Chapter Text
Rose Larkin Sutherland was tired of being pregnant. Sure, at first it was nice. She loved feeling the little kicks against her belly, having clearer skin and stronger fingernails, and a slightly rounded stomach that made her feel beautiful when her husband would stare at her. But the little kicks had now transitioned into kidney shots that sometimes made her grimace mid-conversation (freaking Peter out), her clear skin and strong nails were no longer worth the discomfort of never being cool enough or able to find a satisfactory sleeping position, and her little belly was now so big that she couldn’t even reach her feet to put on her own shoes.
After 39 weeks of this? She was over it.
She was ready to get this baby out of her.
Which is what she had told the doctor at their appointment this morning when she asked to be induced.
The doctor chuckled and took off her gloves, dropping them in the nearby trashcan. “Let’s get to the end of the week, then if you still haven’t gone into labor, we’ll induce," the middle aged woman, Dr. Rowe, told Rose confidently as Rose sighed from her spot on the exam table.
Peter grimaced and shot her an apologetic look as he ran his hand over the back of his head. He was sitting in the chair next to the exam table, and he was no doubt imagining all the hell she was going to experience over the next week waiting for this baby to arrive.
She already couldn’t sleep. Peter had to help her wash her legs and feet in the shower. She couldn’t drive because her stomach hit the steering wheel uncomfortably no matter how she situated the seat. She got heartburn every time she ate anything but bland chicken. Her back and hips would randomly ache as if she were a 70 year old woman instead of a mom-to-be in her thirties.
How much worse could it get?
“Have you tried any natural ways to induce labor? Some of my patients have had success with going for long walks,” the doctor said breezily, typing something into Rose’s electronic chart.
“I’ve tried,” Rose said miserably. In the last week she had tried every safely documented method she could find on the internet. She went for walks, she ate dates and pineapples, she had sex. Peter, to his credit, had been more than happy to help in her labor induction attempts. He never complained about the walks and would drive her to nice parks where they could walk hand in hand for an hour or two. He learned how to make different smoothies with fruits in them so she could consume the dates and pineapples without even noticing. And complaints were the last thing on his mind during the sex too. He seemed the happiest to go along with that attempt, predictably.
But she got nothing more than a few Braxton Hicks contractions for her efforts.
Today at 39 weeks, the doctor reported that while Rose was showing progress towards early labor, there were no indications she was in active labor yet. She could very well go another week or more if Baby Pea really wanted to stay in there. It was unacceptable to Rose.
Dr. Rowe chuckled and gave her a big smile. “Enjoy the calm while it lasts, Rose. You only have a few more days of uninterrupted sleep and being able to leave the house whenever you want with no prior planning. Take advantage!”
“Yeah, I guess,” Rose grumped, biting the side of her cheek.
“Have you finished all your preparations?” the doctor asked, still typing on the keyboard. “Hospital bag packed, nursery ready, all that?”
Rose was too busy imagining how many times she was going to have to have Peter help her simply stand up from a chair in the next week to respond, so Peter spoke up. “I think we’re ready,” he confirmed with a nod. “We went through that checklist you gave us at the last appointment, and I think we’re all good.”
“Excellent,” Dr. Rowe beamed. “Oh actually,” she swiveled her chair to face the two of them more fully, “There’s something else. The hospital has a new visitation policy in place this week because of the President’s campaign tour.”
Rose tried not to groan. Of course. It was an election year and the dickhead president that Peter had accidentally helped get elected in the first place was running for re-election. He had some campaign stops all over Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia in the coming week, starting with a stop in downtown Baltimore this afternoon. Rose was hoping she and Peter would be home well before traffic became a nightmare from the president’s motorcade passing through.
She had met with the president a couple times herself, and she didn’t find there to be anything particularly special about him. Even less so when she remembered some of the hell the man had put Peter through back before she had become an agent with him.
“If you want anyone other than your husband to be able to visit or be in the delivery room with you, Rose, you’ll need to call the hospital in advance and get their name on a list under your file,” Dr. Rowe stated. “I’d do that today if I were you, in case the baby decides to make an entrance unexpectedly.”
Unlikely, Rose thought bitterly. She forced a smile and shook her head. “I think we’re good. I don’t think we need anyone else in the delivery room.”
The doctor glanced up at her with a raised eyebrow. “As long as you’re sure. A lot of women want their own mothers there. Don’t feel strange about it if you want that too.”
Rose felt like someone had just thrown a bucket of ice water over her head as she sat on the exam table, frozen.
Rose hadn’t spoken to her mother in months. She had tracked down her mom’s new phone number on the dark web during her second trimester (after she realized the number she had saved in her phone from last time was no longer in service). Rose had figured her mom had a right to know she was going to be a grandmother, so she had tried calling. Her mom hadn’t answered, so Rose had sent a text out of frustration instead to break the news.
Her mom had responded with a ‘thumbs up’ emoji. That was it. Not even words, just a fucking emoji.
Rose hadn’t heard a word from her since. Which was normal, but the closer she got to becoming a mother herself, the more her estrangement from her own mom started to bother her. It wasn’t because she wanted to have a relationship with the woman; Rose had made peace with her lack of relationship with her mom a long time ago. It was more the fact that she worried history could repeat itself with her own child. If Rose’s own mother wasn’t interested in being in her life, could the same thing happen with her child? What if she was actually just like her mom - unable to be a good mother and unintentionally fostering resentment in her baby? How could she be a good mom when she had never had an example of what good moms were like?
During her mental spiral, Rose hadn’t noticed Peter stand next to her until she felt his arm snake around her shoulder and pull her into his side. His presence brought her back to the moment and she blinked and smiled up at him gratefully.
“So if that’s something you want,” Dr. Rowe was saying, “just make sure you call ahead.” The doctor smiled and patted her knee. “You’re almost there, Rose. Call me by Thursday if you still haven’t gone into labor, and we will schedule an induction for Friday, ok?”
“Got it,” Rose nodded, shoving her dark thoughts and insecurities aside. She had more important things to worry about right now than her mother’s disinterest in being a grandma. Things like how she was going to stay cool in the house without also breaking the air conditioner by setting the thermostat too low.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Peter said politely, shaking Dr. Rowe’s hand when she stretched it out to him.
