Must Love Dogs...and Hockey

by Kelly Jamieson

  He scowls. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Not kidding, no. I mean, yeah, she could have talked to you about it. Maybe that’s what she was trying to do when she mentioned it?”

  “She said it like it was a done deal. It pissed me off.”

  “I see that.”

  Cookie makes a face at me, like he doesn’t know what to say. I’m floundering myself here, but this is how I feel about it. “You should talk to her more,” I say. “But if you think she needed to get your permission to go off the pill, be prepared for her to flip the fuck out on you.”

  “I gotta agree with that,” Cookie says.

  “You two love each other, right?” I ask.

  Still frowning, Russ nods.

  “So talk. Maybe there are other birth control methods she could try. Or maybe she’s already ruled them out for some reason.”

  “You could get a vasectomy,” Cookie puts in helpfully.

  “Jesus Christ!” Russ bolts to sit straight. “I’m not getting the snip!”

  “All juice, no seeds,” Cookie says. “No problem.”

  I choke on a laugh.

  “Why not?” Cookie continues. “It’s usually reversible. If condoms are that big a problem for you, it’s one solution.”

  Russ’s mouth drops open.

  “Can’t argue with that,” I say mildly, taking a big swig of my beer. “How much do you want to keep having sex with her?”

  Russ slouches back into the couch. He lifts the beer bottle to his mouth and drains it. “Shit.”

  Great. Now Russ is pissed at me. I don’t want bad feelings between me and another teammate, but I’m not going to take his side on this. Why do guys ask for advice if they don’t even want to listen to it? I sigh inwardly. “Need another beer?”

  “Nah. I’m good.” He stands. “I’m gonna head up to my place.” He carries his empty over to the counter separating my kitchen from the living and dining area. “See you guys tomorrow.”

  “Be prepared for another bag skate,” I say dryly, following him to the door. “We good, man?”

  He rolls his eyes, his mouth in a frustrated line. “Yeah, yeah. We’re good. G’night.”

  I hope he’s being honest.

  When I return to the living room, I meet Cookie’s eyes. “A vasectomy?”

  Cookie cracks up. “Hey, why not?”

  I grin too as I sit. “And there’s another reason I don’t do relationships.”

  * * *

  —

  I don’t expect to see Lilly until Wednesday, but Tuesday afternoon I’m in the park with Otis when he starts straining at his leash. I look up and recognize Lilly and Lola approaching us on the path. Otis recognizes them before I do. I can’t help but smile at his excitement at seeing Lilly, and my steps quicken as Otis tugs me toward her.

  “Otis!” She stops and drops into a crouch to greet him. As he licks her chin, she smiles up at me. “Hi.” She pets him with mittened hands.

  Otis transfers his attention to Lola now, who thankfully accepts it. They’re so eager to sniff each other, they end up getting our leashes tangled up. Laughing, Lilly and I dance awkwardly around each other to untangle them.

  “We should take them to the dog run.” She gestures toward the nearby enclosed space. “We could let them off the leash.”

  I eye Otis doubtfully. “Do you think he’d behave?”

  “No better way to find out. You’re right there to step in if he doesn’t.”

  “True.”

  She faces me. She’s wearing the same jacket, hat, and scarf she wore on Sunday, the same sheepskin-lined boots on her feet. It’s a chilly day, overcast, and a pink flush tints her cheeks.

  We set off together toward the enclosure.

  “How was practice this morning?” she asks.

  “Brutal.” I grimace. “Coach wasn’t very happy about the loss last night.”

  She rolls her lips inward briefly. “So he punishes you for losing?”

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good way to motivate people,” she says matter-of-factly.

  “He’s kind of old-school.”

  “He needs to get with the times.”

  “I agree.”

  “Well, tell him that.”

  “Sure. I’ll tell him that. Then my ass will be riding the pine for the next month.”

  She flicks a glance sideways at me. “Riding the pine?”

