Page 26

The next morning, I was walking Cooper around the block. We were doing our usual morning loop, which he loved. I had my coffee in a travel mug. The air was cool, and the leaves on the maples along the street had turned gold and orange overnight.

Cooper was sniffing a mailbox post when Marshall appeared on my left, falling into step beside me like we'd been walking together every morning for years.

I stopped, but Cooper kept walking and the leash went taut between us.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Walking."

He wore his gray Enforcer sweatpants and a team t-shirt and his hands were in his pockets. He didn't have a coffee, his phone, or earbuds. His hair was messy, and there was a shadow of stubble on his jaw that wasn't there the last time I'd seen him this close. He looked tired.

"I was wondering if you'd like to come over for coffee?" he questioned.

"Why?"

"Because I owe you an apology. A real one. Not the kind I gave you in the coffee shop. A genuine apology that I should've given to you weeks ago."

I looked at him. He looked calm, maybe a bit nervous but his eyes held mine without flinching.

"What sort of apology?" I asked.

"From that first night I banged on your door. It wasn't Cooper." He said.

I looked at him and waited for him to continue.

"A few nights ago, when I got back from a road trip, I saw the woman down the street walking a Rottweiler. She was on her phone, and the dog went into someone else's yard and did his business, and she didn't bother to pick it up. She kept walking."

"So you're telling me you came to my door, accused my dog, and caused an entire scene, and it was someone else's dog the entire time?" I'd told him the truth, and he hadn't believed me, so he could sit in the discomfort of being wrong for a bit.

"Yes."

"And it took you this long to figure it out."

"Yes, and no."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, like I said, I've known for a bit."

"Oh, and you're apologizing to me now because you saw it happen, not because you thought I might have been telling you the truth and there was a possibility that you could be wrong."

I could tell he wanted to argue, point out to me he'd been busy, but he stood there and took it.

"That is completely fair. I'm here now though, and I'm telling you I was wrong. You told me there were other dogs in the neighborhood, aside from Cooper, and I didn't listen. I was angry at the situation, and I'm sorry for taking it out on you."

Cooper stopped and looked up at Marshall, his tail wagging. He nudged Marshall's hand with his head and Marshall reached down and scratched behind Cooper's ears, and Cooper leaned against him, his whole body pressed into him.

"Traitor." I said, as Cooper looked up at me.

The smartest thing I could have done was say I accepted his apology, refuse the coffee, and head back to my house. Instead, I nodded. "Fine, one coffee."

"Fair enough. Let's go."

Marshall's house was much quieter without the pounding music and the crew of hockey players inside. The house was cleaner than I'd expected. A gray couch, a coffee table with nothing on it, no art on the walls, no rugs. One photo in the kitchen that I could see from a distance, which I figured was of his family.

He went to work, making us a fresh coffee in a French press.

"My dad taught me." He said, catching me watching him measure out the beans. "Coffee is the one thing he is particular about. That and good fences." He said, winking, which made me smile.