“Next time I see you two, hopefully we’ll be at the hospital for the birth of your son,” the doctor grinned. “Enjoy the rest of your day, and take it easy!” she said before waving and slipping out the door.
Their son . Rose’s chest warmed with affection and her hand settled onto her rounded belly.
Rose had been a little surprised at their anatomy scan months ago when the ultrasound tech had told them they were having a boy, having had a gut feeling all along that it was a girl for whatever reason. Baby Boy Sutherland had given the tech a run for her money with all the wiggling he had been doing during the exam, but the woman had eventually turned her hassled gaze to them and proudly announced they would be parents of a little boy. A boy was unexpected, but not unwelcome. Rose had laughed with joy, and Peter had squeezed her hand and brought the back of her palm to his smiling lips.
In the following weeks, Peter had been adamant that he did not want his child carrying the weight of his first name. Rose didn’t fully understand. After all, Peter was the best person she knew. He was strong, and loyal, and selfless, and any boy should be proud to have his name in her eyes. But she respected the fact that he felt a lot of baggage from being “Peter Sutherland, Junior” and that he didn’t want to make his son into “Peter Sutherland III,” so they had looked for other names.
They both liked the idea of giving their child a name with meaning. They had eventually settled on Henry Francisco Sutherland - in honor of her beloved uncle who was the only father figure she had ever known, and Peter’s best friend Cisco who had died while trying to help the two of them.
As he sometimes did, her not-so-pea-sized unborn baby gave her a swift kick right beneath her palm, making her smile and pat her belly gently.
“You ready?” Peter asked her, holding out a hand to help steady her as she slid down off the exam table.
Fifteen minutes later, they were back in their mid-sized SUV headed for home. Peter was talking to Rose idly about a case that he had been assigned last week. She and Peter had had a lot of discussions about their work situation over the last 9 months: discussions between themselves, discussions with Catherine, and even a couple of discussions with the Deputy Director of the FBI. They had determined that deep cover Night Action assignments were no longer going to be feasible for them once the baby arrived, so they had looked for an alternative.
Now, Peter worked as an FBI liaison for any Night Agents who needed data analysis help on their cases or some brief on-the-ground support in the region. The danger from his job was significantly reduced (which Rose liked), and he rarely had to leave home for more than a couple of days (which Peter liked). Rose’s role actually hadn’t changed drastically. She still provided tech support for any agents who needed it, and the best part was that she had been allowed the CIA-grade tech to be able to do it all from the comfort of her home.
While Peter talked to her about his case - something about an eco-terrorist threatening to blow up a pipeline - Rose was distracted by the seatbelt hugging her waist so tightly that it made it difficult to shift even though her back and hips were aching. She was trying to be a good listener and pay attention to Peter’s story, but honestly, over half of her attention was focused on trying to adjust the line of the seatbelt to give her a little more freedom. She wiggled it and wedged it an inch up or an inch down, but it still held her too tightly and hit her body at an awkward angle.
My god, she needed to have this baby ASAP. She wasn’t going to make it another week.
“Peter,” Rose interrupted him, voice agitated. Peter stopped his story and threw her a concerned glance at whatever he heard in her voice. Rose tried to shift in her seat unsuccessfully and then pointed out the windshield. “Pull over at that nature park up ahead.”
“What? Why?”
Rose scrunched up her face. “Because I’m about to lose my mind, so just…please pull over.”
Peter did as she asked, but she could tell by his face that he wasn’t sure if he should be amused or concerned. He pulled into a parking spot shaded by trees. It overlooked a small clearing with a wooded area just beyond it. There were signs posted for hiking trails and picnic areas not far away, but this exact spot was deserted. Rose looked around and didn’t see any other people or cars, which was perfect.
Peter put the car into ‘park’ and then looked at her expectantly.
Rose unclicked her seatbelt. “Ok, let’s have sex.”
Peter’s shocked laugh would have made her laugh too if she wasn’t so uncomfortable. “What?”
She looked at him pointedly. “I can’t go another week, Peter. Maybe doing it in a car will use different angles or something and will get things moving.”
He was laughing again. “You’re not serious.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Why wouldn’t I be serious?”
“Rose–”
Whatever he was about to say was interrupted by a high pitched, squealing and crying noise. Rose automatically looked out the windshield towards the noise and let out a startled cry herself when she realized what she was seeing.
It was a dog - a puppy really, small and golden but covered with a dusting of light brown dirt. It was running as fast as its little legs could carry it through the clearing in front of them while being chased by a larger four-legged animal. The animal resembled a dog, but its snout was sharper and its body leaner. It had silver-gray fur and pointed ears.
“Is that a coyote?” Rose screeched, grabbing onto Peter’s arm as her heartbeat pounded with adrenaline.
The coyote chased after the puppy until the puppy managed to wiggle its way under a groove in a large rock. The coyote snapped its jaws and snarled as it circled the rock and tried to start digging at some of the surrounding dirt to get down to where the puppy had crawled.
“Peter, it’s going to kill it!” Rose gasped. Peter’s jaw was tight, but he didn’t say anything as he watched the scene unfolding in front of them and grimaced. Rose desperately leaned over to bash her hand against the horn on the steering wheel a few times. The loud HOOOONNNKKK noises disturbed the natural setting, and the coyote jumped and ran back into the woods as if it had never been there in the first place.
Rose’s heart was still thumping painfully in her chest as she honked the horn one more time for good measure, then she looked at Peter. His eyes were wide like hers surely were. She tore her gaze away from him and pushed herself against her passenger side door, fumbling for the lock on her door. She didn’t know what she was going to do, she hadn’t really thought it through, but something inside her told her she needed to get that puppy and make sure it was ok.
Two things happened at once - Rose managed to unlatch the door and start swinging it open, and Peter gripped her bicep and pulled her back towards him forcefully.
“Absolutely not,” he gritted out.
Rose yanked against his grip, but he didn’t budge. “It’s just a puppy! It needs help!” she defended herself. “We can’t leave it here!”
