One late afternoon she watched a puppy playing in the surf and smiled at its silly antics. Eventually she noted that it didn't seem to be accompanied by anyone. She continued watching and waiting for someone to call it. Finally, she went to the refrigerator, took out a piece of cheese, and went outside to get a closer look.

The puppy was a mutt, part lab perhaps. She called it and it ran full speed to her, gobbling up her cheese and muddying her shirt as it jumped up on her. She scolded it and pushed it away from her, but the lout refused to be deterred and was immediately back up on all fours, straining to lick her face. She pushed it away again, "down!" she commanded firmly. The puppy decided she was playing and barked at her, running around in circles. He had no collar, Virginia noticed. She sat in the sand and the puppy was all over her, jumping up, pushing her back, and licking her face furiously. Virginia did her best to hold him off, but in the end she lost the battle and surrendered. She played with the puppy, allowing him to kiss her, chase her, and gently chew on her hands. She found herself laughing as she ran at full speed away from him. He caught her - no matter how fast she ran or how many sharp turns she took - he still caught her…

Virginia wasn't surprised when he followed her to the cottage; she'd hoped that he would. He raced around the living room, the kitchen, and into the bedroom where he promptly settled on her bed. She scolded him, told him to get down. He just looked at her innocently. She pushed him off and he scampered after her into the kitchen. "You can stay the night, but then we're going to figure out who you belong to," she told the puppy. He sat before her, looking up into her eyes lovingly. She reached down to stroke his head.

The pair shared Mavis's chowder and after Virginia finished the dishes, settled in the living room to watch television. The puppy rested his head on her leg, and she stroked him while waiting for her nightly sleeping pills to take effect.

Her grief returned as the darkness descended. She thought of Mark, his mouth, his arms, and his smile. She remembered that awful night. She'd just gotten out of the hospital and was recovering from her mastectomy. She could still hear him telling her that he'd always love her but that he couldn't live with her anymore. She remembered how sad and defeated he'd looked, the guilt emanating from him. He'd never love Sandy the way he'd loved her, he assured her, but he needed to start his life again. Sandy loved him and was pregnant. He wanted a divorce. He would make sure that she was well cared for. She would never have to worry about money he promised. On and on he talked. Finally he took her in his arms. She allowed him to hold her. She was numb at first, disbelieving. Finally, the magnitude of his words hit her. She pulled away from him, started to scream and smashed her fists into his face. She was still screaming like a mad woman when he slammed the door behind him.

She wondered for the thousandth time, what he was doing now. Was he snuggled up on his own couch with his wife and son? Was he happy? Did she and Cara haunt him still? The tears came. Soon she was trembling, then shaking and sobbing. She felt something cold and wet on her cheek, a warm body pressed against her. She pushed the puppy away violently. He yelped as he hit the floor, but was immediately back up again. He whined and desperately tried to claw her hands away from her face. She curled her body forward in an attempt to protect herself. Her hands were bleeding when she gave in and put her arms around him, holding him close, matting his soft fur with tears.

Someone was knocking at her door and the puppy was barking. "Shit!" she scowled; she'd forgotten her promise to go to church with Mavis this Sunday. She rolled off the couch and stumbled toward the door. "Dam girl, I was getting worried about you!" scolded Mavis. The puppy kept barking as Mavis pushed her way past it. "What the hell is this? You got yourself a dog? Don't tell me. You've got ten minutes to get ready, now I don't want to hear any arguing, so get your ass in gear and get dressed!"

Virginia swore and headed to her bedroom with the puppy trailing behind her.

She sat quietly beside Mavis, irritated and resentful. The little church was filled. Mavis had introduced her to so many people that all Virginia could finally do was nod her head woodenly. 'Where the hell did all these people come from?' she wondered bitterly.

Pastor MacLachlan began his sermon. Virginia smirked, what a hypocrite, this sheltered old man was going to talk to her about heaven and hell. She was agitated. She didn't want to listen. She looked around. It was a modest building, the benches were old and uncomfortable, and the tapestries were worn. The room seemed to be filled with mostly old folks and children. She sure as hell didn't belong here.

Pastor MacLachlan was speaking about a woman named Ruth. Virginia knew very little about the Bible, and this was the first time she'd heard about Ruth. The pastor was explaining that Ruth had suffered greatly. She'd lost her husband and left behind her homeland. She was poor and worked very hard gathering fallen grain in the fields of Bethlehem to feed herself and her mother-in-law. She was a young woman with a very strong faith for which she was rewarded.

Virginia had no faith and no rewards. Suddenly she found herself longing to believe in the goodness and existence of God. But how could she? What kind of a God would allow such terrible things to happen? It seemed simpler to accept that there was no God. 'There is no God you foolish bastard. Don't you get it you stupid old man? How can there be a God?' she protested bitterly and in silence.

The little chorus began to sing. The music was soft and soothing, while imperfect voices sang true and sweet. Tears slid down Virginia's cheeks. What ever else she found or didn't find here, she'd found her tears, a fresh new supply that once again seemed as endless as her grief.

That night for the first time since she'd arrived in Hamden, she slept in her bed. The puppy snuggled up against her back, his head facing the door. He would guard her.

Virginia continued going to church with Mavis. Not because she believed, she just liked to listen to Pastor MacLachlan's stories, told with his gentle voice. She liked the singing, too. Most of all, she came to appreciate the peacefulness she began to feel there.

Still, she refused to join the congregation for fellowship lunches, and Mavis was wise enough not to push.