I Was His Waiting Room novel · Chapter 7 of 32

Chapter 7: The Balcony

I made Back Bay in eighteen minutes, which isn't legal on a Saturday.

The aide was waiting on the front step in her raincoat, holding the door with her foot.

"I didn't know if I was allowed to open it," she said. "It's her apartment. It's her dog."

"It's my contract," I said. "Show me."

The kitchen smelled like old coffee and the lilies from the jeweler, in a vase on the table with the card still in them.

The glass door to the back balcony was shut and locked.

Through it I could see a strip of wet iron grating, a tipped-over steel bowl, and a yellow shape pressed flat against the glass.

Juniper.

She saw me and stood up so fast her back legs slipped on the wet metal.

I unlocked the door.

She didn't jump on me. I'd trained her not to jump on anyone. She just walked into my legs and leaned, her whole weight, shaking.

Her coat was soaked through. Her ribs ran under my hand.

"Hey, girl. Hey. I know. I know."

The aide brought towels without being asked.

We rubbed her down on the kitchen floor together, kneeling on the tile.

"How long since you saw her inside?" I asked.

"Thursday morning. Ms. Lynch said she'd take care of her. She said the dog was a mess in the condo."

"Did she leave food?"

The aide pointed at the bowl outside. It was full of rainwater and nothing else.

I filled a clean bowl with kibble from the closet and set it down.

Juniper ate like it was a race.

I took photos. The empty bowl. The rain. The ribs. The time stamp on my phone.

My hands were steady now. That was the strange part.

Behind me the front door opened.

"What are you doing in my home?"

Kiera rolled in fast, her wheels hissing on the hardwood. Ronan came in behind her with two shopping bags from Newbury Street.

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