Dinner and a… Dog?
Short Story
Age Group: Adult
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Summary: Delany misses her chance with Mateo, but Mateo’s dog Luis isn’t ready to give up on them.
Dinner and a… Dog? placed 4th in its group in round one of the NYC Midnight Short Story Contest, 2023.
Five minutes before closing, Purple Ribbon dog chow showered Delany. Kibble sneaked into her hair and vest and down her shirt as she tried to cover the hole in the thirty-pound bag on the shelf above her, but half the contents already littered aisle twelve.
A man and his golden retriever browsed toys at the end of the aisle. The instant the food bag ripped, the dog yanked free of his owner and raced toward the mess.
Seventy pounds of fur barreled into Delany, and she tumbled to the floor, hands up to protect her face as the animal licked crumbs off her vest before diving into the spilled food.
“Luis, no!” The dog’s owner grabbed him by the collar and dragged him out of the kibble pile. “Why you knock down this lady, pendejo? I’m disappointed in you.”
Despite his owner’s rebuke, the dog appeared unrepentant as he wagged his tail, waiting to be released so he could steal another bite of free food.
“I’m so sorry.” The man kept a tight grip on Luis’ leash as he offered Delany his other hand. “He’s been a mischief maker since he was a puppy. Sometimes he trades my newspaper for our neighbors’ things. Just this week, I’ve returned two packages, a shoe, and a plastic flamingo.”
Delany stood with the stranger’s help while both of them tried not to slip on loose kibble.
“I’m Mateo. You’ve already met Luis. Are you all right?” The genuine concern in his voice made Delany smile. He reminded her of her first crush back in middle school—skin the color of coffee after a few spoonfuls of creamer, a kind expression, and the tendency to talk to animals as if they were people.
“No permanent damage.” To stem the pink rising in her cheeks, she brushed off dust and stray crumbs. Several dozen kibble bits escaped her vest and shirt, scattering when they hit the floor. “You… still get the newspaper? Isn’t it easier to just skim internet headlines?”
“I suppose.” With one shoe, he herded spilled food into a pile. “But there’s something about holding a printed paper.” The look on his face said he was rehearsing fond memories. “Besides, I like the articles in the paper better.”
The notices on her phone did tend toward the over-dramatic.
Luis whined as Mateo swept the last of the kibble out of reach.
“I don’t think so, amigo. I bring you here to pick something you like, not eat food that isn’t yours and attack the pretty lady.”
Just when she’d thought her face had reverted to normal shade, another flush of color invaded her cheeks. No one had called her pretty in years. “That’s sweet of you to let him pick his own toys. Most owners don’t do that.”
Mateo’s warm smile reached his eyes. “Luis is a good dog—when he isn’t making mischief.” He brushed crumbs off the dog’s muzzle. “He deserves a little something now and then.” He nodded to the shelves of stacked food bags. “I see you here every time I get Luis’ food. You stock shelves every day?”
“Five days a week.” She nudged a leaning bag back into place.
The man tapped Luis’ nose. “You see? The lady does all this work keeping things in stock, and you interrupt her. She deserves something nice more than you do.” He sneaked a glance at Delany. “Maybe a dinner at Chianina? Unless she would prefer someplace else, of course.”
He couldn’t be serious, asking her, a total stranger, to dinner. No one had asked her to go anywhere with them since high school.
“I… should clean up this spill.” She beelined for safety behind the Employees Only door.
When she was out of Mateo’s view, she peered through the little plastic window in the middle of the door.
Mateo stood guard over the loose food while Luis tried to snag a few pieces of dog chow every three seconds. Mateo chided Luis in Spanish, but the golden retriever paid him no mind.
Other employees grabbed lunch boxes, jackets, and personal items from the lockers down the hall before clocking out for the night. If she wanted to leave on time, she’d have to go back out there, no matter how much the thought made her heart stutter.
To stall, she shook the last of the dog food out of her polo. She’d need a new shirt soon. This one was getting threadbare near the hem, but she hated shopping. Finding XL shirts that weren’t either bland or ridiculous was a challenge she wasn’t often up to after a long day at work.