  “Benched. As in, not playing.”

  “Ah.” She wrinkles her nose. “Yeah, that would suck.”

  “It’s happened.”

  “That’s stupid, though. You’re a good player. Doesn’t it just hurt the team if you’re not playing?”

  I grin. “Hell, yeah.”

  We arrive at the gate and I open it for Lilly and Lola. Otis and I follow them in and I cautiously unclip Otis’s leash. Lola zooms off and he chases her. There are only a couple of other dogs here right now, which is good for Otis’s first time. I don’t want him to get kicked out of the dog run and banned for life.

  “What kind of coach would hurt the team to punish one player?” Lilly asks.

  I squeeze my eyes shut briefly. “That wouldn’t be my coaching style. But I’m not the one who hired him. I just have to play for him.”

  She eyes me, her lips soft and pouty. “That’s not easy.”

  “Sometimes, yeah.” I shrug. “It is what it is.”

  She nods thoughtfully. I turn to look at Otis, chasing Lola and another dog. He looks happy. I feel the heaviness weighing on my shoulders lighten. Watching the dogs without a care in the world just running and playing definitely puts a smile on my face.

  And Lilly’s. I watch her watch the dogs, the breeze teasing strands of hair around her face, her lips curved into a sweet smile.

  “How’s business?” I ask. “Dog walking.”

  “Oh! I have a new client!”

  “Great! Congratulations.” My happiness is genuine. “Hey, my teammate Gunner mentioned the other day he could use someone to walk his dog. I gave him your name.”

  “Oh, thank you!” She beams a smile at me.

  “He lives a few blocks away from me, also on Riverside.”

  She nods. “That’s good. And his schedule is probably the same as yours.”

  “Yeah, except he has a girlfriend who helps, but she’s busy too. She’s a model.”

  “Of course she is,” she mutters under her breath.

  “So that’s great you’re getting more business.”

  “Well, one client isn’t a lot.” She makes a face. “I need more.”

  “What if…you used my name?” I ask. “I’m not super famous, but if you put my recommendation in your ads, maybe that would get some attention.”

  She turns to me, her indigo eyes wide. “Really?”

  “Yeah, sure. I gave you a recommendation.”

  She blinks rapidly and sucks on her bottom lip. “Um.”

  I tip my head. “Why not?”

  She looks away. “I feel I need to do this on my own.”

  I frown. “That’s crazy.”

  She frowns back at me. “Why is that crazy?”

  “Nobody starts a business on their own. You need other people. Like, businesses have employees. Contractors.”

  Her pretty lips compress. “I guess that’s true.”

  “I’m not even doing anything.” I hitch one shoulder. “Just letting you use my name.”

  She nods slowly.

  “It’s kind of like Coach benching the best player. It doesn’t make sense to hurt your business just because you don’t want a little help.”

  Her mouth softens and goddamn, I really
want to kiss that plump pout. “When you put it that way…”

  “Go for it.”

  “Okay.” She lifts her chin. “I will. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  We’re silent for a moment, watching the dogs play. We laugh when Otis gets going so fast he blows a tire and rolls in the dirt. “He’s going to need a bath when I get home,” I say. “I haven’t attempted that yet.”

  “That should be fun.” She pulls out her phone and checks the time. “I better get going. After I drop off Lola, I have to pick up Apollo. Lola! Lola, come!”

  Lola, well-trained girl that she is, trots over immediately. Luckily, Otis follows, because I doubt he’d come if I called him.

  “I need to watch some YouTube videos about obedience training,” I say, as we each clip the leashes back on the dogs’ collars.

  “I’ve been working with him a bit,” Lilly says. “I, uh, stayed a little while after I dropped him off yesterday and we tried some basic things. He’s smart.”

  “You need to show me what you’re doing.”

  “Well, I’m no expert.”

  “Still. Maybe you could bring him home on Thursday and show me then?”

