“Hi, Lola! It’s great to meet you,” Ava says.
“You too.”
“Lola, Lola, Lola,” Erin says, her hand on her hip. She glances at Tully and nods slowly. “Yep, I can see why you were such a tragic little puddle of feelings without her.”
My mouth drops, and Tully groans.
“You’ll never own a filter, will you?” he asks.
I burst out laughing.
“And why should I filter when the truth is so much more fun?” Erin grins. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Lola.” She points her thumb at Tully. “I think after Nantucket, that poor guy saw everything through slow-motion. Slogged his way through Windy Harbor like a sad puddle.”
Tully shoots Erin a look and then waves his arm. “How about we enjoy the festivities instead of talking about what a sad puddle I was?”
“Great idea,” Ava says, giving Erin a pointed look.
Erin seems unfazed, and I giggle again.
The arena is buzzing—music pumping, people milling around with drinks, and little kids running around everywhere. There are carnival-style games set up along the far wall, a raffle table covered with donated prizes, and a giant Movember banner stretched across the boards with a cartoonish mustache on it that makes Grandma Donna laugh every single time she looks at it.
“Oh! I almost forgot!” She holds up her bag. “I brought something for all of us…everyone except Tully, of course, because he’s all set already.”
She pulls out yellow and brown knitted things—I try to make out what they are, until Dylan snorts and places the band over his head, a brown knitted mustache fitting perfectly over his top lip. She hands them out to each of us, and we crack up, taking pictures with Tully in the middle.
We play everything. My favorites are the puck-shooting game and the trivia booth. Goldie and I partner up on trivia and win a huge gift basket with candles, hot sauce, and dish towels, the oddest collection of prizes I’ve ever seen, but Goldie and I are thrilled.
It’s loud and chaotic and fun, and I have laughed more today than I have in a long time.
And then the announcement comes over the PA system.
“Folks, get ready! It’s time for the Stache & Dash Derby! Dachshunds, line up on the ice.”
I turn to look at Dylan, whose face has split into the widest grin.
“Are you ready for this, Bill?” he asks, scooping up the mini dachshund in his arms. “You’re totally gonna win.”
Bill’s the size of a loaf of bread, but his eyes screamold soul.
Everett picks Kevin up when he strains against his leash, wanting to follow Bill. “Sadly, this is not for you. Your legs are too long for this race.”
“Oh my God, is this really happening?” I ask.
Tully leans in my ear, and I feel the brush of his lips. “Get ready to laugh your head off.”
I press my lips together and shiver.
“Will you be okay for a few minutes?” he asks. “I’ve gotta say a few words.”
“Of course.”
He nods and grins.
He follows Dylan and Chloe out there, high-fiving a few people he knows. The cuteness factor of those two tall, built men with that little girl between them is off the charts. I watch them, pressed in between Goldie and Everett, and I feel like I might actually die from how much I’m enjoying this. When Dylan sets Bill down, we laugh so hard at how serious the little dog looks.
The starting line is a row of dachshunds in tiny bandanas, all of them vibrating with an energy that suggests they understand this is a competition. Bill stands toward the end of the line. He’s wearing a green bandana and looks disturbingly focused for a dog shaped like a hot dog.
The horn goes off.