brightened. "Reginald."
Arthur immediately said, "Absolutely not."
Lou laughed. "Then Buford."
"No."
"Arthur."
"What?"
"You don't get to reject every name."
"It's my porch."
"It's the dog's porch."
"It's not his porch."
The dog wagged his tail. Lou pointed. "See? He disagrees."
Arthur gave up. "Hank." Martie smiled. "Hank it is."
And that was how Arthur Caldwell accidentally acquired a dog. Or at least temporarily. That was what he kept telling himself.They put up flyers around the neighborhood.
FOUND DOG.
Large brown-and-white male. Very friendly. One ear up. One ear down. Answers to absolutely nothing.
Lou added: Possibly named Hank.
Martie crossed it out. "We don't know that."
Hank put his head against Arthur's leg. Arthur rested one hand on the dog's head. For a moment, neither moved.
Across the street, Lou watched from her bedroom window. Martie stood behind her. "Are you spying?"
"No."
"You've got binoculars."
"I like details."
Martie sighed. "Is Art okay?" Lou nodded. "He's sad."
Martie looked toward the window. Arthur was sitting at his kitchen table with the dog beside him. "He'll be okay."
Lou nodded. "I think so."
Vivian appeared in the doorway. "What are y'all doing?"
"Watching Art."
Vivian smiled. "I knew he was going to like that dog."
Martie looked at her. "How?"
Vivian shrugged. "Because lonely people usually need something to love."
The room became quiet. Lou lowered the binoculars. Martie looked at Vivian. Vivian's expression had changed. For once, there was no teasing in it. No perfume. No flirtation. Just truth. Then Lou said softly, "Maybe that's why we need him." Vivian looked at her. "What?" Lou shrugged. "Maybe we weren't supposed to fix him." Martie smiled. "Maybe he was supposed to fix us."
Nobody laughed. Because nobody thought it was funny. Across the street, Arthur looked up. He saw three silhouettes in the upstairs window. He shook his head. Then he smiled. "What in the world are those women doing now?"
Hank barked. Arthur looked at him. "You know, I think they might be crazy." Hank wagged his tail. Arthur nodded. "Yeah." He scratched the dog's ears. "But I think they're good people."
And for the first time since he had moved into the little house across from the Bellamy sisters, Arthur Caldwell didn't feel quite so alone. Not because he had found a dog, nor because three women had invaded his quiet life. But because, somehow, without asking permission, people had begun making room for him.
And Arthur was beginning to realize something he hadn't expected. He liked having a place to belong. Even if that place came with three meddling sisters... and a dog who might or might not be named Hank.
He looked down at Hank. "Don't you dare tell them I said that." Hank barked. Arthur pointed at him. "Loose lips sink ships." Hank barked again. Arthur narrowed his eyes. "You've been talking to Lou, haven't you?"