  She doesn’t answer immediately. I give her what I hope is a harmless, friendly smile.

  “Okay,” she finally says with as much enthusiasm as if she were agreeing to clean up dog barf. “Sure.”

  Chapter 8

  Lilly

  I’m actually busy the next couple of days. Easton drops off Otis early Wednesday morning on his way to the airport to fly to Detroit. I have my new client, Apollo, who is a hilarious-looking Dachshund. His owner, who lives in the same building as Kent, seems like a very nice lady. I get a text message from Easton’s teammate and arrange to meet with him, his girlfriend, and their dog, a boxer named Loki. And I have a meeting with my lawyer, which is never fun, but we have a court date now, in January. This has taken so long, and it makes my stomach knot up with anxiety thinking about the end of it. At first, it consumed me, but after all these months, I’ve been able to shove it into the back of my mind and let the lawyers do their thing while I try to live my life. I’d probably walk away from it if it wasn’t just about me.

  I do my weekly video chat with my mom. I tell her about my new business venture. To say she’s not impressed is a definite understatement.

  “I hope you’re not spending money on this,” she says, her doubt clear in her voice.

  “I had to spend a little,” I say. “But it’s not like I have big expenses for this kind of business.”

  “Do you really think you can make money?”

  “Yes! I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t. There are so many people in the city who need help. I’ve got a few new clients already.” And maybe more, now that I’ve added Easton’s endorsement into my ad materials.

  “That’s good.” She sounds unconvinced.

  Much like Carlin.

  I’m annoyed and hurt. Why don’t they think I can do this? I’m not stupid. I have a business degree. I love dogs. All through high school, I volunteered at an animal shelter, and even now I still do, at Amsterdam Dog Rescue. It was a great way for me to feel useful when I couldn’t find a job.

  This just makes me more determined, though. Also grateful for Easton’s support. I was reluctant to take him up on his offer, but he was right, it’s stupid not to. I just don’t want to rely on any one person too much, because I don’t want to risk being let down again.

  Speaking of being let down…later that evening, I get a video call from Dad. Right in the middle of the hockey game, which the Bears are currently losing, dammit. But I haven’t talked to him for a while, so I mute the TV to take the call.

  Oh my God. I barely recognize him. I have to say I’m envious of where he is, though—the background is turquoise water, pale sand, and palm trees against a clear blue sky. He’s at Paradise Beach on Bantayan Island, which I will have to google to determine the exact location.

  “You should come join me!” Dad says when I tell him how beautiful it looks.

  “Sure, Dad. If you’ll pay for my plane ticket, I’ll be there in a jiff.”

  He laughs as if I’m joking. I don’t think he remembers I’ve been unemployed for nearly two years.

  “I’ve started a new business,” I tell him. “But you’ll probably be home before I make enough money for a plane ticket to the Philippines.”

  “What kind of business?”

  “Walking dogs. And dog sitting.”

  “That’s great, honey! Follow your heart. Do what you want.”

  Well, at least Dad’s supportive, which isn’t surprising since he’s the master of following his heart and doing what he wants. Never mind thinking about anyone else. Ugh. Is that what I’m doing? I owe Carlin money. I think she wants to move out. I owe Mom a little money too. I owe my bank a lot of money. Am I being foolish by doing this instead of getting a job?

  “If you don’t follow your heart, you risk spending the rest of your life wishing you did,” Dad adds.

  I pause. “Is that what happened to you, Dad? Are you doing this because you always wanted to?”

  “Yeah.” He seems surprised I’m asking. “Of course. I always wanted to travel and learn new things. But real life got in the way. And then one day you realize…” He pauses, looks away from the camera, then back. “If you don’t do it now, you never will. And in the end, we only regret the chances we didn’t take, the relationships we were afraid to have, and the decisions we waited too long to make.”

  I go very still. “Dad. Are you dying? Is that why you’re doing this?”

  A laugh burst out of him. “No! Good God, why would you think that?”

