III. Once a puppy
III. Once a puppy
As told by Milo
Nina and I waited for her father to show up in comfortable silence. We sat down on a low concrete wall that was just too high to touch the ground. Rhythmically dangling my feet, I held Nina's hand and stroked her arm with the other. With her head on my shoulder, we sat there until a shiny dark green station wagon stopped at the nearby parking spot.
"There he is!" Nina said enthusiastically as she hopped off the wall.
We grabbed our bags and hastened towards the car. The door at the driver's side opened and a tall Mountain Dog stepped out.
"Hi dad!" Nina said, wagging her tail.
"Hey girl," he responded as she hugged him, wagging his tail as well, "I've been missing you."
"You must be the famous Milo," he then said to me over Nina's head.
I nodded, as I was a bit intimidated by his posture, which rendered me unable to find words. He then let go of his daughter to shake my hands. His firm grip on my right hand got my train of thought back on track.
"That would make you Mr. Phillips, I suppose?" I replied, mockingly implying that he might be someone altogether different, even though Nina had already given away his identity.
"Oh, no need for formalities. You can call me Gregory."
I nodded once more as we let go of each other. Mr. Phillips, I mean Gregory, opened the cargo area so Nina and I could put our luggage in. She then nudged me to get into the car and got in on the right side herself.
The ride to Nina's place was only a ten minute drive from the station. During the trip, I firmly held Nina's hand, which Gregory could not fail to notice when he looked in his rearview mirror.
"You never told me you guys were such lovebirds," he joked.
"What's up, dad? Are you jealous?" Nina countered with a chuckle.
"Not jealous, but maybe hypocritical. I'm just teasing you, Nina. Your mother and I were just like that when we were your age."
"Well, we're not usually this clingy. It's just... let's say that Milo and I are not best friends with cars."
"I see. Did you experience something similar to Nina's misadventure, Milo?" Gregory asked.
"Not me," I commented plainly, hoping that he would not ask any further questions.
There was a short, but not uncomfortable silence.
"Don't worry, pups, we're almost there," Gregory then said, breaking the silence.
Nina winked at me and we chuckled, since her dad called us 'pups'.
"Dad, don't you think I'm too old to be your puppy?"
I looked at Nina with a confused expression.
"Nina, you're my daughter. Like it or not, you'll always be my pup," Gregory responded as he slowed down to park the car. "That's how biology works, I guess."
Seeing my girl grin, I could not resist nudging her with my elbow.
"Fine, here we are. Welcome in eastern Sandshire, Milo. I hope you'll enjoy your stay with us."
Shaking her head at her dad's pseudo-serious comment, Nina opened the car door on her side and got out, after which I quickly followed suit. My feet hit the snow-covered concrete tiles of the drive, a feeling I greatly appreciated. Solid ground.
Gregory opened the cargo area and handed Nina and me our respective bags. He then picked up the plastic bag that contained Natasha, and the inevitable happened.
"Nina? Is this yours?" he asked curiously.
She nodded.
"Really? You told me you were too old to be my puppy, while you have a big stuffed dog lying in the back of my car?
"I gave it to her," I confessed as we walked to the front door.
"Oh, I see," Gregory responded with a smile, "was it a Midwinter present, or just because you wanted to spoil your girlfriend?" he added, clearly not seeing the underlying meaning of the latter question.
"A bit of both, I guess."
Gregory took his keys from his pocket and opened the front door.
"Be sure to wipe your paws properly, else the entire hall will become wet."
"Will do, dad," Nina replied.
Like the good puppies we are, Nina and I complied, after which we took off our coats, shoes and gloves. Nina then led me to the guest room, where I would be sleeping for that night. In there, I put down my bag and Nina brought her bag to her room. Natasha got herself a nice spot on Nina's pillow, where she would spend her time waiting for her new owner to cuddle the Mountain Dog to sleep.
"So... we've got the majority of the afternoon ahead of us. Anything in particular you had planned to do?" I queried.
"Well, I'd like to say hi to my mother first, but afterwards... I think I've got a plan."
I followed Nina downstairs, eventually ending up in the kitchen, where we ran into a female Mountain Dog that was busy preparing dinner.
"Hi mom, we're here," Nina said.
Her mother turned to us.
"Hello sweetheart," she said with a warm voice, embracing Nina.
"Mom, this is Milo."
"Nina has spoken much praise about you. Nice to finally meet you, Milo. I am Lindya," the Mountain Dog commented, shaking my hand.
"Likewise. On a side note, may I ask what you're cooking? It smells really good!"
"It's a meat stew, the recipe has been passed down in our family for the last six generations."
I nodded in approval.
"So in case you were wondering, Milo, we're not going to let you in on the secret," Nina joked.
"I guess that would be 'not yet', princess," I countered.
"Believe me, even if I would be your wife, I wouldn't tell you. The recipe has been kept secret and passed down from mother to daughter."
"In short, marrying Nina won't get you the recipe," Lindya added.
I crossed my arms and put up a pouty face.
"It's a conspiracy," I said quasi-serious, making the females laugh heartily.
"If you will excuse me now, kids, I've got some more work to do here. Go have some fun, okay?"
"Don't worry, mom, we will!" Nina said and we left the kitchen.
"So, since you insist on keeping secrets," I joked, "let's return to your plans for this afternoon. What did you have in mind?"
The Mountain Dog grinned.
"When was the last time you built a snowman?"
I shrugged. "No idea. Why?"
"It was a rhetorical question, silly. Come, I estimate a certain little puppy is going to have a great time."
"If you say so," I replied playfully.
Nina took my hand and we went back to the hallway to put our shoes, coats and gloves on.