“Thanks for the ride. It was really good to see you again.”
“Yeah, you too. Gimme a call whenever you need to go somewhere.” He reached into the middle console and fished out a grubby card. “Use this number and I’ll let you know if I’m available, okay?”
I grabbed it out of his hand before Nora’s fingers closed on it. Brent Mayfair. That was his name. Smiling at him as I opened the back door, I waved the card at him.
“Well, thanks again, Brent.” I felt smug when I said his name. “Please say hello to your mom for me.”
“Will do, Miss F. See ya.” And with a screech of tires, he shot back into traffic millimeters ahead of a fully loaded passenger van.
“If that kid makes it to his next birthday without causing an accident, I’ll personally bake him a cake.” Nora started to shake her head but reached up one hand instead to explore the ponytail. “Well, come on, partner. We’ve got big plans to make.”
The big plans entailed making a pot of coffee, slicing a Danish pastry—cream cheese, my favorite—and thumbing through Instagram and Pinterest. By the time I’d looked at a million videos of cute kittens and puppies and commented on a handful of posts, I was ready to go home. All of that screen time, plus a few bites of pastry, and I was ready for a nap. Nora hadn’t even touched her Danish. That probably had something to do with why I was a bit broader in the beam than she was.
“Nora, it’s been a blast, but I need to get going.” I stood and stretched, stiff from sitting curled up on one of Nora’s overstuffed linen-covered sofas. “So much for our business planning session.” I stifled a yawn, glad I could fall back into bed if the spirit moved me. Maybe I did need to get a hobby.
Nora looked at me, one eyebrow lifted in that half-questioning, half-mocking way she’d perfected over the years.
“What do you mean, ‘so much for our business yadda yadda’? I got most of it done while you were playing on your phone.” Holding her iPad up so I could see the screen, she gave me a smug smile. “And here’s what I’m calling it. Two Sisters Private Services. Whaddaya think?”
“Nora, that ‘private services’ bit makes us sound, I don’t know, a tad sleazy, don’t you think?” I held out one hand for the iPad, visions of what our uniform might entail nearly giving me the heart attack I’d feigned in the Uber.
She leaned over and poked me in the arm, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I’m just kidding, Sis. How about Two Sisters Pet Valet Services? I think that has a classy ring to it, don’t you?”
I sat back down with a relieved thump, rubbing my arm where she’d hit it. “Much better. I don’t think it would be good for my reputation to be part of a ‘private services’ gig anyway.” I glanced at the iPad, noting she’d listed her name first. Fair enough. “Any idea how we might start rounding up a few takers?”
She gave a nonchalant shrug, a too-casual dip of one shoulder that had me instantly on high alert.
“Easy enough. I’ll print up a few business cards and slide them underneath the doors in this building while you canvas the dog park across the street.” She started walking toward the desk that peeked out from behind a Japanese silk screen in one corner of the room, the latest in desktop computers and printers sitting primly side by side on its polished surface.
“Hold up.” I stared at her, my hands lifted and eyes narrowed. “How come you get to stay inside and I have to go out? It’s raining cats and dogs out there, in case you didn’t notice.”
“All the better to snag a few clients.”
“Oh, hardee har har. I’m serious.”
“So we both go. Gwen, if we’re going to be successful pet sitters, we’ve got to get used to being outside.”
She had a point. Just as sure as God made those little green apples, Portland skies would always be ready to dump something on our heads.
I was ready to give in gracefully when another thought crossed my mind. I bounced to my feet, hands on my hips, a suspicious expression on my face.
“Nora, exactly how much experience have you had in, uh, dealing with animal waste? I mean, you do realize that we have to clean up after the little darlings, right?” I pointed to her stilettos, one eyebrow lifted in question. I could practically see the steaming ooze left behind by one of our clients. The pets, not the owners. And definitely not a pleasant visual, I can tell you that.
“Me?” She gave a laugh as she quickly tapped on the keyboard, glancing at the computer’s wafer-thin monitor as she typed. “I’m not the poop scooping type. Not one bit. My last husband, or was it the one before, always employed someone to clean up after his precious yappy dogs.” She glanced over at me. “And my parents were too busy for me to have any pets of my own.”
“I hate to break it to you, but that someone is going to be us in this little business venture.” A thought occurred to me and I said, “You haven’t been picking up after the dogs you’ve been walking, have you.”
She stopped typing and stared across the room at me, eyebrows drawn together in consternation.
“Well, no, but…” Her voice trailed off and then her face brightened, the lines smoothing out. “But we can hire someone to do that part of it. Easy peasy. How about that kid that drove us here? He needs something else to do besides trying to cause a wreck.”
I let my hands drop to my thighs, wincing as I hit a bruise I’d collected from a recent round with the lawn edger. That was Nora’s answer to everything. Hire someone. Throw money at them. How we were going to pay for all of this and still make any money was beyond me. Before I could get any further with these rather dismal thoughts, Nora looked at me, smiling and waving a handful of newly printed business cards.
“Aaand here we go, Sis! It’s time to get this show on the road to fame and fortune.”
Two hours and fifteen floors later, plus a brief jaunt across the street to the Portland Pooch Park during a break in the rain, we had collected four new clients.
And a few other souvenirs as well.
I examined the bottoms of my Birkenstocks before wiping them on a patch of grass outside of the apartment building. I’d have to hose them off before I could wear them again in polite company.
Nora, of course, had managed to navigate the puppy pitfalls in her sky-high heels.
“This could really turn into something big, Gwen. Really big.” She tossed the leftover cards onto the concierge’s desk as we walked back into the luxury apartment building, ignoring the irritated expression on the woman’s face. I walked behind Nora and scooped the cards up again with an apologetic smile. Sometimes going places with Nora made me feel like a pet owner in training: I always had to clean up her messes. And judging by the way the woman’s face wrinkled in revulsion, she thought so as well.
Or maybe it was my shoes.
“So, what’s the schedule?” I hurried to catch up with Nora, shoving the cards into my jacket pocket. “Did we say I’d be starting tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow?” Nora snorted, giving her head a hair-wrecking toss. “You’re starting today, hon.” She looked at me with a critical eye, her nose wrinkling as her glance swept over my sandaled feet. “I guess I’ll have to loan you something to wear.”
I looked down and saw the dark streak that stretched from the bottom of the shoe to the side of my sock. It was pretty repugnant. I really hoped I wouldn’t have to toss out the shoes. They’d been faithful companions for at least ten years. Maybe more. And were much less critical than some folks, that was certain. They never uttered a peep, no matter the weather, and were always ready to roll for any occasion. Sigh. Maybe it was time to retire them. Kind of like me, come to think of it. Was that how an old teacher was viewed? As a worn-out shoe with disgusting things stuck all over the bottom?
“Gwen?