A Soft Place to Land: Chapters 22–36

I pace next to the tree because I’m too anxious to stand still.

Then I say, “I’m worried the other kids are going to hate me. I mean, the Hideout was our sanctuary, and now it’s gone.”

Ziggy, done doing his business, looks up at us expectantly.

It was bad enough having the other kids ignore me. But after my fight with Nora, the thought of standing alone at the bus stop is unbearable.

I bring Ziggy to the vestibule that leads to outside.

She wouldn’t ditch walking dogs because of our fight yesterday, would she? That would be so... petty.

That’s one of Joyful Dog Walkers’ mottos—Leave No Poop Behind.

Sheets of rain come down, making the ground slippery. It’s hard to see far in front of me. Thankfully I know this route well enough, so we forge ahead.

I wring out my T-shirt and wipe my face with the back of my hand. My hair is sopping wet, too, so I quickly squeeze out as much water as I can.

He’s holding a walkie-talkie, which beeps and makes a static sound.

The guilt overwhelms me.

Instead, I go out onto the small terrace and sit on the folding chair we have out there.

We walk around both the small and big loops, searching every nook and cranny.

“I’ll be there,” he says without hesitation.

I’m standing in front of twenty or so people in the lobby. It’s a pretty good turnout, especially since this search party came together last minute.

My hands are clammy because I don’t love having to speak in front of a group of people, especially so many adults.

Everyone starts eating it, but the mood in the room is grim.
“This is hopeless,” I say out loud, to nobody.

You know, dogs are resourceful animals. They always manage to find a safe space when they need one.

She’s conservative with her spending, and usually only wants to pay for repairs and such.

It took her a while to finally renovate the lobby.

I’m too antsy to sit.

The Hideout was there when I needed to get away from my parents’ arguments. When I needed a place to be alone. It was the place where I could have fun with my new friends. And the place where I could write notes and open up to...Nora. It was our secret refuge.

I turn on my movie score playlist, and we sand them down, paint primer on them, and then add a coat of the yellow paint.

“It’s for when your movie is done,” I say. “You can debut it down here for our friends. We can even get dressed up and create a red carpet. And of course, I’ll help you with the movie score...if you still want me to.”

“I want you to know,” Mom says, “we loved our house, too, and wish we didn’t have to sell it. But we did it so you can have a better life in the long run. So we can be financially stable. I still hope to get a promotion at work. And your dad and Spencer have been working really hard on their company.”