Face still warm from Mateo’s surprise question, she headed for the maintenance area and retrieved a broom, dustpan, and trash bag. When she reached the door to the sales floor, she froze, hand raised to push it open. A handful of other employees passed her, and the door almost knocked her in the face on its backswing. Not wanting to add a bruised nose to today’s mishaps, Delany caught the door and braved stepping out.
“Thanks for watching this.” She kept her eyes on the pile of food as she shoveled dirty dog chow into the trash bag. Despite not knowing what to say to Mateo asking her to dinner, every time she caught glimpses of him in her periphery, she wanted to smile.
When she’d cleared the floor, she tied the bag shut and fished a Milk-Bone from her pocket. “Can Luis have this?”
When Luis saw the dog biscuit, he yipped and danced circles around Mateo.
“Oh, you make the lady’s job harder and expect a reward?” Mateo crouched in front of Luis and framed the dog’s face with his hands. “You are silly perro. No?”
Luis wagged his tail.
Mateo shook his head. “Two years and still you are not good at answering questions.”
Delany trapped a grin, but one corner of her lips tugged upward, and the urge rose to accept his dinner invitation. She wouldn’t have to drive far. Chianina was only a few blocks down the road.
“But I suppose he can have a treat. If he is sorry for causing more trouble.” Mateo stood and gave Luis a command in Spanish. The dog bowed his head and covered his nose with one paw, but both eyes fixed on Delany’s hand and the Milk-Bone.
The firm but calm way Mateo handled Luis was reassuring. She still wasn’t sure how to answer him, but if she told him no, she was confident he’d accept her answer.
At Mateo’s signal, Luis dropped his paw and became a ball of excitement until Delany gave him the dog biscuit.
Mateo reached for the trash bag. “I can carry that if you like.” His fingers brushed Delany’s, and she startled at his touch.
“No, I’ll get it.” She pulled the bag closer, so his hand was no longer near hers, but her skin still prickled from the brief contact. “Customers aren’t allowed in the back. But thank you.”
Mateo slipped his free hand into the pocket of his jeans. “Okay. If you’re sure.” He seemed downcast, as if he’d taken her words as a rejection, not just for his help, but his dinner invitation too.
“No. I mean yes. Yes, I’m sure.” Delany hurried into the backroom before she could trip over her words again. She wanted so badly to accept his invitation, make it clear her refusal of help was strictly to avoid getting frowned at by management.
She dumped the trash bag in the bins near the compactor and took an extra moment to wave off the lingering stink of garbage before returning to the sales floor.
The manager’s voice came on overhead. “Customers, the store is closed for the day. Please make your purchases and exit through the front. We appreciate your business. Have a good night.”
Delany tried to take measured breaths as she headed for aisle twelve, but Mateo and Luis weren’t there.
She searched nearby aisles, pace quickening the closer she got to the front door. They weren’t in any of the aisles or at the displays near the front, and the only people in line at the last open register were a woman in her 80s and two college kids buying turtle food.
It had only been a minute or two since she left Mateo and Luis. They had to be in the parking lot.
She stepped into the warm evening air. A Prius and an orange Fiesta were the only customer vehicles still parked, but a black Tacoma was just pulling into traffic. A golden retriever had his head out the passenger window.
She wanted to cry. Mateo had been so thoughtful and genuine, and because she wasn’t brave enough to say yes to one question, she’d missed her chance to learn more about him. She’d spend another night watching Petsitters USA and cooking dinner alone.
~ *~*~
Thursday morning, as Delany waited on a sausage biscuit to heat up, loud scratching at the door overrode the microwave’s drone.
Probably a raccoon or opossum, but she didn’t want whatever it was tearing up her door.
When she checked her doorbell camera app, a wall of fur and the occasional appearance of a curious black nose obscured her view.
Someone’s dog had decided to claim her front step.
For the past two days, every dog she heard or saw was a reminder of her failure to accept Mateo’s dinner invitation.
With a sigh, she ignored the microwave when it dinged and headed to the door to see which neighbor she needed to call.
Sitting on her Welcome mat, holding a cassette tape and case in his mouth, was a golden retriever. His leash was tangled so badly it would take five minutes to undo. He wagged his tail and stared up at her expectantly.