“Like hell we can’t.” He eyed her like he thought she was insane. “It could have rabies.”
She scoffed. “I does not. Besides, they have shots for that!” She pulled against his grip again. “Let me go,” she demanded. He loosened his grip, but he didn’t release her completely.
“You can’t go out there,” he told her, staring at her like he was still stunned that she even wanted to try leaving the safety of the car. “That coyote could come back–”
“It will take me 30 seconds to grab the puppy,” she defended herself.
“No,” he argued back.
They stared at each other, neither blinking, until Rose finally huffed and looked out the windshield. She watched, her heart in her throat, as the little puppy wiggled its way slowly out from beneath the rock. It hovered low in the grass and looked around, and even from where the car was parked Rose could see its little body shaking.
Something in her chest felt like it was being pinched. It was just a baby. It was scared and alone, and it was in danger. Could she really just leave it here? And if she could, would that say something about her maternal instincts? If she could drive away and forget about this sad, defenseless creature, could she be capable of leaving her own child behind, just like her mother was?
Oh god.
She couldn’t be like her mom. She wasn’t , right?
The little puppy started to whine as it shook in the grass, and Rose could hear the soft, sad sound through her door which was still cracked open. She ripped her gaze to Peter’s eyes, finding hers suddenly stinging a little bit. “Peter,” she choked out, like she was pleading with him.
Peter swallowed, ran a hand over his face, and mumbled something that sounded like “fuck.” Then he looked at her pointedly. “I’ll go get it. Do not leave this car. You understand?”
Rose nodded, her throat itching.
She yanked her car door closed again at the same time as he sighed and stepped out of the vehicle on his side. He scanned the area to make sure he didn’t see any more wild animals approaching, and then she watched anxiously through the windshield as he approached the puppy. He slowed his steps as he got closer, trying not to frighten it, and Rose could hear the puppy’s mewling getting louder and more scared with each step Peter took towards it.
When he was close enough, he crouched down and extended his hand for the dog to sniff. The puppy took two small, shaky steps towards him and sniffed his fingers cautiously. Rose held her breath as Peter stood back up, took off his zippered sweatshirt, and then crouched down again and wrapped the dog in the sweatshirt as he picked it up. Her eyes bounced between Peter and the treeline as he made his way back to the car, prepared the whole time to lean over and honk the horn again if another wild animal emerged from the woods.
When Peter got to the car, he opened the driver’s side door, but he didn’t get in. He shifted the puppy in his arms slightly and ducked his head so he could see Rose inside. “Look up symptoms of rabies,” he told her.
Rose raised her eyes from the quiet, trembling mass in Peter’s arm up to his brown eyes. She narrowed hers at him. “Fine, just get in before that coyote comes back and makes me a widow.”
Peter’s lips twitched. “I’m not putting the puppy in the car until you look it up.”
Rose smashed her lips together and took her phone from the cup holder. After about 10 seconds, she was reading off the symptoms. “Ok, fine. Excessive drooling?”
Peter shifted the puppy again to look at it more fully, then looked back at Rose and shook his head.
“Aggression? No, I can see that one for myself,” she continued. “Paralysis? Seizures?” Peter gave her a look, and she smirked. “No to that too. See, I’m sure it’s fine. Hand it over,” she commanded.
Peter sighed, but he lowered the little puppy across the seat towards Rose’s outstretched arms. She gathered the sweatshirt-clad puppy in her arms and automatically cradled it to her chest - probably because there wasn’t much room on her lap with her enormous belly taking up so much space. The puppy was still fairly small and couldn’t have weighed more than 10 pounds. It felt too skinny to her, even with Peter’s sweatshirt wrapped around it, and it wasn’t just trembling in her arms, it was full on shaking. “Hey,” she cooed softly at the little dog, gently moving the sweatshirt farther away from its face so she could look at it. “Hey, you’re ok,” she said, stroking its ear softly.
“It has a collar on,” Peter told her. He was sitting in the driver’s seat now with his door closed, and he shifted the car into reverse and started backing out of the parking spot.
Rose stroked her hand down the puppy’s head until she found the collar buried in its dirty fur. It was a simple band that seemed to be too tight on the little guy, judging by the way it was wedged into its fur. Rose frowned and searched her finger around the edge of the collar for a tag. She found it tucked up beneath the band of the collar and shifted it around so she could crane her neck and read it.
“It just says ‘Pumpkin,’” Rose stated, a little thrill shooting through her as her smile widened. Just this morning she had read on her baby app that Sweet Pea was now the size of a small pumpkin. Was that coincidence, or was it fate leading this puppy to them? “Is your name Pumpkin?" she asked the little dog gently, scratching the back of its neck soothingly with her fingernails. She glanced at Peter as he was turning the car towards the exit of the park. “Where are we going?” she asked him.
He put on his blinker and then turned left out of the lot. “There’s a vet up the road. We’ll get them to check it out and see if it has one of those chips in its neck so we can return it to its owner.”
Rose hummed in response and hugged the little puppy closer to her. It was still making tiny mewling noises like it was scared, but its extreme shaking was subsiding to smaller shivers. “Poor thing,” she said aloud. “Her owner should have been more careful not to let her out. She could have been killed in those woods.”
Peter glanced at her briefly and raised an eyebrow. “She?”
“Pumpkin is definitely a girl name,” she explained easily, smoothing her hand down the back of the little dog’s head. The baby punched her right in the bladder as if voicing his agreement, and she smiled to herself. “Sweet Pea agrees, by the way,” she told Peter with a teasing grin, and he smirked and rolled his eyes.
Rose spoke quietly to the puppy on the drive down the road to the veterinary clinic, assuring her that she was safe now and that she and Peter would make sure she got home to her family. By the time Peter parked the car and got out to walk around to her side and open the door, Pumpkin had stopped shaking. She even licked Rose’s hand tentatively when Rose smoothed her fingers over the puppy’s front paw.
Peter pulled her door open and reached his hands out for the puppy, but Rose shook her head. She didn’t want to give her up just yet, even to her husband. Instead, she started wedging her way out of the seat with her arms full of the small dog. Peter automatically reached for her side and helped steady her as she slid out of the car. She flashed him a grateful smile, then winced and leaned forward and back slightly.
