Must Love Dogs by Claire Cook, Carrington Macduffie Read Free Book Online

Wanna lick?”
    I didn’t know exactly how the ice cream cone drill got started, but it spread like wildfire. Now, all fourteen children were running around with their soccer balls balanced on top of the mouths of their orange drill cones. They were having a great time, and while it didn’t technically have much to do with soccer, I thought I’d let it go for a while to kill some time. I tried to think of a line about gross motor development and balance in case one of the parents showed up early.
    When the kids began to actually lick the soccer balls instead of just pretending, I knew it was time to redirect. “Hang on to your soccer balls and let’s make the cones into a big orange snake,” I yelled. A couple of the third-graders rolled their eyes but, still, they all helped me make a wiggly row of cones across the field. I lined the kids up and, sending the eye-rollers first to demonstrate, let them take turns kicking their balls through, weaving them around and around the long line of cones.
    I was feeling pretty proud of myself when Kate Stone emerged from the strip of woods between the school and the soccer field. “Nice job, Sarah,” she said, flicking a dried pine needle from her shoulder, “but next time you have to cover for the coach, lose the ice cream cones.”
    *
    Michael handed me a Heineken and walked over to lean against my kitchen counter. “How’d your soccer debut go?” he asked, then tilted his head back for a long slug of his own beer. The white tail of a dress shirt peeked out from under his black Adidas jacket.
    I opened my beer, took a sip. “Thanks. And thanks for stopping by. It was fine. I think it’s going to be a real pain to run this program, though.”
    “So quit.”
    “Yeah. Especially since I’m independently wealthy……”
    Michael was midsip. He opened his eyes wide to signal that he had something to say. I waited for him to swallow. “Are you okay, Sarah? Do you need money?”
    “I’m fine. Really. Or I will be as long as I supplement one low-paying job with another.”
    Michael looked tired. He put his empty beer on the counter, looked at his watch. “Maybe you should think about doing something else entirely. I mean, no spouse, no kids, no strings. Basically, you can go anywhere you want, do any thing you want.” Michael sighed. “Jesus, I can’t even imagine.”
    I looked around my kitchen, a week’s worth of the
Boston Globe
stacked randomly on the table, the day’s dishes not filling even half the sink. “Trust me. It’s not as glamorous as it looks.”
    “Yeah, I guess. Well, I better go. Phoebe will kill me if I don’t help the girls with their homework.”
    Michael has a point
, I thought, as I waved to him while he backed out of my driveway. I could do anything. I tried to come up with an example, nothing ambitious or life-altering, just a toe-dipping kind of something to do. I flipped through my address book, dialed Lorna’s number.
    Mattress Man answered on the second ring. “Yup.”
    “Hi, this is Sarah Hurlihy from school. May I speak to Lorna, please?”
    Mattress Man didn’t answer. I waited, wondering if I should repeat myself. Finally, I heard Lorna’s voice. “Hey, Sarah, what’s up? Are you okay?”
    “I’m fine. I was just wondering. Do you want to go out and do something? I mean, no rush, just one of these days?”

Chapter 6
     
    I’ve lived in Marshbury all of my life, and never even knew it had a trailer park. My father was way ahead of me, of course. He’d not only located the trailer park; he’d found a woman there to date. Her name was Dolly and for some reason we were all having dinner at her home.
    Basically, it was a setup. Christine and Carol and their kids and I showed up at four for Sunday dinner with Dad, something several of us did once or twice a month, in varying configurations, whenever it worked out. Sometimes we brought food, sometimes we ordered out. If Dad wasn’t there, we ate without him.
    This time,