“Hey, sweetie.” She cautiously extended a hand to the dog. When he didn’t snap at her, she scratched his ears before checking his collar. “You’ve got the wrong house.”
The dog wagged his tail so fast his front paws alternately left the ground, and he had an impish light in his eyes.
“L-Luis?” She double-checked the collar tag. “What are you doing here?” She wanted to hug the dog, but gingerly wiggled the cassette from his mouth instead. “Best of Enrique Nunez: Polkas from Antarctica to Iceland? What is this?” She opened the tape case, and sure enough, the contents matched the label. “Luis, is this Mateo’s?” When she said the man’s name, the memory of his brief touch returned to her hand. She tried to rub the sensation away, but it lingered.
There was no phone number or address on Luis’ tag, but the dog wasn’t dirty or tired, so he couldn’t have traveled far, which meant Mateo lived nearby.
Even though humidity was unseasonably low this morning, breathing became harder than necessary, and Delany’s chest filled with butterflies as she loaded Luis into her white Ranger. When she climbed into the driver’s seat, her legs turned rubbery, and it was all she could do to start the truck and put it in gear. “You can’t run away like this. Mateo… Mateo’s going to be very worried.”
Luis woofed and pawed the passenger window until Delany rolled it halfway down for him.
As she pulled out of her driveway and onto Hartford, Luis stuffed his nose into the pocket of her work vest, which was still draped over the seat he occupied. He was probably hunting for more Milk-Bones.
“You look innocent, but you don’t miss anything, do you?” Delany stopped at the corner of Fairdale Court and Lynwood. “I wish you could tell me where you live.”
Even though Luis seemed to remember her, it was silly to think Mateo would. She was just a stranger he’d met at the pet store—no more memorable than someone he’d passed on the street. But as she cruised down Lynwood, she couldn’t keep from smiling at the way Mateo had tried to help her with the spilled dog food, called her pretty—even if he was only talking to Luis when he’d said it.
When she found nothing on Lynwood, she backtracked onto Fairdale. Three minutes later, the last house on the street came into view. In its driveway sat a black Tacoma.
Delany had to grip the steering wheel harder to calm nervous hands, and when a man in jeans and a gray shirt hurried from the house, she fumbled to roll down her window. “M-Mateo?”
By the time she got his name out, he was about to get into his truck, but at her voice, he turned.
“Delany?”
He’d remembered her name.
“I h-have Luis.” She pointed to the passenger’s seat with one shaking hand, though she did her best to hide the anxious tremor.
“Oh, thank you. Thank you so much!” He rounded the Ranger and let Luis out. “I’m very sorry he caused you more trouble. He ran away when I was walking him earlier. I waited for him to come back, but when he didn’t, I…” Mateo secured the dog’s tangled leash to his wrist. “I’m glad you found him.” He wagged a finger at Luis. “You are much trouble. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were raised by cats, amigo.”
Delany couldn’t hold in her laugh.
Mateo pointed to Luis as the dog tried to tangle them both in what little leash remained unknotted. “He has no shame.”
“No, he doesn’t.” She took the cassette from her pocket. “He brought me this.” She extended the tape to Mateo. “I had no idea they had polka in Antarctica.”
Mateo accepted the tape. “Enrique Nunez? Oh, this is a good one. You have to hear it sometime. Tonight, maybe?”
Once again, he’d caught her off-guard.
“I—I’d… like that,” she stammered.
Mateo’s wide grin was infectious. “You eat ribs? Mine are the best. Guaranteed.”
At the word ribs, Luis ran in limited circles until he had no more leash.
“If Luis likes them that much, who am I to say no?” Delany replied.
“You like guacamole?” The way he said the word made it sound spicy and exotic.
“Never tried it.”
Luis barked, as if giving his personal stamp of approval for the guacamole too.
“I’ll make some. You’ll love it.” His smile wrinkled the corners of his brown eyes.
“Looking forward to it. See you tonight?”
“7:30?”
Delany nodded. “I’ll be here.”
Dinner and a… Dog is Ⓒ D. T. Powell, 2023.