Chapter Twenty-One
Becky didn’t trust herself to speak on the drive over to the shelter. She wasn’t mad at Foster specifically, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was his fault. It wasn’t. Of course it wasn’t. As a concession to her irrationality, she let him keep his hand on her knee as he drove. She covered it with her own hand, squeezed. Because he was just as pissed and tense as she was.
Madison, in her infinite teenage wisdom, had wanted to show her friends where she’d been doing her community service, so she’d broken them in to the shelter. She wanted to throw a party for the dogs.
The kids were drunk. And stoned. And really annoying, according to Dakota, but that was secondary to their actual criminal behavior.
As they pulled in the driveway, she only saw one car there. It must have been Bullhorn’s, because that was who she saw wrestling a much taller guy out the front door and onto the nearest bench. She saw him point and give him a stay, and the guy sat there with his head hanging down.
Foster was out of the car almost before he put it in park. He charged past Bullhorn—Becky doubted he even recognized his old friend—and was in the shelter before she had the car door closed.
“What happened?”
“Stupid kids tore the place up. This asshole was getting into the Puppy Chow.”
“I’m hungry,” the asshole whined.
“You’ve got the munchies, asshole. It’ll pass.”
“How’s Dakota?”
“As of three minutes ago, I was pretty confident her rage had cooled down from murderous to just maiming levels. Then this asshole wouldn’t keep his trap shut, so I figured it was safer for me to get him away from Dakota than it was for me to hang around inside.”
“You want me to sit outside and watch him?” she offered.
“Nah. I’ve got his keys. He can run if he wants to; he won’t get far.”
The asshole had slumped over onto the bench and started snoring.
Bullhorn shrugged and Becky followed him inside.
Inside was a mess.
There were streamers all over the reception area, pens and markers and scissors all over the floor. Becky climbed over the detritus back to the cages, where Maddie was sitting on the floor with another guy and a girl, the three of them stifling giggles while several loose dogs chowed down on the spilled kibble everywhere.
Dakota and Foster were next door, struggling to attach a wire door to one of the cages. A few others hung open and looked beyond repair.
“Babe, come on.” Bullhorn took Dakota’s place, and together he and Foster muscled the door back onto its spring-mounted hinges.
“You OK?” Becky asked Dakota.
Dakota wiped her eyes. “Other than being so angry I could murder those . . . they wanted to let all the dogs out.”
“What? Did they?”
“No, thank God. Bullhorn and I got here just as they were letting them out of their cages. The tall one managed to break a couple of the doors. Because animals shouldn’t be caged up, he said. As if this is a fucking animal research facility! These are fucking homeless dogs!”
Becky rubbed Dakota’s arms and she took a deep breath. “Sorry. I’m pissed. I think I scared Foster.”
“He’ll be OK. What did Maddie say?”
Dakota snorted. “As soon as I realized I wasn’t getting a coherent word out of her, I told her and her friends to stay the hell out of my way.”
“Why is there food everywhere?”
“Oh, you didn’t hear? It was also a birthday party, so they opened five twenty-pound bags of kibble and spread it all over the floor, then let the dogs go to town. So now, after we get the cages fixed, I’m going to have to walk twenty-seven dogs.”
“I’ll stay and help.”
“Thanks. Let me take a couple of them out now. Can you sweep up the other room?”
Becky gave Dakota a big squeeze, then let her go take care of business.
“I’m going to take Maddie home,” Foster told her. “Do you mind hanging out here? There isn’t enough room in the car for all of them and you.”
“Sure. I told Dakota I’d help for a while. And you and Maddie probably need some time to talk.”
He snuffed out a humorless laugh. “Did you see her in there? There’s not going to be any talking to her tonight. I’ll let her crash at my place and she can face Andrew and Lydia tomorrow.”
“Oh.”
“What? I can see you’re thinking something. Just tell me.”
“I thought you were trying to be a positive influence on Maddie.”
He arched his eyebrow at her. “Are you saying this is my fault?”
“No! No, but . . . if you just drop her off at your parents’, they’re not going to do anything. It just seems like . . . like you guys are actually letting her get away with all this.”
“And what do you suggest we do instead?”
“Hold on, no. I’m not going to try to tell you what to do. It’s just . . . I know Maddie a little, and I know what it’s like to be a teenage girl. She’s going to keep pushing and keep screwing up if she doesn’t think anyone cares that she keeps screwing up.”
“Of course I care. I had to come out here in the middle of the night when I could have been having sex with my girlfriend. Instead, I’m picking up my stoned sister while my girlfriend tells me how I should handle her.”
“I’m not—”
“You probably shouldn’t be the one giving out advice on how to deal with sisters, you know.”
Ouch. That one stung. “It’s not about me . . .”
“Exactly.”
“Foster—”
“Listen, I’m really pissed right now and I’m going to say something I’ll regret . . .”
“Like what? Like I have a fucked-up family so I have no place having a conversation with my boyfriend?”
“Yeah, and like how you should mind your own damn business. I’m dealing with it, Becky.”
“Like the way you dealt with finding her with drugs on Thanksgiving? By patting her on the head and pretending it didn’t happen?”
“I wasn’t the only one who ate that brownie.”
“Look, I know you love your sister and you want to be a friend to her because she feels alone in the world, but you’re letting her off the hook here. At the very least you’re coddling her, but at the worst, you’re enabling her.”
“I’m enabling her? Really. By being here for her when she gets in trouble?”
“No, by not making her face the consequences. What if one of the dogs had bitten someone? What if one of her friends, I don’t know, climbed onto a rock and cracked their skull open? What if the cops had showed up? Would you just take her home and put her to bed?”
“I said I would deal with it.”
“She needs help, Foster. Like, real help.”
“Thank you. I’ve got it from here.”
The sounds of three messed-up teenagers singing a barely recognizable pop song drifted in from the next room, accompanied by a variety of dog howls.
If Becky wasn’t so tense, she’d make a joke about how Maddie was a worse singer than he was.
Foster ran his hand through his hair in that frustrated way he had. “I better get them out of here before Dakota kills somebody.”
She nodded and watched him go. She heard him dragging Maddie out of the shelter and assumed the other two followed. Her heart went out to him, really it did. But he was right. This wasn’t her family to deal with. She needed to mind her own business. She went in search of a broom.