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with the babies, walking the dogs at the vet, losing myself for entire hours inthe little garden, I don’t have to figure out the Nat thing. Besides, I’m sure it’ll pass.
    That Saturday, Maira and Larissa invite me to come along with them to the beach the next morning, but I’ve gone from lonely to human overload, so I decline in favor of a day by myself. Daisy and I go to walk the dogs first. I’ve paid off my bill, but I still walk the dogs as a favor for Thomas.
    “Your sister was in here looking for you,” Thomas tells me in place of a “hello.”
    “She knows where I’ve been.” I gather the leashes.
    “I don’t think so,” Thomas says. “She was pretty frantic. I told her you’re nannying, but I didn’t know the details. She wants you to call her.” Thomas hands me the phone. “Immediately.”
    Joy is obviously hungover and obviously furious. “There is no note!” she screams at me when I tell her I’d left one. Her voice is groggy and scratchy. “You are such a liar!”
    “There’s a note, Joy.” I take a deep breath. “I left it on the table, under the window.”
    “What the hell...” I can tell Joy is getting out of bed to go look. “You are in big shit, kiddo. Mom and Dad called—”
    “They did? How are they?”
    “Well, understandably upset when I told them I had no clue where you were.”
    “But I left you a note!”
    “And here it is.” Joy laughs. “Right where you said it was. Huh. Go figure. Maybe you could’ve stuck it on the mirror or the door or a cupboard or something where we would’ve actually found it.”
    “I can’t believe you told them that!” I put a hand to my forehead. “What did they say?”
    “They canned the project.” Joy coughs. “They’re coming home to look for their precious little runaway.”
    “But I didn’t run away!” I don’t believe this! They must be dying with worry over there! “I got a job and a real bed to sleep in! Some people would call that responsible.”
    Joy laughs again, which makes her cough some more. When she recovers from her hacking fit, she covers the phone and mumbles something to Bruce. At least,I assume it’s Bruce. With her you never know.
    “Oh, Hopeless,” she says and then starts laughing again. “I didn’t tell them, are you kidding? I told them you were out. They’re going to call back on Tuesday morning. It was a joke. Ha, ha, you know?”
    “You are such a bitch, Joy.”
    “Ooo, hippie kid goes nasty.” Joy’s laugh turns into a cackle. “Call the press!”
    “I’m hanging up now, and the only reason I’m telling you that is so you can’t say I hung up on you.”
    “Beat you to it!” Joy screeches and slams the phone down.
    I walk the dogs and then take Daisy up to the park. The whole while, I’m seething. Joy absolutely cannot be my parents’ child. She must be a foundling, some evil demon spawn from wretched origins best forgotten. I let Daisy off her leash and lie down in a piece of shade to feel sorry for myself. Not a minute passes before Daisy comes charging back with Clocker hot onher heels. I sit up and scan the meadow. No dreadlocked tattooed crush on the horizon. I don’t know if I’m relieved or disappointed.
    “Here we go again.” I lie back down. “Get comfy, guys. I’m not doing anything about it in any hurry.” About Clocker or the crush.
    Before I know it, and without meaning to, I fall asleep. When I wake up, the sun is significantly higher in the sky and neither Clocker nor Daisy is in sight. I leap up.
    “Daisy!” I spin around. A million off-leash dogs, but no scrappy little Westie with a big yellow boyfriend. “Clocker!”
    How could I have fallen asleep? So far, this summer is about as hellish as it gets. No Larchberry, no parents, a crush on a girl—which does not compute—no money, a useless sister, and now I’ve lost my dog in New York City! This is my time to shine, apparently. Worse, Daisy is one of the breeds people steal to sell. I take a