The Dog Park Regular Remembered My Name, My Dog's, and My Divorce novel · Chapter 9 of 24

Chapter 9: Sunday Dinner

My sister's roast was in the oven by two, and by two-fifteen I was in her bathroom reading Beau's texts with the water running.

Egg's in your purse, the first one said. Don't touch it. Just know it's there.

I had put it there myself that morning, in its little pouch, after I stood in my bathroom for ten minutes with it in my hand.

I was thirty years old, in a sundress, at my sister's house in Cary.

My purse was full of a sex toy and a lip balm.

The next text said: Tank misses Waffles. Under it was a photo of Tank asleep on the couch he wasn't allowed on, with one ear folded.

I put my hand over my mouth.

The third text said: You looked at the clock at the park today when you thought nobody saw. I know when you're wanting it. I'll be good.

I read that one twice.

Then I flushed the toilet for no reason, washed my hands, and went back out to the dining room with my face arranged.

My sister had set the table with the good plates.

She is four years older than I am, married to a man who coaches Little League.

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