Lila and Hadley

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Lila and Hadley Page 13

by Kody Keplinger


  Beth sighs. “Okay. It’s good news, actually. About Lila. We think we’ve found her a home.”

  My hands fall away from Lila as I stare back at my sister. “You … Lila … Wait, what?”

  Beth sets her phone aside and folds her hands in her lap. “Vanessa felt so confident in all the work you’ve been doing with Lila that she went ahead and put her picture up on the rescue’s website,” she explains. And she’s doing that thing with her voice again, where it goes all soft, like she’s talking to a little kid. “She didn’t put up any of her information yet or anything. Just a note that she’d be available for adoption soon. But someone called the rescue today.”

  “Why does that matter if she ain’t ready to be adopted yet?” The words come out forceful and angry. “I’m still training her. I’m still—”

  “I know,” Beth says. “I know, Hadley. And normally Vanessa would have just told the person that. Asked them to wait awhile. But the person who called … she thinks Lila is her dog.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Beth slides off the couch and comes to sit on the floor with Lila and me, her legs folded. She reaches out and strokes Lila’s back. Lila doesn’t move away from her. Instead, her tail thumps against the floor. And I realize just how much she really has changed since we brought her here.

  “The woman who called the rescue recognized Lila’s picture,” Beth says. “She thinks Lila is her dog. Or was her dog. She misses her, and she wants her back.”

  “And Vanessa is just gonna give her back?” I demand.

  “She’s going to meet her first. And she wants us to come to the rescue to meet her, too. With Lila. To see how Lila reacts to her.”

  “Why is she giving her a chance at all?” My voice is loud now. Almost yelling. I don’t wanna be, but I can’t help it. My chest feels tight and my hands are shaking.

  “Hadley …”

  “Lila ended up in a shelter,” I say. “Because y’all got her out of the shelter, right? That’s how she got to Right Choice. But how’d she wind up in a shelter to begin with? If this woman wants her back, she never should’ve lost her in the first place.”

  “I don’t think she gave Lila up on purpose,” Beth says. She’s still petting Lila, but her other hand reaches out to touch my shoulder. I jerk away. My sister sighs. “Vanessa had a long talk with her today. She had the same question as you. It sounds like Michelle—that’s the woman’s name—went through … a hard time. She had to go away for a while, and Lila got taken to the shelter. But Michelle is doing better now, and she’s been looking for Lila for some time.”

  “Had to go away to where?”

  Beth runs a hand through her hair. “I normally wouldn’t tell you this, but Michelle was very open about it, and Vanessa got her permission to share after she explained where Lila was.” Still, she hesitates for a minute before answering. “Michelle was arrested about a year ago. She went to jail. Lila was with her when it happened, so the police took Lila to a shelter. And then Right Choice took her in a few months later.”

  “No.”

  “No what?”

  “She can’t have Lila back.”

  “Hadley, I know you love Lila. And you’ve done a real good job with her. But we can’t keep her.”

  “That ain’t the point,” I snap. But maybe it is. Just a little. “This lady went to jail. People go to jail because they’ve done something wrong. Something bad. Why should she get Lila back if she did something bad enough to go to jail?”

  “People mess up sometimes. And sometimes they try really hard to make up for it and do better,” Beth says softly. “Vanessa says Michelle seems to have gotten her life together. And she loves Lila and misses her a whole lot.”

  “She should’ve thought about that before she messed up, then,” I mutter. “It’s too late. Y’all can’t give her back to this lady.”

  “We want what’s best for Lila. Vanessa and I aren’t just gonna hand her over without making sure it’s the right thing to do. Which is why Vanessa wants all of us to come to the rescue to meet her this Saturday.”

  “I ain’t doing it.”

  “Yes, Hadley, you are.” She reaches out and puts her hand on my shoulder again, and when I try to jerk away, she tightens her grip, just slightly. I look up at her. “You love Lila, right?”

  I try to shrug, but even as I do, I can’t help answering truthfully. “Yeah.”

  “Then think about it from Lila’s perspective,” Beth suggests. “She might really love Michelle, and she might miss her a lot. If it turns out Michelle could have a good home for her, doesn’t Lila deserve to be with her again?”