Peter stepped closer, his hands coming up to hover over her back and belly. “You alright?”
She huffed. “Fine. My back hurts worse than before, but it’s probably just a side effect of basically carrying around a bowling ball strapped to the front of me.”
Peter let out a breath, but eyed her warily. “Take it easy, ok? Let me carry the dog.”
“I’ve got it,” Rose assured him before starting to walk towards the front door of the office. She heard the beep of the SUV’s doors locking behind her, and moments later she felt Peter’s hand against her back as he walked with her through the front doors.
The waiting room was full of people and their animal companions. It was noisy - a mixture of phones ringing behind the desk and loud barks of friendly or impatient dogs nearby. Pumpkin started to shiver in her arms again, and Rose hugged her little body more tightly. There were three different employees at the front desk, but only one of them was not in the middle of answering a phone call, so Rose stepped up to the space in front of him.
“Excuse me,” she said breezily. “My husband and I just found this puppy in the park. She has a collar, but no phone number to call. Can you check to see if she has an ID chip?”
She felt Peter standing behind her, and she knew without looking that he was scanning the office space for exits and taking a mental inventory of faces.
The vet tech, Simon, according to his name tag, grinned and stood up behind the desk. “Of course.” He reached across the desk, and Rose handed the puppy over to him, ignoring the way her heart pinched when Pumpkin let out a scared whine and looked at her with big brown eyes. “Aren’t you just the cutest?” Simon said lightly to the puppy.
“Her name is Pumpkin,” Rose told him, her throat feeling a little thick.
Peter’s hand came to rest on her shoulder. “It was being chased by a coyote. If you don’t mind, check it over for any obvious injuries, too,” he told Simon.
Simon cooed at the little dog and bounced her softly in his arms like he was cradling a baby. “We can do that,” he assured the two of them. “Let me take her back to the back. I’ll have one of the vets give her a quick look to make sure she seems ok, and we’ll rinse some of this dirt off. We’ll scan her for a chip and let you know.”
Rose nodded gratefully, her hands wringing Peter’s now empty sweatshirt between them.
Simon nodded to a stack of clipboards at the end of the desk space. “Go ahead and take one of the clipboards and fill out your information. This shouldn’t take long,” he promised, then Rose watched him disappear through a door at the back with Pumpkin in his arms.
Peter tapped her shoulder lightly with his fingertips, drawing her attention to him. He had already taken one of the clipboards, and he motioned for her to follow him to the waiting area with the tilt of his head. She handed his sweatshirt back to him and then followed his lead. Peter managed to find a space with two empty chairs beside each other, and Rose had to fight back a grimace when she lowered herself into the chair.
Her back was really sore this morning. Maybe she had slept on it weirdly.
Peter sat down next to her and began filling out the information the vet needed as she looked around. There were many dogs of all shapes and sizes waiting with their owners, all either on leashes or in carriers. There were some other humans there with carriers, most of which Rose assumed held cats or maybe even rabbits or ferrets. She looked at the woman sitting in the chair beside her and noticed the small carrier with air holes poked into it sitting beside the woman’s feet.
The woman caught her looking, and Rose smiled politely. “Is that your cat in there?” Rose guessed, trying to make conversation to help the time pass more quickly.
The woman smiled back. “Oh no, it’s my snake. She’s a ball python.”
Rose’s smile froze on her face. What the fuck? Rose liked to think she could handle a lot of things. For God’s sake, she’d killed an assassin who tried to murder her husband, and she had once stared down a chemical weapon attack without blinking. But snakes? She didn’t do snakes. She glanced at Peter, but he didn’t seem too worried even though she’s sure he would have been eavesdropping and would have heard that the lady next to her was harboring a fucking snake in her animal carrier. “That’s uh…” Rose searched for words. “Very unique!”
The woman’s face lit up and she started fiddling with the top of the carrier. “You want to hold her? Her name is Rosy.”
Rose was frozen in horror until she heard Peter snort beside her and mutter something that sounded like “that’s a coincidence.” She kicked the side of his foot with hers, then looked at the woman next to her with a fake smile.
“That’s not necessary,” she said brightly. “I actually have to uh…go turn in this clipboard.” She snatched the clipboard from Peter’s hands, hoping he was finished by now because she was not sitting in a seat next to a snake. She threw him a look to tell him that when she came back he either needed to move over to sit next to the snake, or they were both finding a new seat. She could tell by the twitch of his lips that he understood her message.
She struggled up from her chair (Peter only had to put his hand on her back briefly to help her, so it wasn’t as embarrassing as it could have been), and then went to drop off the clipboard at the front desk.
Once she handed the information to one of the workers, her phone buzzed in the small purse she had slung over her shoulder. She decided to check it near the desk - anything to stay away from the snake lady a little longer. She grabbed her phone and scrolled through Catherine’s message. It had been sent to her and to Peter, and she assumed Peter was already looking at it across the room too.
FYI, Hagan’s visit has been upgraded to Level 3. The Secret Service intercepted some online chatter about an assassination attempt. Be on the lookout in case they need any support in the area .
Rose sighed. Hagan was the President of the United States. Wasn’t someone always posting assassination threats online? That kind of came with the job. Traffic was already going to be a nightmare this afternoon because of the security that came with his visit, but now it looked like the Secret Service had upgraded the status to the highest level of alert before an event would be cancelled due to a threat. There were probably a whole slew of roads adjacent to the president’s route that would end up closed now as a precaution. Just great.
Rose put a hand against her lower back to rub away some of the discomfort in the muscles and nerves there and turned back toward the waiting area. Peter was walking towards her. His eyes flickered to the hand she held against her own back, and then back up to her face. “Ok?” he asked her when he was close enough to not be overheard.
She nodded. “Fine. But I’m not sitting next to a snake.”
“Not even one that has your name?” he teased.
She elbowed him lightly in the side. “I know you didn’t just make a joke about me having any similarities to a snake.”
