Puppy Love

by Smith, L. T.

  Emily was still in the same spot I had left her, her expression unreadable.

  I let out a huge breath. “When I was twenty, I came out. I told my parents I was gay, and I expected we would move on from there. Abbie didn’t care; I was still Ellie. My parents…” I clicked my tongue, “…weren’t so understanding.”

  “Oh, Ellie, I’m so sorry.”

  I shrugged. The time for ruing the lack of parental acceptance was well past its “sell by” date. “I haven’t spoken to them in nearly thirteen years.” This wasn’t about them, though. This was about the “why,” although maybe they were at least a part of the reason. I didn’t know for sure.

  I no longer cared as much about the rejection from my parents. Too much had happened in my life since then for me to fret over their insensitivity and inability to love me no matter what. Unlike Toby.

  “Abbie and Rob took me in. Gave Toby and me a home. Got me on my feet again. I lost Toby to cancer five years ago. I had to have him euthanised. It was the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make.”

  I was finding it difficult to talk. My throat seemed to have swollen, and words were becoming trapped. I begged myself not to start crying, not in front of Emily. It seemed, of late, the waterworks turned on easily, and I couldn’t seem to completely shut off the flow. 2012 was turning into the year of crying. It seemed as if that was all I had done since yesterday.

  Emily moved closer to me, her face full of concern. Her hand reached towards mine, but stopped.

  It didn’t take a genius to work out why I had fallen so hard for Charlie, although I knew he was not Toby, and he would never replace my lad. Charlie would always be Charlie, and even if he did look his predecessor, there were many differences between them. For a start, Toby never liked red balls. At that thought, I snorted, a laugh that immediately turned into a sob. It was so hard to hold in the emotion. At that moment, undoubtedly people who had never had a pet would have been wondering what all the fuss was about.

  Emily’s arms slipped around me, and it was her turn to be the comforter.

  Being held by Emily was something I knew I would never tire of. It seemed as if I slotted right into the circle of her protection and, as long as I was there, nothing and no one could hurt me.

  She let me cry. When the tears finally turned into gasping, she led me to the kitchen and plonked me down on one of the dining chairs. When Emily moved away from me, I immediately felt the loss of our contact. The sound of a kettle being filled, the click of the switch, and she was back, pulling a chair close to me.

  I lifted my head and looked deeply into her eyes. It wasn’t pity I saw there, but understanding.

  Her hand stretched out and she caught my fingers with hers, her thumb stroking the back of my thumb. She was thinking something over. I could tell by the way she nibbled her bottom lip, the way her eyebrows dipped.

  “Look.” She straightened, but didn’t release her hold on my hand. “We can both see Charlie.”

  I didn’t understand.

  “They always say that it isn’t a person who chooses a dog, but the other way around.”

  I still didn’t get it. Call me thick—I do on a regular basis.

  “After the month is up, we will see who Charlie has bonded with most closely, okay?”

  What? “I don’t understand.”

  A delightful giggle came from her mouth. “We will let Charlie decide who he wants to live with. But,” she leaned closer, “we will see him together. No sneaking off to get extra time with him, okay?”

  I nodded. At least it was a start. It might turn out that after a month, I was still no better off, but at least I would be friends with the person that loved the same dog I did. It seemed like a plan.

  Chapter Three

  Two hours later I pulled up outside my house. I’d looked over the work Emily wanted done, and it wasn’t as extensive as I first believed. I should have it completed by the time D-Day arrived. Her house still needed some renovation, but most of the larger jobs were already done—new central heating and windows, roofing tiles replaced, plumbing working. The landscaping would be a case of cosmetic surgery. She would be working inside, while I was working out. And because I was spending time at her place, it would be easier for us to visit the Dogs Trust. Together. That made me smile.

  I couldn’t start the work immediately, I was committed to finishing a couple of other jobs I already had lined up, but they should be completed by the Friday. I did have some other people who were waiting, but I organised a couple of blokes I used on occasion to start them for me. All in all, it would all work out as planned. By Friday night, I would be all hers.

