Read Confectionately Yours #4: Something New for Free Online

show it. And his dad —” Omar stops, like he doesn’t really think he should say more. I understand. These aren’t really his secrets to be sharing.
    “I won’t tell anyone,” I say. “But I’ll push Meg to get behind the tutoring program.”
    “I’ll do it myself, if I have to,” Omar says, and his voice is like a promise.
    “Eeee!” The Tea Room door bangs open and Chloe rushes out, trailed by our mom. And she plops right down in front of the miniature pinscher and starts patting her. The dog jumps up and licks her cheek, and Chloe giggles. She scoops the dog into her arms like a baby doll.
    “Oh, she’s cute,” my mom says.
    “I saw your doggie through the window!” Chloe exclaims.“Oh, you’re so soft!” The dog wiggles happily, licking her arm.
    “She isn’t my dog,” Omar explains. “I volunteer at the animal shelter.”
    “I love dogs!” Chloe gushes. “So — wait — is this dog up for adoption?”
    Omar grins as my mother says, “Oh, no.”
    “Please?” My little sister gives my mom the Big Bunny Eyes look.
    “No, absolutely not.” Mom shakes her head, but she doesn’t sound as firm as she should, in my opinion.
    “But look at how sweet she is!” Chloe insists. Now even the dog is giving my mom the Big Bunny Eyes.
    “Chloe, we have a small apartment —” Mom says.
    “Well, this is a small dog,” Omar points out. “And you could think about fostering her instead of adopting.”
    “What’s the difference?” I ask. I’m not liking this at all.
    “You would just take care of her for a while, until the shelter finds her a new home,” Omar explains. “The shelter loves to put the dogs with families whenever they can. The dogs are happier, and it makes the transition to moving them to their forever home easier.”
    “Did you memorize the brochure?” I ask Omar, just as Chloe says, “Yes! Fostering! We can foster the dog, Mom!”
    “Well …” Mom is thinking about it, I can tell.
    “Mom, dogs are a lot of work,” I say. Chloe glares at me, and I wince. I know how much she loves dogs, but …
    “I’ll do it!” Chloe insists. “I’ll take care of the dog! I really will! I’ll do everything!”
    “You can always bring the dog back to the shelter, if you’re having problems,” Omar says. “You’re just fostering, not providing a permanent home. It’s temporary!” And he shoots his gleamy white-toothed grin, and Chloe and the dog have their Big Bunny Eyes on, and Mom only holds out for about three seconds.
    “Oh, all right,” Mom says at last.
    Chloe gives a shout and the dog starts to bark with happy, excited yips, and Omar claps Chloe on the back, and just like that — we have a new family member. Well, sort of like that. Omar can’t just hand the dog over. He has to take her back to the shelter and we have to fill out paperwork and everything, but it’s happening.
    It’s happening.
    Lord help me; it’s happening.

O mar used to have a dog. Its name was Alabama.
    As you know, I’m not wild about dogs, but Alabama was sweet and moved slowly. He was a black dog with a gray muzzle and watery brown eyes, and his tail would wag slowly back and forth whenever he did anything — greeted a stray dog, ate a treat, stopped to sniff.
    He must have been very, very old, because his walk was jerky, like his joints needed oil. One day, I saw Omar carrying him down the street. The dog wasn’t wriggling or trying to get away, or anything — he was just patiently letting Omar haul him around.
    “Taking your dog for a walk?” I joked.
    But Omar didn’t laugh. “Well, he made it up the street,”he said. “But I don’t think he can make it back.” He pressed his cheek against Alabama’s ear, and Alabama licked Omar’s face. Omar didn’t say anything else. He just carried the dog very carefully across the street toward home.
    Northampton is a small town, but it has a lot of creative types. It’s not unusual to see people on the street doing something