“LEROY!”

The dog stiffened. Jacki and Josh heard steps coming down the stairs. An elderly man with a comb-over and large thick glasses appeared at their door.

“I do apologize,” said the man, raising his very bushy eyebrows and glaring at the dog. Leroy ducked his head behind Jacki’s knee. Jacki laughed.

“He thinks you won’t see him that way,” she giggled.

“I’m George,” the man said, smiling at her, “You’ll have met my wife Verna. She must have left the door open a smidge when she came down to bring you the pie. Usually Leroy is a very good dog but he’s very excited today.”

“That’s ok,” Jacki said, completely forgetting the fear Leroy had caused her just a few moments ago, “He seems like a great dog.” She patted his head.

“Well, so sorry to intrude,” George said, “Come on, Leroy, home we go!”

“Do you think he did that on purpose?” Josh asked after closing and locking the door.

“What? Let the dog out? Why would you think that?” Jacki rinsed their pie plates in the sink.

“He just had this smirk on his face when he left. Maybe you didn’t see it.”

“The man or the dog?”

“Well, both actually,” Josh admitted, “I just wondered if he wanted to steal his wife’s thunder by meeting us as well.”

“That pie was good.” Jacki said. She looked at the clock – it was only 8:30 p.m.

“Josh, I think I’m ready to go for a walk. I got my second wind.”

“Great! I just can’t find my flip flops.”Jacki walked to the laundry basket, stacked precariously on the pile of boxes in the middle of their living room.

“They’re right here, dear,” she said.

Outside their front door was a landing. To the left the stairs went up to Number 3. Straight ahead through an arch was the door to Number 2 and another stairwell up to Number 4. On the right a shallow flight of steps led down to the narrow alley way between Walnut Street and Beck’s Lane.

“Let’s go that way,” Jacki said pointing to the back of the building.

The path was well cared for, the rhododendrons were cut back, the ugly wilted flowers removed already. The three planters with petunias were probably Verna’s. At the back of the house was a large parking lot and a lane running through it. Beck’s Lane.

“What’s all this parking for?” Jacki asked, walking down the lane towards Fifth. She turned the corner and stared at the sign.

Beck’s Funeral Home. Wonderful, she thought. I’ll get to walk by that everyday on my way to work.

“Wow, how smart of them,” Josh said, coming up behind her, “They picked the right area.”

“Josh!”

“What?” He shrugged at her horrified look, “I’m just saying, it’s probably a strong market.” She just shook her head at him.

“It’s going to be a nice short walk to the cafe.” She said, changing the subject.

“When do you start again?” Josh asked. Jacki had just been hired as a barista at the Red Twig Bakery Cafe.

“Monday,” she said, “I’m going in at 10:00 a.m. I’m not sure what my shifts are going to be.” They wandered down Fifth and she pointed out the bakery as they went by.

“Everything closes early down here, so I don’t think I’ll have any late shifts,” she said. That was going to be a nice change after working evening shifts at Starbucks.

Josh worked at a chiropractic clinic up the hill. He was a certified athletic trainer and did rehab therapy with patients. On the side, he ran his own photography company. After almost five years, he was getting antsy to have a real studio. His dream was to find a great space in downtown Edmonds. He had an idea that there might be a niche market here for doing elegant and dramatic portraits of seniors.

“See Jacki,” he suddenly said, stopping in front of an art gallery as they neared the roundabout at Main, “Something like this would be perfect. I could display stuff here in the front window and then do studio work in the middle space where there’s still the high ceiling. I could put my office up in that balcony. It would be perfect.”

“Matthews Gallery,” Jacki read, “I thought I saw ‘Matthews’ on one of the mailboxes of our condo! I wonder if they’re connected.”

“We have to find a space like this – there has to be something available near here,” said Josh, still concentrating on his imaginary studio.

“Yeah, for a lot of money!” said Jacki, “Do you really think we could afford to rent something this big and pay our mortgage?”

Josh frowned.

“It could happen,” he said defensively.