He laughed, kissed the top of her head, and then grabbed her hand and tugged her in the opposite direction. They found a couple of new chairs to wait in - this time between a friendly chihuahua and a cat that kept hissing at Peter (which Rose thought was hilarious - served him right after the snake joke). Rose’s finger tapped against her belly anxiously while they waited for what she thought was an unnecessarily long length of time.
How long should it really take to rinse off a puppy, check it for injuries, and scan a microchip in its neck? She kept imagining Pumpkin’s sad, scared little face and the way the puppy had looked at her when she handed it over to the vet tech.
It was a look of betrayal. Like the puppy thought she was abandoning it.
Rose’s stomach tightened uncomfortably at the thought.
She wasn’t abandoning it. She wouldn’t do that. To anyone.
That’s what she was trying to prove to herself today, at least.
“Sutherland?” the male vet tech from earlier called over the PA system.
Peter took Rose’s hand and helped her up again.
When they got back to the front desk, the tech was holding Pumpkin in his arms. Her light fur was clean now, and she made a happy yipping noise and started squirming in the tech’s arms when she saw Rose and Peter. Peter reached across the desk and accepted the puppy into his arm, and Pumpkin settled against him and started licking his hand.
“Everything looks good. The doc said she looks like a yellow lab mix and is probably about 7 weeks old,” the tech, Simon, said as he started tapping some keys on the computer keyboard. “No injuries that we could find, but she is a little underweight. She’ll need some high quality puppy food to help her development.”
Rose pulled out her phone to start typing the information in her Notes App at the same time as Peter said, “She’s not ours. We just need to know where to return her.”
Rose paused, her throat suddenly tight. That was true. But surely her owners would want to know this information, so Rose went back to recording what the tech was saying.
“Right,” the tech said, eyeing them like he didn’t believe them. “Well, make sure to tell her owners to get her in to start her routine vaccinations within the next two weeks or so if they haven’t already done that.” He printed something off from the computer and handed the paper over to Rose. “Turns out she did have a microchip. It was a little out of place, I don’t know if they had someone unqualified put it in or what, but we found it.”
Rose looked at the printed information. Pumpkin was registered to a Loretta Paulsen. Rose didn’t know the address offhand, but the postal code looked like it was somewhere on the eastern side of the city.
Rose and Peter thanked the tech, and a few minutes later, they were back in the car headed for Loretta’s address. Rose was holding Pumpkin on her lap as securely as she could while Peter drove. Pumpkin was more comfortable now, and she kept sniffing Rose’s belly - causing the baby to react and hit against Rose’s body as if both of them could sense each other. It made a warm feeling bloom in Rose’s chest, and the cute scene was almost enough to ease some of the discomfort rippling through her abdomen and back periodically.
“Hey, look up this Loretta woman before we get there,” Peter said casually as he merged onto the expressway. He hadn’t been thrilled when he typed in the address on his phone and it came back with a rundown trailer park on the edge of the city limits. He had originally told Rose he’d take her home, then he’d come back to deliver Pumpkin on his own, but Rose had shot that idea down. For one, with the President coming into town in only a couple hours, Peter was bound to be caught in the gridlock if he tried that plan.
But the larger reason was that Rose felt like she had to see this through herself. She had to prove that she was not capable of abandoning anything that needed her or depended on her. She did not share the same instincts as her mother, and making sure Pumpkin found her way safely home would go a long way towards helping Rose put that tiny worry in the back of her mind to bed.
Rose shifted Pumpkin to be held mostly in her left arm so that she could grab her phone with her right hand. She easily navigated to the FBI database she wanted and entered in her credentials, then typed in ‘Loretta Paulsen.’ She scanned the results and found one match to the name and address they were going to.
“Looks like a DUI a decade ago, but nothing since,” she told him. He frowned, but he only made a disgruntled noise to acknowledge that he had heard her. Rose set her phone back down and rubbed Pumpkin’s soft ear soothingly. The little puppy had settled into her arm with its head propped on the top of her belly and looked like it was about to drift off to sleep.
Peter stopped at a stoplight and looked over at her. Rose glanced at the route on his phone and saw they were only about 2 minutes away from their destination.
“Rose,” Peter started, and she could hear the familiar note or paranoia in his voice. “Let me drop you off at this bakery up here on the left. Hang out there and get a pastry or something, I’ll take Pumpkin home, and then I’ll pick you up.”
Rose had to bite the corner of her lip to keep from reacting to the suggestion. “That’s ridiculous,” she told him as patiently as she could.
“Not as ridiculous as marching my 9 months pregnant wife up to the door of a stranger in a trailer park,” he shot back easily, keeping his eyes on the road. He was gripping the wheel tightly and his jaw was tense - dead giveaways that even though he was controlling his tone, he was affected by the situation at hand.
Rose bit the side of her cheek. “What do you have against people in trailer parks?”
Peter frowned. “Nothing.”
That was probably true. He would likely have asked her to wait at a bakery even if they were headed for a mansion. She wouldn’t do it though. She shook her head at him and continued petting the now sleeping puppy. “I need to make sure Pumpkin is safe.”
Peter sighed and continued driving.
Rose didn’t have anything against trailer parks either. In fact, she had lived in one from time to time growing up. But even she could admit that this particular trailer park was in need of some TLC. There were weeds growing up everywhere she looked as they drove down the road, and many of the trailers had trash stacked outside of them, broken windows, or “For Rent” signs stuck in the front lawn.
Peter pulled to a stop outside of the mobile home that was indicated on Pumpkin’s microchip. It looked similar to the others around it - one story, narrow, in need of a fresh coat of paint. One difference was that this home had a privacy fence installed around the back half of the property, which looked like it jutted up to the woods. There was a sign hanging on the fence that read “Beware of Dog.”
Rose swallowed and looked down at the sleeping puppy. This was Pumpkin’s home? Rose couldn’t imagine the sweet little puppy in her lap living here behind that large fence. Pumpkin was just a baby. She deserved a nice fluffy bed inside a comfortable home, a big yard to run around in, and a family who would love her enough to be looking for her.
Rose could feel Peter’s eyes on her, but she didn’t want to look at him. He’d be able to read her, and she didn’t really want her emotions to be read at the moment.
