"Are you sure this is gonna work?" asked Pete. He and Toby had already spoken with Rex, and now were facing up to stage two. Ironically, now it was Pete who felt like backing out.
"Trust me," Toby urged him. "Just remember what I said and talk to her from the heart." As an afterthought he added, "And try not to give her a heart attack."
Pete shook his head. "I'll try that," he answered. As Toby made himself scarce, Pete walked up to Trixie's porch and scratched the front door.
"Who is it?" came a voice from within.
Pete cleared his throat. "It's me," he said half-heartedly.
There was a terrified scream as Trixie recognized his voice. "Pete?!"
The husky grinned. "The one and only."
"But you're dead!"
Had he not felt the way he presently did, Pete would have smirked. "Funny, I didn't know dead dogs could talk."
Her voice was slightly uncertain as she asked, "What do you want?"
Pete took a deep breath and asked, "Can I come in, just for a second? It's kinda cold out here."
Inside the house, Trixie was terrified. Affirmation of Pete's demise had reached her weeks ago, and the thought of talking to someone who had previously been dead left her greatly unsettled. "I'm sure you can handle it. Now what is it?"
He swallowed hard. "I just want to say…I'm sorry." It sounded foreign and strange, as if he were speaking in some other language. Human, even. For all he'd gone through lately, that phrase hadn't come out of his mouth since he was a puppy.
"Sorry for what?" she asked, sounding sad, surprised, elated, confused and sullen all at once.
"I guess for saying that thing about…you know, us," he replied. "And for keeping on your case when you told me to back off and all." There was a long silence. Way too long for Pete.
"Ask her," hissed a voice from somewhere out of sight.
Pete looked around. "What?" he asked in a loud whisper.
"Remember what I told you," hissed Toby's voice again. "You've gotta ask her."
Pete inwardly groaned. He=d been hoping to avoid that part, but here it was. "Trixie," he began, "would you…uh, can you… Gah!" He grumbled in frustration. This wasn't coming out right. "Will you forgive me?"
There was a long silence again, broken at long last by Trixie's voice. "Well, not completely, no," she replied. "I don't think I could really just forget what a jerk you were."
No, no, no! thought Toby from under the porch. This wasn't how it was supposed to go!
"But," she added, "I think I can buy the idea that maybe, just maybe, you really have changed."
Pete got excited. "You mean we can pick up where we left off?" he asked.
"No," Trixie replied. "But we can pick up if you're willing to go for a blank slate."
Pete took a deep breath to steady himself and nodded, which was rather silly since she had no way of seeing him. "Deal," he agreed.
He could actually hear a somewhat shaken smile on Trixie=s face as she said, "Great. Listen, can we talk more tomorrow? I'm feeling a little―"
"Sure," he replied. "Bye, Trixie!"
"Bye, Pete."
Toby watched smiling as Pete walked away. There was a spring in the dog's step and a wag in his tail that hadn't been there in all the years Toby had known him. In fact, it hadn't been there since his father had died. Toby couldn't delve into Pete's thoughts, but he could guess the reason. Gone was the pain and emptiness, the taint of bitter hate, the mask of tough-guy indifference. For the first time in his adult life, he was finally free.