“Bryn?” he asked finally.
Bryn
Yes?
“I’ve been home for more than two months now. Do you think I could sleep in my bed?” asked Papa.
Bryn was silent for a bit.
Bryn
Are you home for good?
“Yes,” said Papa. “For good.”
I let out a breath that I felt like I’d been holding for a long, long time.
Bryn
It’s a big bed. I’ll take the middle.
Papa grinned.
“Elinor was right,” he said. “I didn’t have to go away for magic.”
He began to laugh, so hard that Mama called up the stairs.
“What’s funny?” she asked.
Papa couldn’t speak. He walked down the stairs, followed by the dogs.
He put his arms around her until the dogs and I finally went away and left them alone.
Elinor was in the downstairs hallway. She wore a backpack and her crown.
“Papa heard the dogs,” I whispered.
Elinor nodded.
“Papa’s really home, isn’t he?” I asked no one.
Grace
Looks like it.
“I thought Mama would be next to hear the dogs,” I said.
Neo
Her mind is full.
“She is thinking about that baby all the time,” said Elinor.
I smiled at “that baby.”
“Mama would say ‘our baby,’” I said.
“That baby isn’t mine,” said Elinor.
Bitty
That’s what you think.
Lula, in Elinor’s backpack, peeked at me over Elinor’s shoulder.
“Lula’s my baby,” said Elinor.
“Soon you’ll have another,” I said.
“Twins,” announced Elinor with a bright smile.
Grace
We call it a litter.
Chapter 13
THERE WERE FLOWERS AGAIN, and a tablecloth and cloth napkins. There were cookies on the table.
Neo
Chocolate, please?
“Sorry, Neo,” said Papa. “You can have a dog biscuit, though.”
Neo
Better than nothing.
Grace
Not really.
“What’s happening?” asked Elinor, looking a bit scared.
“A serious family meeting?” I asked.
“Nothing bad,” said Papa.
“There’s news,” said Mama quickly. “It’s a boy.”
We stared at her for a moment before we realized that she meant the baby.
“So, I won’t have to share my princess dresses and fairy wings,” said Elinor.
“Maybe, maybe not,” Papa said.
“What will his name be?” I asked.
“Don’t know. Anyone have some favorite names?” asked Papa.
Elinor ticked some names off on her fingers: “Sam, Nicholas, Honest, Useful, and Weenie,” she said.
“I’m not sure a boy would like to be called Weenie Watson,” Papa said.
“Or Useful,” said Mama, getting up slowly. Her back hurt, and she took naps in the afternoons.
“I’ll sleep for a bit. Then I’ll cook dinner,” she said.
“No,” said Papa. “I’m going to make raspberry fettuccine.”
Mama grinned and went off to her nap.
Grace
I knew a very nice dog named Nicholas once.
“I like Nicholas,” said Papa.
“I do too,” I said. “Nicholas. Nicky.”
Bryn
I vote for Zachary or Theodore or Henry. Or Thomas or James or Liam. Or Rufus or Pepper.
Bitty
What’s wrong with the name Bitty?
Neo
It’s your name.
Papa smiled at Bitty.
“Bitty is a very nice name for you,” he said kindly.
Bitty
Thank you.
“I still like Weenie,” said Elinor.
Papa’s writing room was all ready: paintings on the walls, bookshelves with books, a small couch, an Oriental rug, an easy chair, a desk, and his computer and printer. Papa bought many packages of printing paper and lugged them up the stairs. Then Papa sat at his desk doing nothing.
The dogs were amused.
Neo
All ready except for the writing.
“I heard that,” said Papa with a small smile. “Do I have to shut you all out of my room?”
Grace
Not a good idea.
Bitty
We’ll watch you, waiting for the magic.
Papa turned and stared at Bitty.
Neo
Better write that down.
Papa looked at the dogs. Then, as if he had Elinor’s magic wand in his hand, he waved a pencil over the dogs. One by one by one they lay down.
Papa grinned at me. He turned and began to type. I could see see the words on the computer screen.
WAITING FOR THE MAGIC.
Chapter 14
PAPA WROTE AND WROTE during the next month. The dogs clattered up and down the stairs, spending mornings with him.
“The dogs are my muse,” said Papa.
“What’s a muse?” asked Elinor.
“My inspiration,” said Papa. “I write better when they are here.”
“The dogs are up here all the time,” Elinor complained.
She had on her new preschool clothes, a plaid dress with tights and velcro sneakers. Tomorrow was the beginning of preschool. My school began in a week.
“They’re here every single day,” she said in a whiny voice.
Neo
Whining is not lovely.
“I like whining,” said Elinor.
Bitty
Beware of the Whining Fairy.
“Who is that?” asked Elinor.
Bitty
She comes in the night when you’re sleeping and spits in your face. Spit, spit, spit.
Elinor’s eyes grew wide. Papa and I burst out laughing, and Elinor laughed too.
“That’s why you’re my muse, Bitty,” said Papa.
“I want a muse,” said Elinor.
“You don’t need a muse, sweet girl,” said Papa. “Now go away so I can write about the Whining Fairy who spits in your face while you sleep.”