“I’ll take her,” he told her, his voice gentle. “Just…please stay in the car, ok?” He shifted so he could extend an arm for her to shift Pumpkin over to him.
Rose nodded and bent forward to plant a kiss on the top of Pumpkin’s head. “Be a good girl, ok?” she told the puppy. Pumpkin stirred and blinked up at her with sleepy eyes, her tongue lolling out the side of her mouth like she was smiling. Rose handed Pumpkin towards Peter, who collected the little dog into his arm and opened his car door. “Make sure to tell Loretta what the vet said about Pumpkin’s food,” she reminded Peter, her voice a little thick.
“I got it,” Peter murmured, then shut the car door.
She was doing the right thing. She was returning Pumpkin to her home and making sure the dog got to stay with her real family. So why did it pinch her heart and make her feel like she was abandoning her? This whole thing was supposed to prove the opposite. Rose wasn’t the abandoning type. She just wasn’t.
She couldn’t be.
Rose watched through the car window as Peter stalked towards the front door. He kept Pumpkin held securely in his left arm, and Rose knew that was intentional. Peter preferred to keep his right hand free as often as possible since his aim was better when he shot with his right hand. She did see him reach up and scratch the little dog’s head a couple times though, and the sight made her feel warm down to her toes.
Rose set her hands on her belly and stroked it softly without thinking. “You’re going to be so happy to meet your dad, Sweet Pea,” she said out loud. She had gotten in the habit of speaking to the baby from time to time. She did it most often when she was alone, but every now and then she did it with Peter around. Sometimes he talked to the baby when he thought she was asleep too, and it was so paralyzingly cute that she always just pretended to still be sleeping so he wouldn’t stop.
She and Peter had picked out their baby boy’s name, but for some reason, Rose couldn’t make it fit yet. She supposed she’d have to see him herself and hold him in her arms to feel like he was Henry . She watched Peter ring the doorbell and wait on the front stoop, and it looked like Pumpkin was squirming a little in his arms now. He was using both arms to hold her. “You really hit the jackpot for dads,” Rose continued absently. “He’s going to love you so much and take such good care of you.”
She felt the baby kick against her hand at the top of her belly and smiled to herself. “I love you too. I don’t know if I’ll be a good mom, but I’m going to try my best. I promise.” She patted her belly, swallowing down the insecurities that always cropped up when she imagined herself as a mother.
Rose saw Peter shift on the front step and then reach forward to knock on the door. Maybe the doorbell wasn’t working? Rose scanned her eyes around the property again. There was a beat-up looking pickup truck parked in front of the mobile home, which suggested that someone was inside. Why weren’t they answering the door?
Then, her eyes snagged on some movement behind the fence. She could see the shadow of a person through the small spaces between the privacy fence posts and a head with greasy, brownish-gray hair came into view over the top of the fence. The gate near the house opened and a man wearing a dirty white tank top stepped through it. He shut the gate behind him quickly, frowned in Rose’s direction, and then frowned even more when his attention was drawn to Peter.
Who was this guy? He definitely wasn’t Loretta. According to the FBI Database, Loretta was a 52 year old woman with flaming red hair, not a middle-aged man with a stocky build and an unwashed mullet. Rose watched with narrowed eyes as he walked toward Peter with crossed arms. He was tall and thickly built, and he had a large red mark on the back of his leg, causing him to limp. It looked almost like a bite of some sort.
Peter said something to the man, and Rose could see Pumpkin start whimpering and squirming in Peter’s arms, almost like she was trying to bury herself in his armpit. Rose didn’t like it. She grabbed her phone from her cupholder, prepared to do some more quick digging. She went back to Loretta Paulsen’s FBI profile, but this time she noticed that Loretta has a husband listed at the same address. Cletus Paulsen. Rose clicked into his file and saw a mugshot of the man who was currently chatting with her husband 20 feet away from her.
She narrowed her eyes and scanned through his file until she came across something that unsettled her so much that she choked on her own breath. No fucking way. She dropped her phone back into the cup holder and scrambled to open her car door.
She ignored the stinging pain in her back and the dull tightening of the muscles around her middle, and stepped out of the car. Peter was talking to Cletus in the yard and trying to subdue Pumpkin, who was now yapping and wiggling in his arms. Peter’s brow furrowed and his face tensed when he saw her walking towards them. She had promised him months ago that she would be more careful when it came to her safety, and she knew he wanted her to wait in the car, but she couldn’t.
She couldn’t let Peter hand Pumpkin over to this man.
She hurried her pace towards them and gasped in indignation when Cletus reached for Pumpkin and the little dog let out a scared yowl that tore at Rose’s heartstrings. Even Peter seemed startled by it and automatically brought another hand up to pat against her little body.
“Peter, don’t!” Rose called, feeling a little winded by the time she reached the pair of men. “You can’t give her to him!”
Cletus had both hands around Pumpkin’s body, prepared to lift her from Peter’s arm, and he jerked his head to the side to look at Rose. His face twisted into a scowl. “Who the hell are you?” he asked, voice gruff.
Peter made a noise of protest when Rose shoved Cletus’s hand off Pumpkin and then stepped between Peter and Cletus to grab Pumpkin from her husband and cradle the puppy to her chest. Pumpkin was shaking again, but she stopped making noise and buried her nose into Rose’s chest as soon as Rose took her in her arms.
“What the fuck?” Cletus hissed.
“Rose,” Peter warned, voice equally low and confused. Rose didn’t need to look to know that he had his arm extended slightly behind her - a tiny way to ensure he could get between her and the stranger in a split second.
Rose turned around and stepped back, letting herself stand half a step behind Peter’s shoulder while she glared towards Cletus. “We aren’t leaving Pumpkin with you,” Rose told the man, raising her chin defiantly.
A vein in Cletus’s temple pulsed. “What the fuck do you mean? That’s my dog!”
“Not anymore,” Rose retorted, hugging the shivering puppy closer to her body and narrowing her eyes at Cletus. Peter was silent, but Rose could feel the tension in his body just from standing close to him. He didn’t look at her; he just watched Cletus while he waited for her explanation.