  I look down at Lila, whose head is resting in my lap now. She’s staring up at me with those big, dark eyes. They look almost concerned. And I’m annoyed to realize I’m having to blink back tears.

  “How do you know this lady really cares about her, though?” I ask. My voice comes out choked. “If she messed up bad enough to get arrested and get taken away from Lila, how do you know she really cares about her? And what if it happens again?”

  “I can understand why that’s something you’re afraid of, but sometimes people do learn from their mistakes,” Beth says. Her hand on my shoulder is gentle now. “You can meet her this weekend. I promise you, Hadley, if Vanessa or I—even for a second—think Michelle won’t take care of Lila or that Lila won’t be happy with her, we won’t just hand her over. We want Lila to be happy. And we have to give her that chance to be. You love her. You’ve been so good for her. And I know you want her to be happy.”

  “If … if she’s awful, you won’t make Lila go?”

  “Of course not.”

  “And if she is okay … does that mean Lila will just leave with her? This weekend?”

  “No,” Beth says. “It won’t be that quick. Vanessa is going to interview her and do a home visit—make sure she’s got enough space for Lila and all that. And then we’re going to meet her, make sure she and Lila get along. Make sure Lila seems like she’ll be happy with her. And if all that goes well, there will still be paperwork to do. Lila will stay with us for a few more days while we wrap things up.”

  I nod, but I don’t say nothing. I’m pretty sure if I do, I won’t be able to stop myself from bawling.

  “It’s gonna be okay, Hadley.”

  But I ain’t so sure she’s right about that.

  “Okay,” Beth says, giving Lila one last pet before pushing herself to her feet. “Why, um … why don’t I heat up some of those leftover pulled pork sandwiches? I know it’s a bit early for dinner but … but yeah. I’m gonna make us sandwiches, okay?”

  I don’t answer. I don’t think Beth expects me to. I keep my head down and listen to her footsteps as she walks into the kitchen. My eyes stay on Lila’s face. She’s still staring back at me.

  I lean down and press my face against the top of Lila’s head and wrap my arms around her.

  And then I stop trying to hold back the tears.

  I just let myself cry into Lila’s fur.

  I barely say a word to Beth on Saturday morning. She tries to talk to me over breakfast, but I can’t bring myself to do anything besides shrug or nod. Eventually, she gives up, and after I feed Lila, the three of us climb into my sister’s car and head to the rescue.

  Vanessa is waiting for us outside, by the front door. She smiles and gives Beth a kiss on the cheek before saying, “Michelle’s already here. We were just chatting by the dog run around back.”

  “And?” Beth asks. I can tell she’s nervous. But hopeful, too. It makes me feel sick to my stomach.

  “And she seems really sweet,” Vanessa says. “She’s excited to see Lila. I did warn her, of course, that there’s a chance she’s mistaken and this isn’t her dog. And even if it is, that Lila’s not the most outgoing. She might not remember her or be excited to see her. She says she understands all that, though.”

  “Good,” Beth says.

  Vanessa turns to me. “How are you, Hadley?”


  I shrug and look away.

  My sister clears her throat. “Vanessa, we should probably just …”

  “Ah. Right. Well, follow me, then. She’s waiting for us around back.”

  My right hand clenches around the handle of my cane and my left grips Lila’s leash real tight as we follow Vanessa around the side of the building. Behind the dog rescue, there’s a huge fenced-in area. Kinda like the dog park near Beth’s house, but a whole lot bigger. My guess is that they bring some of the dogs out here to play and get exercise, but right now it looks and sounds pretty empty. Vanessa opens the gate and gestures us inside.

  That’s when I hear her voice. A woman’s voice, soft and nervous, calling out, “Lila?”

  Lila sees her before I do. I know because her tail starts wagging and she starts pulling on the leash, harder than she has in ages. So hard that I can’t keep hold, and she’s tugged herself free of my grip before I can even see who she’s running toward.

  I see the woman right as Lila barrels into her outstretched arms.