  Sleep was a weird bugger. It was elusive, yet when I did catch the proverbial forty winks, my dreams were vivid. I would like to be able to say they were full of me and Emily having a wonderful time—maybe walking Charlie or seated in a restaurant chatting and laughing. But no. They were the horrible kind, the ones that make you wake up in a sweat and thank God they weren’t real just before you questioned if they were actually dreams. Images from years past filtered into my mind—the look of hatred from my mother, the disappointment from my father, leaving my home and hearing their scornful yells following me. Not good. I can still remember the look Toby gave me as we bundled ourselves into my car and drove away. It was gently questioning. The same look he had given me at the vet’s.

  Enough. I couldn’t take the dreams anymore. All I wanted was to put that chapter of my life behind me and move on. So, I got up, dressed, and went to work earlier than usual.

  Luckily, the work I was finishing off was for two new homes that had just been built, so I wasn’t disturbing anyone. I spent the morning planting Hebe, primarily H. Andersonii, H. Ellie, and H. Mauve Queen. Ellie and Andersonii—I couldn’t help it if they named the plants after me, could I? But I had to admit, I was definitely NOT the Queen of Mauve.

  Before I knew it, it was noon, time to go and pick up Emily. If we went together, we could be sure we would arrive at the kennels at the same time. It wasn’t that we had trust issues, though maybe we were each still a little wary of the other. I had learned my lesson the day before; there was no way I wanted to see Emily cry again.

  The feeling of excitement started long before I pulled into her road. It was a pleasant fluttering in my stomach. Initially I put it down to going to see Charlie, but I would have been lying if I’d said that was the only reason. When I spotted Emily waiting for me at the end of her driveway, the sensation jumped from my stomach and into my throat. It made me feel like jumping up and down with joy.

  When Emily caught my eye, she gave me that gorgeous grin. God, she was beautiful—the wind making her hair dance, those alluring brown eyes, that smile… Jesus. I didn’t know if my poor heart could take it.

  “Hey, you. You’re early.”

  “And yet you’re waiting.”

  She thought about it a moment, and then her laughter floated in the air like music. “True.”

  Soon she was seated next to me, and I slapped the pickup into gear and began our drive to see the main man.

  Sharon greeted us both, her face saying everything her mouth didn’t. I don’t think she expected to see Emily and me at the same time, considering we were both wanting to adopt the same dog. Charlie was waiting for us, his lead hanging from his mouth and a manic tail wagging in greeting. We decided to walk him in the woods, as the weather was dry and we wouldn’t end up looking like beasts from the swamp by the time we got back. It was weird. We both wanted to hold his lead, but we each kept trying to pass it over to the other. Finally we stopped arsing about and decided to take turns. How civilised we were becoming.

  It seemed like Charlie knew he was the focus and loved every minute of it. As I clicked his lead to his collar, I noticed the irregular growth of the hairs on his neck. I pushed the fur aside and could see the scars w
here his wound had healed. Amazingly, he let me do it, let me examine the evidence of the cruelty he had been subjected to.

  “Poor baby. I wish I knew who had done this to him.”

  Emily didn’t answer. Thinking she hadn’t heard me, I turned to repeat it. Her face was contorted with anger, and she just shook her head and looked away. I knew she needed to walk him so she could lavish love on him, bathe him in the goodness that can come far more easily than hatred.

  “Here. You take him first,” I said.

  The weather was nippy, but the walk was wonderful all the same. Charlie was interested in everything—every tree, each blade of grass, and a squirrel. I have to admit, I felt sorry for the squirrel at one point. The sound of Charlie whining and yelping must’ve frightened the crap out of it. And me, too, as he always waited until I was submerged in my own world of thought before he kicked off.

  Twenty-five minutes into the walk, Emily held the lead out to me. “Your turn.”