Cletus’s hands balled into fists at his side. “You brought my dog back so you could steal it to my face? What the fuck is this?”
There was anger coursing through Rose’s veins now, and she tried to step forward towards Cletus, but Peter didn’t budge and hindered her progress. “What would I find if I looked behind that fence you have in the back?” she challenged, her voice low. Cletus blanched. Rose continued. “You’re not getting this dog, or any dog, ever again. I’ll make sure of it.”
Cletus’s face turned red and his eyes shifted between Rose and Peter. “You ain’t got no right–”
He stepped forward like he was going to try to grab Pumpkin from her, but Peter put a hand on the man’s chest, stopping him at the same time as Rose stepped backwards again so Pumpkin would be out of his reach. The puppy was still shivering and whimpering every time Cletus spoke, and it made Rose want to bash the man’s face in.
Rose scowled. “I don’t think a man who is on probation for felony dog fighting charges should be talking to me about my rights to keep a dog away from him.”
Peter’s jaw ticked in her peripheral vision, and Cletus snapped his mouth shut and glared between the two of them. “That’s right,” Rose told him. “You’re not allowed to even own a dog anymore. Convenient that this one is registered to your wife, isn’t it?”
Cletus’s face twitched in agitation and he ran a hand through his greasy hair. He waved a hand and then looked back at Peter. “Fine, keep the damn dog. I don’t fucking care. That one was the runt of the litter anyway. Just get off my property before I call the cops.”
Rose didn’t need to be told twice. She gave Cletus a fake smile, gripped Pumpkin tightly to herself so she wasn’t tempted to flip her middle finger up at the slimy man in front of her, then turned to walk back to the car. She heard Peter say something to Cletus, but it was too low for her to make out, before she felt his presence walking behind her.
Peter didn’t say anything to her as he opened the car door and offered her his hand to help her climb into her seat. His eyes narrowed on her face when she grimaced at the soreness in her hips and back, but she quickly assured him she was fine and then went back to rubbing Pumpkin’s soft ears to try to calm down the frightened puppy. Peter shut her door behind her and rounded the front of the SUV to his side.
“It’s ok,” Rose told Pumpkin softly. “We won’t leave you there. You never have to go back there again.”
Peter yanked his car door open and got inside, still quiet. He put the vehicle into reverse and started driving them away. Rose got a nice view of Cletus Paulsen mean-mugging them from his front yard, and she waved sweetly as they passed, then scowled and picked up her phone. The local PD was about to get an anonymous tip about Mr. and Mrs. Paulsen breaking their probation and continuing to train dogs for illegal fights. With any luck, that asshole would find himself behind bars soon enough.
Peter ran a hand over his face, drawing Rose’s attention. He was still a little tense from whatever the hell you’d call the confrontation with Cletus Paulsen. Rose set down her phone and looked at him. “I’m sorry for leaving the car, but that guy was sick. I couldn’t just sit here and let you hand her over to him.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched, but his grip on the steering wheel softened. “I know,” he conceded. He reached an arm over and scratched Pumpkin’s chin gently while keeping his eye on the road. “I knew there was something off when he told me she must have escaped through the fence even though we found her on the other side of the city.”
Rose scoffed and Pumpkin looked up at her with a cocked head. “That asshole probably dumped her because she’s small and won’t make a good fighting dog.”
Peter nodded. “You already send a tip to bust him?”
Rose smirked. “Cletus has maybe 10 minutes before the police show up.”
Peter’s lips pulled up at the corner and he glanced at her. She thought she saw a hint of pride in his eyes, but he turned his eyes back to the road before she could get a good look. Rose didn’t know where he was driving them to, but for now they’d head back toward the west end of the city - towards home. Then they’d make a plan.
Pumpkin squirmed in Rose’s arms until she set the little dog on her knees, and Pumpkin promptly sat up straight, looking between Peter and Rose with her tail wagging. Rose smiled and brushed her hand down the puppy’s back before settling it against her to make sure she stayed steady as the car moved.
After another minute, Peter sighed. “So…what are we doing with her now?”
They both knew who the ‘her’ was. Rose bit her lip and looked at Peter. He glanced at her again and frowned. “Rose…” he warned.
“We can’t just drop her off in some crowded animal shelter and trust that a good family will adopt her,” Rose explained, trying to keep her voice even.
Peter kept one hand on the wheel while he rubbed his jaw with the other. “We can’t adopt a puppy and have a baby in the same week, Rose.”
“Why not?”
He threw her a look. “We don’t even know how to take care of a puppy.”
She raised her eyebrows at him. “We don’t know how to take care of a baby either, but we’re doing that, aren’t we?”
Despite himself, he laughed and shook his head. “One life changing event is enough right now, don’t you think?”
Rose looked at Pumpkin, and the little dog stuck her tongue out and wagged her tail happily. Something tugged in her chest. “I’m a quick learner,” she told Peter defiantly. “Plus, I’m about to be outnumbered by boys in the house. Pumpkin can help even it out!”
Peter laughed again and ran a hand over his face. “Will we even have time for a puppy? What if we keep her and she’s miserable because we can’t take care of her?”
Rose’s face fell at the thought. He was probably right. Once the baby was born, he was going to need to be fed every few hours, bottles would need to be washed, laundry would need to be done, and sleep would become a precious commodity. How did a puppy fit into that? When would they have time to play with her? Or house train her?
Was keeping the puppy just her being selfish? Would she be doing it mainly because she thought it somehow proved she wasn’t like her mom?
And at the heart of it, wasn’t selfishness her mom’s main problem?
Oh God.
Rose’s stomach sank and she bit her lip. “You’re, um…” she started, struggling to keep her voice even. “You’re probably right. It would be a lot.”
Peter stopped at a stoplight, and she felt his concerned eyes on the side of her face. “Hey,” he said gently, drawing her attention to him by brushing his fingers against her shoulder. She looked at him, and he held her eyes with his warm brown ones. “We’ll make sure she gets placed with a great family, ok? It’s the right thing.”