We went downstairs, laughing.
Marvelous Murphy came bringing “alternative foods,” as my grandfather called them; mysterious casseroles with what looked like ferns and zinnias in them.
“You shouldn’t be cooking, dearie,” she said.
“Oh, I hardly cook at all,” said Mama. “Joe is the master cook here.”
“He’s making noodles and maple syrup tonight,” said Elinor.
“Oh no. That doesn’t sound healthy,” said Marvelous, swishing around the kitchen. “Hello, charming dogs,” she said.
Neo
Hello, you charmingly wacky woman.
Elinor and I laughed because we knew Mama and Marvelous didn’t hear him. They smiled at our laughing anyway.
“And when is this baby arriving?” asked Marvelous.
“Whenever he chooses to arrive,” said Mama.
Suddenly I felt cold. I felt afraid for Mama.
“What’s wrong, William?” said Mama.
I shrugged, afraid to speak. And Marvelous saved me from answering by bustling noisily around the kitchen, brewing what Papa called her “weed tea.”
“I’ve written a poem for little Joseph,” said Marvelous.
She whipped out a paper and leaned against the kitchen counter.
“Who’s little Joseph?” I asked.
“The baby,” said Marvelous. “He will probably be named after his father.”
“Oh no,” said Elinor. “His name will be Weenie Watson.”
Marvelous, for the first time in her life, was silent. Her mouth stayed open.
Neo
If I could I would laugh.
Grace
Tha
t is the hardest thing about being a dog.
Bitty
Except for not being able to open cans of dog food.
It was quiet in the kitchen then, Mama smiling at Elinor, and Marvelous unable to speak.
Bryn said it.
Bryn
Peaceful.
Chapter 15
WE LOVED NOODLES and maple syrup for dinner. Elinor made a salad all on her own of ripped lettuce, some small pieces, some huge, baby carrots she hadn’t cut because she was too young for a knife, cherry tomatoes, and something else.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Popcorn,” said Elinor.
“Quite good, Elinor,” said Mama. “I thought I smelled popping corn.”
“Surprisingly good,” said Papa.
Bryn
Sounds good to me.
Grace
And me.
Papa leaned over and picked a piece of paper off the floor. He held it up for Mama to see.
“That is the beginning of Marvelous’s poem to little Joseph,” she said.
“Who is little Joseph?” asked Papa.
“Weenie,” said Elinor.
Papa read:
“Oh, dear little Joseph,
sweet and pink and round . . .”
“Sounds like a plum,” said Papa.
Bryn
Or a candied apple.
Grace
What do you know about candied apples?
Bryn
I ate one off a sidewalk once.
Grace walked over to Papa and took the paper out of his hands. She dropped it in the wastebasket.
“I love you, Grace,” Mama said. “Thank you.”
Grace
My pleasure. It is bad writing.
We all smiled. But only Mama thought we were smiling at her.
And then all the lazy days were over. The nights grew a little colder. Soon it would be fall. Elinor went off to preschool all dressed up. Max and I went to fifth grade to find that we had the same teacher as we did in fourth grade. That made us happy. Ms. Braden was smart, and she could shoot baskets at recess time better than any of us. She never missed a free throw. Papa went back to his classes at the college.
That left Mama home with the dogs.
I know they watched her. I know they kept her company. I know Bryn took naps with her, gracefully stretched out on the bed beside Mama.
Still I worried. Maybe worry was not the word. I was afraid about Mama going to the hospital.
I came home from school each day afraid that she might have gone. First I would see Bitty watching out the front window, sometimes jumping up and down when he saw me. Neo met me at the door, nosing my hand. I’d find Grace, Bryn, and Mama, the three females, keeping watch together in the kitchen. Waiting.
Since Papa taught classes during the day, he wrote at night now, the splash of lamplight falling down the wooden stairs. Sometimes I could hear the soft clicking of the computer keys. Sometimes I’d walk quietly up the stairs, and the dogs, lying on the Oriental rug, would turn their heads to look at me.
It was like I had four sisters, Elinor, Bryn, Grace, and Lula, two brothers, Neo and Bitty, with another to come.
Chapter 16
LEAVES WERE BEGINNING TO FALL. When Papa and I walked the dogs, their legs rustled up leaves with enough noise so that Papa and I didn’t talk. I liked walking with Papa and not talking. Even the dogs didn’t talk. Outside, around other dogs, they acted more like dogs than people: sniffing, playing, falling down, pretending to be submissive, growling, and all those dog things. Ruby, the Boston terrier, was at the park. She raced around and around.
Grace sat like a queen and watched.
“If Grace could roll her eyes she would,” said Papa as we sat on a park bench.
“Magic,” I said. “I never believed in magic.”
“Neither did I,” said Papa. “Not until I came home.”
Except for Ruby, it was very quiet in the park.
“For a while I didn’t miss you when you were gone,” I said suddenly. “When the dogs first came.”
“I can understand that,” said Papa, turning to look down at me. “I meant it when I said they are better family than I’ve been.”
“And I was angry that Elinor had to dream about you at night instead of flowers and fairies and magic,” I said.