  She’s got pasty white skin and bright orange-red hair that falls around her shoulders in wild, big curls. Even though she’s crouched down, I can tell she ain’t real tall. Maybe my height. She’s too far for me to make out much else. Not that I need to. I can see the important part.

  Lila is jumping all over her, tail wagging, paws flying everywhere. She’s yipping and whimpering and just … acting like I’ve never seen Lila act before. I stand there, staring, without a single word to say.

  After a minute, Lila breaks away from the redheaded woman—Michelle, I’m guessing—and runs over to me, leash still dragging behind her. She hops up, paws tapping my chest for just a second, before she lands on the ground again and takes off toward Michelle once more. Like she’s saying, “Hadley! Did you see? Look who’s here!”

  When she runs back into Michelle’s arms, I can hear the young woman saying, “Lila … Lila, I missed you. Good girl. Good, sweet girl,” in a broken and croaky voice. She’s crying.

  And she ain’t the only one.

  “I guess she does remember you,” Beth says. When I look over at her, she’s wiping her eyes and Vanessa’s arm is around her.

  “I think she does,” Michelle says. She stands up, but it takes some effort with Lila doing her best to climb into her lap. Even once she’s standing, the dog keeps running around her legs, jumping and whining. Like she’s happy-crying the way Michelle and Beth are.

  I ain’t crying, though. I don’t feel happy, either. I feel hollow.

  “I’m Michelle,” the young woman says as she stumbles toward us, tripped by Lila and her dragging leash. “Sorry. I should’ve introduced myself. I just got a little distracted.”

  “No, no. That’s understandable,” my sister replies. “I’m Beth. I do some work training the dogs here. And this is my baby sister, Hadley. We’ve been—”

  “You’re the ones who’ve been fostering Lila, right? Vanessa told me. It’s real nice to meet y’all.” She turns to look at me, still wiping her eyes. “She, uh … Vanessa says you’re the one who’s really been takin’ good care of my girl. Thank you. It means a lot to know Lila was so well loved.”

  “No thanks to you,” I mutter.

  “Hadley!” Beth scolds.

  “No, no,” Michelle says. “I get it. You probably wanna know how Lila ended up in a shelter.”

  “I already know,” I say, and I ain’t trying to hide the bitterness in my voice. “You went to jail—because you did something bad—and you left her alone.”

  “That’s not entirely wrong, no. But … Why don’t we sit down?”

  “Michelle,” Beth says, “you don’t have to explain—”

  “No. I do,” Michelle replies. “If I was in Hadley’s boat and someone just showed up claiming a dog I cared about was theirs, I’d want to know answers. Besides … it ain’t something I’m gonna bother lying about.” She turns back to me. “Come on. Let’s, um … Let’s go sit down over here to talk. There’s a bench in the shade.”

  I almost tell her no. Tell her I don’t want her stupid answers. But when I look down, there’s Lila, still running around Michelle’s legs, still wagging her tail. She’s a completely different dog. A happier one. All because Michelle is here.

  “Fine,” I say. “We can talk.”

  Vanessa and Beth decide to stay at a distance while Michelle and I take our seats on the bench at the edge of the dog run. I keep my eyes on my feet the whole time, glad for my tunnel vision for once. I don’t wanna look at anyone right now.

  “So, where do I start?” Michelle says.

  I shrug.

  “Well, I got Lila a few years back. I was living in an apartment, and the minute I found out they allowed pets, I went out and adopted a little pit bull puppy from a shelter. I guess they’d found Lila’s mama and her litter under the porch of an abandoned house? That’s what they told me, at least. Lila was only a couple months old. And she was this happy, adorable puppy. I fell in love with her immediately. And at first, things were all right. It was just the two of us.”

  I try and imagine Lila like that—a happy, excitable little puppy. If you’d described her like that to me a few days ago, I would’ve been sure you were lying. But now, after the way I’ve seen her act today with Michelle, I can almost picture it. A tiny puppy running around with a toy—probably a tug rope—hanging out of her mouth, tripping over paws that are still too big for her body, staring at you with eyes that are still too big for her head, that’s not quite yet massive like it will be one day.

  I wish I’d known her back then.

