Kylie Cantrall's Arc

Chapter 25 of 78

Kylie's mother came back inside and set the phone on the counter. "Done. They know the song exists. The date holds until the fifteenth." She picked up the bread knife again. "Eat something." Kylie couldn't eat. The tickets sat next to the roses. A month from now, a ship. A month from now, a puppy who screamed through every taxi ride. Kylie looked under the table. The shiba lay curled against Arianna's shoe, asleep now, safe now. He hadn't been safe in the car on Monday. Arianna had carried him inside shaking, his paws scraping her collarbone. "He can't do the drive to the port," Kylie said. Arianna followed her eyes. "I know." "Four hours in a car. He'll break." Kylie pushed her plate away. "We have four weeks. I want to fix it before we go." Her mother sliced the bread. "Then fix it." Kylie carried the puppy to the garage that afternoon. She did not start the car. She opened the back door, spread a blanket on the seat, and set him on it with a strip of cheese. He ate the cheese. He sniffed the seatbelt. She lifted him out before he could remember to be afraid. They did it again after dinner. And the next morning. And every morning that week. Arianna sat in the back with him. Kylie sat in the driver's seat with the engine off. Cheese, then chicken, then his own toy. On day four Kylie turned the key. The puppy flinched. Arianna hummed the chorus of their song, low, the note she'd hit clean on Saturday. He settled. On day nine they drove to the end of the driveway and back. On day fourteen they made it to the gate. On day twenty they reached the coffee stand two miles out. The puppy slept the last half mile with his chin on Arianna's knee. The morning of the drive to the port, Kylie loaded the car herself. Her mother stood on the step with her arms crossed, watching. The puppy walked to the open door and jumped in. He did not shake. He circled the blanket twice and lay down. "Well," her mother said. Kylie shut the door softly. Arianna handed her the tickets through the window. On the dock hours later, the ship rose in front of them, all painted color and stacked balconies, bigger than the block Kylie grew up on. The puppy stood at Arianna's feet and looked up at it without a sound. "He's coming," Arianna said. "He's coming," Kylie said. A porter took their bags. Kylie's phone buzzed in her pocket. Her mother's name. Then a second buzz. The label. Then a third, a name Kylie hadn't seen in a year. Malia. She turned the screen face down against her palm and stepped toward the gangway.