Beneath the Surface

Margaret stood at the edge of the hotel pool at midnight, the water still and black as obsidian. In her hand she clutched her husband's fedora—that ridiculous thing he'd worn to their wedding fifteen years ago, before the promotions and the late nights and the gradual erosion of everything they'd promised each other.

She'd come to San Diego for what was supposed to be a conference, but really she'd come to decide whether to stay. The divorce papers sat in her hotel room, unsigned.

A rustling sound came from the pool chairs. Margaret startled, dropping the hat. A golden retriever emerged from the shadows, tail wagging, and nudged the fedora with its nose.

"Where did you—" she began, then stopped. The dog wore a collar with a small metal tag: 'Property of Room 312.'

Room 312. Where David was staying.

The dog picked up the hat gently in its mouth and trotted toward the hotel entrance, looking back once as if expecting her to follow. Margaret stood frozen. This was absurd. She should go back to her room, sign the papers, catch the morning flight.

Instead, she followed.

The dog led her to Room 312 and sat by the door, whining softly. Margaret knocked before she could talk herself out of it.

David opened the door, half-dressed, eyes widening when he saw her. Then he saw the dog. "Buster? How did you—" His gaze shifted to Margaret, really saw her for the first time in years. "You're wearing your hair like you did at the reception."

"I was going to leave you," she said. "I came here to end it."

David stepped aside. "Buster ran off three hours ago. I've been searching everywhere." He paused. "I've been searching for a lot of things."

The dog deposited the fedora at David's feet and lay down between them, head on paws, as if settling in for a long wait.

Margaret looked at the dog, at the hat, at the man she'd loved and lost and maybe found again. "We could start with breakfast," she said.

David's hand trembled when he reached for hers. "Buster makes a terrible chaperone."

"He's the only one who knew where to find me," she said, and stepped across the threshold.