  “But then … a year or so after that … things weren’t so good,” Michelle continues. “The company I was working for went bankrupt and had to close down, so I lost my job. And I was having trouble finding a new one. Then my landlord raised the rent on my apartment, so I couldn’t afford to live there anymore. I wasn’t on good terms with my grandparents at the time—they’re the ones who raised me—so I didn’t think I could ask them for help. Everything just sorta tumbled down at once. And, before I knew it, Lila and I were pretty much living out of my car.”

  Lila has finally calmed down now. She flops onto the ground, stretching across both mine and Michelle’s feet. My narrow field of vision is focused right on her wagging tail.

  “I kept trying to look for a job, but when you don’t got a real address, that’s hard. And it just … It wasn’t getting easier.” I can hear Michelle swallow, loud, before she goes on. “The reason I got arrested is because I got caught shoplifting. I was trying to steal some food for Lila and me. The manager called the police, and I was arrested. At the time, I didn’t have anyone I could call to come take her. So the police officer said they’d have to put her in a shelter.” Michelle sniffles. I figure she’s probably crying now. “I told them her name was Lila, and to make sure the people at the shelter knew it so when I got out, I’d be able to find her easier. But I had no idea how long that would be or if they’d even let me take her back.”

  “So you went to jail for stealing,” I say. My voice is flat. Cold.

  “Yeah,” Michelle answers. “Trying to, at least. It was wrong. I went about things the wrong way. But I … Lila was all I had at that point. I wanted to take care of her. I didn’t want either of us to go hungry.”

  “But you sure weren’t taking care of her after you got arrested.”

  “I know.”

  “She was probably in that shelter feeling lonely. And scared. And missing you. And mad at you for messing up so bad you had to leave her.” I grit my teeth and squeeze my eyes shut tight. Because now I’m the one starting to cry.

  “I’m sure she was,” Michelle says. “And believe me, if I had it to do over again, I would. I’d do it real different. I’d find some other way. But at the time, I was panicked and worried about taking care of the both of us. It was a stupid decision. But … But I’ve been working to make things better.”

  “How?”

  “Wel
l, I wasn’t in jail very long, but while I was there, I did reach out to my grandparents. It wasn’t easy, but we started working on mending our fences. We’d had a falling out years before because of a guy I was dating that they didn’t like. Turns out they’d been right, but I was stubborn and so were they. But after everything fell apart, it made us all put things into perspective, I guess. So once I was released, I went to live with them. They helped me find a new job, and once I got a little more stable, they helped me find a new place to live. It’s taken some time and patience, but I’m in a good spot now. I’ve tried to learn from the mistakes I’ve made.”

  “What about Lila?”

  “I started looking for her the day I got out of jail,” Michelle tells me. “I contacted the police department to find out what shelter they’d taken her to. But by the time I got in touch with the shelter, she was already gone. And I had no way of knowing what other shelter or rescue she was in or if she’d been adopted by somebody else. All I could do was keep looking. I figured it was a long shot of ever finding her, but I couldn’t … I couldn’t just give up, you know?”

  “How long have you been looking for her?” I ask.

  “At least a year now,” Michelle says.

  My eyes are still closed, but I feel two heavy paws press into the tops of my thighs and a warm wet tongue begin to lap at my cheeks. I open my eyes and find myself nose-to-nose with Lila. I reach up and scratch behind her ears.

  “I’m okay,” I mumble to her. “Thank you, Lila.”

  Lila licks the tip of my nose before pushing off my lap and going back over to Michelle. She sits right in front of her, looking up at her with big eyes that ain’t so sad anymore. Her mouth even hangs open a little, making it look like she’s smiling.

  “She loves you,” I say to Michelle. “It’s real obvious.”

  Michelle laughs as she reaches down to rub Lila’s head. “She’s a good girl. I love her, too.”

  And, despite everything, I believe her.

  She did something bad. She broke the law and that made her lose Lila. But … But it’s impossible to look at Michelle and not see how much she cares for this dog. Even when you’re nearly blind, like I am. And Lila clearly loves her, too. I think that’s why she was so sad for so long. She missed her person. And now that she’s found her again, I’d be a real jerk to keep them apart.

 

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