The Hunt
"They're so normal."
Luisa lit her cigarette and snapped the lighter shut. "And how is that a problem?"
"I didn't say it was a problem. But they named their dog Spot."
"The dog does have a spot, Rachel."
It was true. The dog in question had a spot. And as dogs went, Spot was okay—not too yappy or slobbery. In fact, he was a completely normal dog, exactly right for his owners, Charles and Susan Forrest, my future in-laws and the source of all this rampant normalcy.
The phrase my future in-laws still felt unreal to me, even though Peter and I had been engaged for several months now and in spite of the very real engagement party we were currently attending at the Forrests' San Francisco home. Or, to be more accurate, the engagement party from which Luisa and I were sneaking a break. She had wanted a cigarette, and the sight of my family mingling with Peter's family, especially our grandmothers with their heads close together, undoubtedly hammering out just how many children we should have, was enough to make a little second-hand smoke seem nearly appealing.
We'd slipped out of the house through the side door and walked the short distance to the top of ... read full excerpt from: The Hunt ebook
