Page 24 of The New Place

A wonderful mistake. The best bit of pretend of his entire life. It wasn’t like he intentionally slept with a professor in his department. And then kept sleeping with him. Repeatedly, to his delight.

“Baxter and I absolutely called these two getting together,” Pat says and thumps Baxter’s side. “My man, you need a bath.”

“Yeah, you okay, buddy?” Claire kneels in front of him. “Where’s your cut? Oh, is that it right there? You poor thing.”

“Ned, wash your dog. Baxter, you’ve lost your shine,” Pat says.

“He’s fine. He’s clean. It’s just his winter coat,” Ned says. “And yes, that’s it. He’s okay, though, right? It’s mostly just a bump.”

“No, he’s definitely not as glossy as he usually is,” Pat says.

“Big ol’ belly you got here, Mr. Baxter,” Claire says, running her hands over him. “His face is fine. That’ll heal. But is his stomach always like this?”

“Look, we’re all just coming off the holidays,” Ned says.

Claire lifts Baxter’s lip to check his mouth, then looks in his ear. “How old is he?”

“Eight.”

“Hmm.”

“There’s nothing wrong with him,” Ned says. She knows this was just a pretense, right? She has to, with that flimsy-ass reason to bring her up here. She touched Pat’s arm. She’s probably just waiting for him and Abbot to finally leave.

“Anything show up on his annual bloodwork?” Claire starts feeling his belly again.

“Look, he’s great. We went running this morning, and then he crushed his breakfast and his water and took a hell of a nap.”

“You do get his blood checked every year, right? It’s a good idea, especially as they age.”

“He’s not old.”

“Eight isn’t young. I’d be happy to run some labs for him, if you want to bring him in.”

“You should take him in,” Pat says quickly. “Didn’t you just say you haven’t gotten a regular vet down in Boston yet?” Go with it, Pat’s face says, since they both know Ned said nothing of the sort.

Baxter is up to date on shots, healthy as can be, and Ned really doesn’t want to drag him to an appointment he doesn’t need just so Pat can have a weak excuse of a connection to Claire. Though once, Ned had stood in this same room, searching for any reason at all to talk to Abbot. “You know what? You’re right,” Ned says, and when Claire looks at Baxter’s teeth again, he mouths You really owe me to Pat. “I’d love to take you up on that.”

“Anytime.” Claire is apparently done with her impromptu exam, because she scratches Baxter behind the ears, and then settles on the couch.

On the cushion, not the arm.

Ned’s work here is over. She’s not leaving anytime soon, and whatever she and Pat get up to tonight, Ned’s done what he can. Time to make for the door and get his own evening underway. Finally. “Speaking of Bax, I think it’s dinnertime, bud,” Ned says.

“We should be going,” Abbot agrees.

Ned laces their fingers together. “Pat, catch you later.”

“You coming by in the morning?” Pat asks.

“I have to be back early,” Ned says. “Meeting first thing tomorrow. You coming down to Boston this weekend?”

Pat narrows his eyes. “What’s on the baking schedule?”

“Turnip cookies,” Ned says.

“That’s not a real thing.”

“You never know with the Swiss,” Ned says. He is a really, really good friend, he decides. Claire said the party was moving down there, didn’t she? “Grab a ride with Abbot on Friday.” Pat has to work, Ned is sure. But Pat is also really, really gone on Claire, because he nods so eagerly he nearly spills the beer in his bottle.