“But now,” I said, “I would miss you if you went away.”
I could feel tears in my eyes.
Neo, as he always did, put his paw in my lap.
Papa put his arm around me, and the dogs all looked at him.
“I would miss you, too, William. Which is why I’ll never go away again,” said Papa. “Ever.”
Everything was still, then Bitty, because he couldn’t stand it anymore, raced off after Ruby. We sat with the rest of the dogs as leaves drifted down around us like feathers.
Chapter 17
WINTER CAME WITH WINDS and early spits of snow. The dogs disliked the cold, except for Neo who loved it all. Even with their colorful knitted coats, Grace, Bryn, and Bitty complained when Papa and I walked them home from the dog park.
Neo
Stop whining. Remember the Whining Fairy.
Bitty
She doesn’t fly in winter.
Bryn
Her wings would freeze.
Grace
Fairy wings never freeze.
Papa laughed. “You’re quite the storytellers, you dogs,” he said.
Neo
No, you’re the storyteller.
“I wonder,” said Papa thoughtfully.
Papa had been writing through the days, when he wasn’t teaching classes, and late at night. Sometimes in the early morning, when it was still dark, I’d hear the clicking of his fingers on the keyboard. It was a comforting sound in a funny way. That clicking sound meant he was there.
The snow started to come down harder, covering the sidewalks. I looked behind me and saw all the footprints we made, two people walking, and the many prints of dogs: Neo’s large prints, Bryn and Grace’s smaller, and Bitty’s the smallest, making a design of hopping and jumping.
Papa turned to see what I was looking at. We smiled at each other. He took my hand as we walked. Snow began to blanket the dogs, a soft cover of it on Neo’s head.
When we got to our house the door opened suddenly and Elinor stood there, her eyes big and frightened.
“What?” said Papa quickly.
“Mama’s packing,” said Elinor.
The dogs ran past us into the house, shaking snow all over Elinor and the hallway. Bryn was in Mama’s bedroom when we got there.
“Janey?” said Papa, going over to put his arms around her.
“I think it is about time to go,” said Mama, trying to close her suitcase.
“Wait!” said Elinor, running out of the room.
Mama straightened up and then began to laugh as the dogs crowded into the bedroom.
Elinor ran back into the room with her see-through fairy wings.
“Take these with you,” said Elinor. “You won’t forget me. And Weenie might like them.”
“I won’t forget you,” said Mama, giving Elinor a hug. “We’ll leave them here until he’s old enough. And it is not to be Weenie.”
Gran and Grandfather stood in the doorway.
“Would you like a few more people in here?” said Grandfather.
“Come, come everyone,” said Gran. “Let’s leave Janey and Joe for a bit. We’ll see what’s in the kitchen for dinner.”
We followed Gran and Grandfather out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.
Grandfather peered into the refrigerator.
“What is this?” he asked, holding up Marvelous Murphy’s alternative dinner.
“Marvelous brought it,” I said.
“It has flowers in it!” said Grandfather.
He took it over to the trash and dropped it in.
“Oops,” he said.
Neo
Good job.
/> “Thanks, Neo,” said Grandfather.
I’d never heard Grandfather talk with the dogs before.
He saw my look.
“They, the dogs, are very good conversationalists,” he said. “Better than most humans.”
“True,” I said. “What about pizza? We can order it delivered.”
“Yay,” said Elinor.
Bitty
Could we have anchovies?
Grace, Bryn, Neo
No!
Mama and Papa came into the kitchen to say good-bye.
Mama hugged me.
“It’s fine, William. Soon I’ll be home again.”
“I’ll call you,” said Papa.
Lula came into the kitchen and rubbed against Mama’s legs.
“Bye, dogs. Bye, Lula,” she said. “Thanks, Mom and Dad.”
“Go, go,” said Gran. “I’ll have a baby blanket finished by the time you get home.”
“She will, you know,” said Grandfather.
And then they were gone. Elinor and I and the dogs watched through the front window as they drove off in the snow.
“It’s okay, Elinor,” I said, not really believing my own words.
“I know,” said Elinor.
But she leaned against me until the dogs told us it was time for their dinners.
We ate our pizza. It was growing dark now. It seemed a long time ago that Papa and I had walked the dogs in the snowy park.
“Can I sleep with you?” Elinor asked me.
She wore her white nightgown with brown rabbits all over it.
“Yes,” I told her.
Gran knitted away in the living room and Grandfather read the paper with Bitty on his lap.
“The news is not very interesting today,” said Grandfather to Bitty. “I’ll read the comics out loud.”
Bitty
I can’t laugh, you know.
“That’s all right,” said Grandfather. “They aren’t very funny anyway.”
It was very late. Everyone was asleep but me. Gran and Grandfather had gone to bed in the guest room. Elinor was in my bed, sleeping with Lula. Neo was there, and Bitty. I had watched the moon come up and move across my window into the white branches of the maple tree.
Suddenly I heard the phone ring in the hallway. I jumped up and ran to answer it.
“Hello.”
“William!” said Papa. I could hear both tears and laughter in his voice.
“Nicholas is here.”