Sweet Pea chose that moment to shift slightly, and it sent a tremor of hot pain through Rose’s lower back. “Oh shit,” she muttered to herself, wincing and leaning forward in her seat to try to wedge a hand behind her to rub her back. Pumpkin yapped on her lap and started pawing at her belly gently, and Peter set his hand on her back between her shoulder blades.
“What?” he demanded. “Are you ok?”
Rose grimaced and kept her hand rubbing against her lower back, but the flash of pain was subsiding. “Fine,” she grumbled. “I think your son is practicing his punches on my kidneys or something though.”
The light turned green, and Peter removed his hand and his gaze from her after a beat. He pressed his lips together, his hands tightening on the steering wheel, and then glanced at her again. His eyes were so apologetic she almost laughed. She should probably tease him less about their baby doing martial arts inside her abdomen. Peter was too prone to taking on guilt when he shouldn’t.
Rose sighed and picked up her phone, returning to the conversation they had been having before baby Sutherland interrupted. “I'll see if I can find a rescue that will rehome her,” she said aloud. Peter kept his eyes on the road, but he reached over and squeezed her hand in support, and she offered him a small smile.
Peter was right. Helping Pumpkin find the best home possible was the best way for her to prove she was capable of putting the needs of others before her own. Her mom had never mastered that skill, but Rose didn’t have to follow that same pattern. She could be the opposite of her mom.
The first rescue organization Rose called told her they were full.
The second rescue group told her the same.
The third told Rose that they would need her social security number in order to make an appointment to bring Pumpkin in, and Rose had smelled a scam so she hung up.
Rose was getting desperate by the sixth denial from a rescue dog organization. All of them were either full or refused to take Pumpkin because of the legalities of being owned by someone indicted for dog fighting. Apparently dogs who had been in that environment needed special rehabilitation. Rose had tried explaining that Pumpkin was just a puppy and that she was not even remotely aggressive, but rules were rules.
Peter was getting closer to the edge of town, closer to the highway they would need to take to get back home on the far outskirts of the city, when Rose determined miserably that she needed to call the animal shelter. The county-run animal shelter was far from her first choice for Pumpkin, but maybe they had connections to other agencies that could find the puppy a home.
Rose dialed and put the phone on speaker, balancing it on her knee next to where Pumpkin was sitting and watching her patiently.
“Baltimore County Animal Services,” a bored sounding woman answered on the fourth ring.
Rose took a deep breath and petted her hand down Pumpkin’s back to soothe her nerves. “Hello, hi, my name is Rose, and my husband and I found a puppy in the park this morning–”
“We’re full,” the woman interrupted rudely.
Rose blinked. “Ok, well, I’ve been calling different rescues for the last thirty minutes and no one will take her. Do you have any agencies you work with or–”
“Nope.”
Rose narrowed her eyes at the phone and Peter made an annoyed face from where he was focusing on the road.
“Listen,” Rose began, not sounding as friendly as she had in the beginning. “This puppy is perfect. She’s docile and sweet and she just needs a loving home. My husband and I are having a baby any day now, and we can’t keep her ourselves. Surely you have a nice foster family or something . Just point us in the right direction.”
The woman on the other end didn’t change her bored tone. “As I said, we’re full. You can bring the puppy here, but there’s a strict three day adoption policy because of the overcrowding.”
Rose frowned. “What does that mean? What if she isn’t adopted in three days?”
“Dogs that are unadoptable get euthanized, ma’am.”
“What?” Rose practically shrieked, jerking her attention to Peter. He was staring straight ahead, but his eyebrows were raised. “You’d kill a perfectly healthy puppy if no one adopts her in three days ?”
“It’s the shelter policy when we reach capacity. I told you, we are full. We would prefer you not bring the dog here so we don’t have to do that.”
Rose gripped Pumpkin’s little body and pulled the dog more closely against her. Like hell would she take this puppy to that shelter. “Don’t worry, we won’t be bringing her,” Rose snapped, then hung up the phone abruptly and looked at Peter again. “Can you believe that?”
Peter ran a hand over his jaw. “Yeah, that’s fucked. We’ll find somewhere else.”
Rose leaned her head back against the headrest and sighed. “Peter, I’m tired and my back is killing me. Can we just…take her home for now? We can regroup and make a plan once we get there?”
Peter looked at her and his face softened. He nodded and told her, “Yeah, ok.”
They stopped at a pet store as they passed to get Pumpkin a new harness that fit her better than the plastic collar around her neck, a leash, and some puppy food in case they ended up having to keep her at their house overnight. When Peter wasn’t looking, Rose snuck a cute little chew toy in the shape of a cheeseburger onto the conveyor belt at the register, but she saw his lips twitch when he paid the bill so she figured he probably noticed it anyway.
Rose convinced Peter to hit a McDonald’s drive through afterwards because it was past lunch time by now and she was starving. They sat in the car and ate since they figured a puppy wouldn’t be welcome inside a restaurant, and then Peter took Pumpkin out for a quick walk in her new harness around the edges of the McDonald’s parking lot while Rose sipped at her milkshake. She watched in growing amusement as Peter gestured at Pumpkin and said something to the little dog every time she stopped to sniff something. He looked frustrated, and it made Rose laugh to herself while she rubbed her sore side.
She really was ready to get home. Her back pain had now spread to her sides, and she was fantasizing about a nice, hot bath.
Peter opened the car door a few minutes later and lifted Pumpkin through it to set her on Rose’s lap. Rose bit her lip to stop from laughing at the sour look on his face. “What?” she questioned.
He only shook his head. “She wouldn’t go to the bathroom.”
Rose laughed and patted Pumpkin on the head idly. “Maybe she doesn’t have to go? The poor baby probably hasn’t been eating much since running away from home.”
Peter frowned. “She’s going to end up peeing in the car, just so you know.”
Rose tsked and rubbed Pumpkin’s ear. Pumpkin looked up at her happily with her tongue lolled out to the side of her mouth. “Is that right, Pumpkin?” The puppy started wagging her tail and Rose grinned. “Start barking if you have to go, ok, so I can make sure I hand you to Daddy.”
Peter rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched. “Great,” he muttered, making her laugh again.