Grime By Danielle Morris “We should get a puppy,” said Dixie. Her ponytail slipped over her shoulder and tickled his nose as she leaned over the back of the couch and hugged him around his neck. “Like a lab or a shepherd. A little one. I think it would liven this place up.” “A puppy?” Alex rubbed her arm. “Why do you want a puppy?” “Who doesn'ʹt want a puppy?” She laughed and tightened her hold. “I would imagine people who are allergic to animal dander don'ʹt want a puppy.” She laughed again. “It'ʹs a good thing neither of us are allergic, then.” He pushed her hair out of his face. “We should get a puppy because we'ʹre not allergic to dogs?” “No, we should get a puppy because we want one.” Dixie released him, but only to step to the side and somersault over the back of the sofa. She came to a rest with her legs crossed on the cushion, facing him and beaming. “Do we?” “Well, duh. Who doesn'ʹt want a puppy when they'ʹve got a big house and a big yard?” Squeezing her knee, Alex said, “I would imagine people who don'ʹt want their yard and furniture ruined don'ʹt want a puppy.” “Alexander.” Dixie huffed, but she was still smiling. The dimples in her cheeks winked at him. “It'ʹs true.” His hand slid up to her thigh. “Why do you want a puppy?” She caught his wandering fingers, pinching each of his knuckles. “I just think it'ʹs time for us to get a puppy, you know?” “Time?” he repeated. One of his dark eyebrows rose, disappearing into his wispy bangs. “Yeah.” She rubbed his hand between both of hers, and for a moment, she fingered his wedding band. “We'ʹve got stability. Maybe it'ʹs time to make our family bigger.” “Aren'ʹt both of us enough?” Alex glanced around their living room. For a moment, he pictured his beautiful house besmirched here and there with bits of mud, scuffs, and gates in every doorway. It would be a losing battle to keep the
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