  The smile she bestowed on me was blinding, and I felt like a teenager. Reaching for the lead, I once again felt the spark race from her to me. Why was this happening? Was there something wrong with me? Had my time with power tools made me electric? Or her, for that matter. She did use power tools more than I did, after all.

  “Did you feel that?” Her voice was almost a whisper, almost reverent. “Every time you touch my hand, it’s as if a spark shoots through me.”

  A blush rose along my neck. I couldn’t understand why I was embarrassed. It wasn’t as if I had anything to do with the fact that we interacted with one another like eels just about to fight.

  “Erm.” Nice save, Anderson. Three letter word. Good job I wasn’t playing Scrabble. “Yes.” Come on! More! “I did feel it.” Fantastic. Bravo. And the award for the most inspiring speech goes to…

  And that was it. I grinned inanely, showing my teeth like a village idiot, and walked away in the way people do when they are pretending they are being pulled by their dog.

  Back at the centre, I unclipped Charlie’s lead and let him run around the yard for a while before taking him back to his kennel. I felt badly about leaving him there, but he seemed happy enough to climb into his basket and chew on his Woofer. Honestly. That’s what they’re called. And if you want to know what’s in them—think of a bull’s— Nah… I can’t say it. Every time I think of it, my stomach roils and I feel the need to brush my teeth, use mouthwash, shower, and then do it all again. We promised Charlie that we would return the next day, and then we left.

  The drive back to Emily’s was quiet, as we were each in our own little world. It wasn’t uncomfortable, far from it. It was as if we had done this a thousand times and were used to the contented silence.

  As I pulled up outside her house, I wanted to say something magnificent, something profound and lasting. “See you tomorrow. Same time.” Wow. I outdid myself on that one. I guessed she wouldn’t sleep a wink that night, trying to work out the message hidden behind my carefully chosen words.

  The afternoon stint at work lasted longer than I’d anticipated, and considering I’d been up and about earlier than the crack of Hades, I was well and truly spent. I got home at gone seven and was knackered.

  My answer phone was blinking rapidly, as if it had something in its eye. Lame, but hey… I was tired, okay? Three messages. Not bad. Only three. The first was from my sister, asking if it was really me she’d seen pulling out of the Dogs Trust car park with the gorgeous, dark haired property developer.

  Crap.

  The second message was from the gorgeous property developer herself, asking if we could go to see Charlie earlier the next day, as she had to pick up supplies from the DIY centre.

  Sure. No problem.

  Third message was my sister again, squealing, “It was you. I knew it. Will you be seeing her again?”

  What the fuck? How did she know?

  Abbie answered my call on the second ring. She was out of breath, which was surprising, considering she always had her mobile on some part of her anatomy.

  Her usual hello was replaced by a torrent of questions, all fired at bullet speed, and all of them concerning my appearance at the Dogs Trust with Emily. I cocked my head to the side, pulled the phone away from my ear, and let her ramble.

  When I heard the receiver go quiet, I put it back to my ear. “Hey, sis. How’re you?’”

  “Cut it and spill.”

  “Is that a medical procedure?” I waited for a smart retort that didn’t come. “Cut what exactly?”

  Abbie went quiet for a millisecond and then spoke with exaggerated slowness, as if she had suddenly become convinced that I was, in fact, as stupid as she thought I was. “So—are—you—seeing—Emily—as—a—poten-tial girlfriend?”

  I tutted, as if I had suddenly become convinced idiocy ran in the family. “Why is that when you see me with a woman, you automatically assume I want to cop off with her?”

  “No I don’t. Because you are never with a woman. That’s the problem.”

  “We both want to adopt Charlie—you know, the Border.” Sparkling brown eyes danced in front of my face, and I realised they weren’t Charlie’s but Emily’s as I dropped her off. I coughed and straightened up. “So, we decided to both visit him at the same time and see who he prefers.”

  “R-iiig-hhht.”

