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first. Katie bent to eat, and she looked so sweet that Quinn stroked her head.
    Katie squatted and peed.
    “ Quinn !” Bill yelled, and the dog cringed away from his voice.
    “I’ve got it.” Quinn grabbed a paper towel from the roll beside the sink. Katie looked apologetic and distraught, and Quinn murmured her consolation as she mopped up the urine and then took a bottle of spray disinfectant out of the cupboard. “She’s a submission pee-er,” she told Bill as she scrubbed. “I didn’t know because I’ve been holding her all day. She gets nervous when people pat her and—”
    “Well, obviously it can’t stay here,” Bill said, triumph in his voice. “We can put paper down in the bathroom tonight, but tomorrow it goes.”
    Quinn finished mopping without saying anything. When she’d washed her hands, Bill extended his peace offering. “Your stroganoff’s getting cold.”
    Quinn slid into her chair and picked up her fork.
    Bill smiled at her, approving. “Now Edie will take the dog—”
    “I’m keeping the dog.” Quinn put her fork down.
    “You can’t,” Bill said. “It’ll ruin the carpet and there goes our damage deposit. Plus you’re at school all day. Who’s going to take care of it then?” He shook his head, calm in his own logic. “You’ll give it to Edie.”
    “No.”
    “Then I will,” Bill said, and began to eat.
    Quinn felt cold. “That’s a joke, right?”
    “You’re being irrational,” Bill said when he’d chewed and swallowed. “This dog would drive you crazy in no time. Look at it All it does is shake. And pee.”
    “She’s cold,” Quinn said, and Bill shook his head and kept on eating. “Are you listening to me?” she said, as she felt the heat rise in her.
    “Yes, I’m listening,” Bill said. “And I’m taking care of you by taking it to Edie.”
    Quinn went dizzy for a minute with rage and then bit back her anger because yelling would only create a problem she’d have to fix.
    “It’s the sensible thing to do,” Bill told her. “Eat your dinner.”
    Looking at his smug, sure face, Quinn realized she’d created a monster. Bill thought she was going to give in because she always had; so why should he expect anything else? She’d trained him to be smug. She looked around. This wasn’t even her apartment. Bill had picked it out and moved them in, and when she said, “It’s too beige,” he’d said, “It’s five minutes from school,” and that made so much sense she’d given up. And he’d bought furniture, everything in minimalist stripped pine, and when it was delivered and she said, “I don’t like it, it looks cold and modern,” he said, “I paid for it, and it’s here. Give it a chance, and if you still hate it in a couple of months, we’ll get something you like.” And she’d said okay because it was just furniture, not worth fighting over.
    Katie leaned against her leg, her butt rolling on the carpet. Katie was worth fighting for.
    And maybe the furniture had been worth fighting over, too. All that damn beige.
    Bill smiled at her across the table, equally beige.
    In fact, right about now, anything was worth fighting over.
    “Now, don’t sit over there and sulk,” Bill said. “Edie will be good to the dog.”
    “I hate this furniture.” Quinn shoved herself away from the table and got up to get her coat.
    “Quinn?” Bill sounded a little taken aback. “What are you talking about?”
    “All of it.” She shrugged into her peacoat. “I like old stuff. Warm stuff. I hate this apartment. I hate beige carpet.”
    “Quinn.”
    She turned her back to him to pick up Katie. “And right now, I’m not too crazy about you, either.”
    The last thing she heard as she went out the door was Bill saying, “Quinn, you’re acting like a child.”
    * * *
    Nick was just getting into Carl Hiaasen’s latest when somebody knocked on his door. He’d only been home an hour, the cubes in his second Chivas hadn’t started to melt yet, and now