  “You just sounded like you’re at the end of your life.”

  “No, no, of course not. I mean, I hope not.” He chuckles. “But I am a lot older than you and I know what it’s like to look back with regrets.”

  I nod slowly. “Okay.” I get it. I just wished he’d done it differently. “Tell me what you’ve been doing.”

  He talks about how peaceful the island is, how it feels almost therapeutic to be there, about kayaking through a mangrove forest and strolling the white sand beaches. “Tomorrow I’m going cliff diving.”

  “Jesus!” I straighten. “Dad!”

  “What? It’ll be fine.”

  I squeeze my eyes closed briefly and breathe. “I guess I can’t convince you not to.”

  He laughs. “Nope. Don’t worry, chickpea, I’ll be fine.”

  “Okay. I…do you know when you’re coming home?”

  He rubs his nose. “I’m not feeling it yet.”

  “Mom needs you.”

  “She’s fine! I just talked to her.”

  I don’t know what to say. Is it possible Mom is doing better than I think? “What about me?” I swallow. “I’d like to have my dad here. Things have been…tough.”

  “You’re a strong young woman,” he says. “And I may not be physically there, but I’m always here for you.”

  I swallow my sigh. He was there for me when I lost my job, and when I had to make a decision about what to do. And he does check in with me. “Right,” I say. “Thanks, Dad.”

  Our call ends. I turn up the volume on the TV and see that the Bears have tied it up. Yay.

  Otis is asleep at the far end of the couch, and I pick him up and hold him. I might regret waking him because now he’ll want to play, but puppy cuddles feel really good right now.

  I just want to feel like I’m a success at something. Being unemployed made me feel like a huge loser. Job hunting and all the rejections that came with that are killer on the self-esteem. Being in debt only makes it all worse. Some days it feels like I’m in a huge hole and I’ll never be able to dig myself out of it. Why even try?

 
I blow out a long exhalation. Those are the kinds of catastrophic thoughts that dragged me into depression. I have to stop that right now. I’m not a loser. I was wrongfully terminated. I’m fighting back. Soon, I’ll be vindicated.

  I hope.

  I give Otis a squeeze, and he wriggles in my arms and jumps free of me just as the Bears score a goal. With a laugh, I pump a fist into the air. “Yeah!”

  Otis gives a sharp bark and spins.

  “Attaboy! That’s how you cheer for your dad!”

  Somehow, I don’t think Easton considers himself Otis’s dad. The thought makes me smile.

  I tried to snoop a little at his apartment to learn more about him, but that didn’t give me much to go on. I stayed out of his bedroom. But when I ran into him at the park yesterday and we were hanging out with the dogs, I felt like I saw a different side of him. A softer, more relaxed side. He pretends he doesn’t care, but I think he likes Otis. His smile watching his pup run around and have fun made my heart bump against my sternum.

  He was so tense and short when he talked about his coach and the game. And then Otis made him laugh and loosen up. I never thought about the kind of pressure that professional athletes are under. They may play a sport for a living, but apparently it’s not all fun and games. I want to know more about what’s going on with Easton that makes him so edgy and cynical at times.

  But that’s none of my business. He’s a client. A hot, enigmatic client, but not someone whose hopes and dreams and baggage I need to know all about. And he doesn’t need to know mine.

  I’m reminding myself of that when I get to his place the next morning, having walked over there with Otis. The weather’s ugly, with a steely sky and biting wind. It’s a relief to stumble through the brass revolving door into the elegant lobby of Easton’s building. I recognize Javier at the security desk, and he smiles. “Good morning, Ms. Evans. And Otis.”

  “Good morning.” I tug my scarf looser around my neck and cross the marble floor toward Javier and the elevators behind him.

  “Chilly day, isn’t it?”

  “It sure is!”

  As usual, Otis starts to freak out as we near the elevators and I have to pick him up. He trembles in my arms all the way to Easton’s floor. What a baby.