  That was the word she always used that way when she didn’t believe a word I was saying. I wasn’t about to defend myself; I had nothing to defend. I was telling the truth as I knew it.

  “And it wouldn’t hurt for you to get better acquainted with Ms Carson in the process, would it?”

  I heard a snigger and knew my brother-in-law was listening to our conversation. I could imagine Abbie pulling faces and mouthing words at him.

  “The relationship between Emily and me is purely business.” Even as I said it, I didn’t believe it myself. No wonder Abbie started laughing. “I haven’t got time for this, Abs. You promised you wouldn’t stir the shit. Bye.”

  I heard her mutter “But she—” before I clicked “end call.”

  “But she” what? God! Sometimes my sister did my head in. Actually, more often than not, I did my own head in. Why did I care what Emily thought or said? The only thing between us was Charlie, and to me, he was the most important thing of all.

  Thirty minutes later, I was showered and heating up soup, as I couldn’t be arsed cooking anything proper to eat. I wanted to get to bed and try and catch up on missed sleep. It wasn’t until I was halfway through my evening “meal” that I remembered I hadn’t called Emily back. Part of me was excited about hearing her voice again, but the more sensible and impossible side decided to text her instead. Until I remembered my buggered up mobile phone. I’d been so busy trying to undercut Emily on seeing Charlie, I’d forgotten to get a new phone. I would’ve tried to fix the old one, but thinking about putting my phone next to my face after it had swum about in the bog at the nightclub… Nah. It had to be a new one or risk an SDI to the face.

  It took me an hour to pluck up the courage to call her back. Stupid, I know. It was only a “That’s fine. I’ll pick you up at eleven.” So why was I being all Joan Crawford? I really missed my trusty piss-soaked mobile phone. I can’t tell you how many times I picked up her business card and put it back on the table, how many times I pressed all but one of the digits and then cut it off.

  “Come on, you chicken shit. Call her.”

  I was pissing myself off now. A phone call. One. I wasn’t calling the Prime Minister on Question Time on a live show; it was just Emily.

  “Right. That is it, Anderson.” Grabbing the phone I gritted my teeth. My hand slapped the business card on the table, and I dragged it over to me as if I was nabbing a criminal who was trying to escape. I don’t know why I muttered, “You’re my bitch, now.” Maybe because I had seen
too many action films.

  Before I could press even one number, the phone rang in my hand. Staring stupidly at the thin black handset, I momentarily forgot what to do with it. It was as if my brain had farted and deleted my memory of how to press the green button for a nanosecond.

  “Erm…hello?” Not the telesales voice I had wanted, but at least I had been able to function—eventually.

  “Erm…hello. Ellie?”

  Shit. Shit. Crap and shit.

  “This is Emily Carson here.”

  I know. I know. Fuck, I know.

  “I just wondered if you got my message.”

  “Erm.” Was I really a retard? “Message?” Yes. I was. “Oh, your message. About tomorrow. Erm…yes. Yes. Erm…yes, that’s fine.” I think the yeses made it clear that the new time was okay. “Eleven, yes?”

  I heard her release a breath and wondered whether she had been as nervous as I’d been. Nah. She was the gorgeous Emily Carson. She didn’t do nervous.

  “Great. I’ll see you then.” She paused. “And Ellie…”

  “Yes?” Another yes. Was I sycophantic?

  “Thanks for today. I had a great time with…with Charlie.”

  She was gone even before I had the chance to respond. Was it me, or had she paused before she said “Charlie”? Was she going to say something else, like she had a great time with me? Nah. No way. How could she have had a great time with me? I was just…me—not very special, not very special at all.

  Being on the phone with Emily had been terrifying yet wonderful, almost like when you fancy someone but are too scared to say anything to them, but just love being the focus of their attention, even for a little while.

  The “not very special” thing would not let go, and once again, I had a very disturbed night’s sleep. At this rate, I would have circles under my eyes to rival those of Chi Chi the panda. No wonder pandas were on the verge of extinction if my face was any indication.