by Allie Larkin
“Thank you,” I said. My voice was tangled up in sobs. I was so embarrassed to be losing it in front of him. I just couldn’t keep it together. I felt like everything in my life was balanced on the fine, fragile point of a pencil and it was way too easy to tip the wrong way when anything went wrong. I’d felt like this since my mom died and I was starting to wonder if it would ever go away. “Thank you. I just-”
“It’s okay.” Dr. Brandt kept one hand on my shoulder and reached over to the counter to get me a tissue.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I have a lot-a lot of- ” I couldn’t think of the word for it.
Dr. Brandt watched me patiently, waiting for me to finish what I was going to say. When I still couldn’t find the right word, I started sobbing harder.
“It’s okay. This happens. You were worried, and now you’re relieved and- ” He gave my shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. His hand was big and solid. Maybe from doing so many surgeries.
“I am relieved.” I focused on his face. Dr. Brandt had beautiful eyes. “It’s just that-” I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down, but I burst into tears all over again. “I’m not going to give him up! I’m not.”
Dr. Brandt wrapped his arms around me. “It’s okay,” he said, softly. “It’ll be okay.” He didn’t seem to mind that I was covered with dog puke. I meant to pull away, but I needed it. I sank into him. His arms were strong and he was so warm. Joe jumped off the table and leaned into the backs of my legs.
I got the feeling Dr. Brandt was going to hug me as long as I cried. I felt silly standing there, letting Joe’s vet hug me, but I liked the way I could feel his collarbone against my cheek, and I liked the way he smelled like pine needles and shampoo. His shirt was so soft.
Finally, he said, “Why would you have to give him up?” I pulled away and told him everything: Mr. Wright and Mr. Buggles, the garden gnomes, and the bright orange envelope.
“The thing is,” I said, realizing I was ranting and not sure I could stop it, “he may be over thirty-five pounds, but he’s not a yippy little shit.”
Dr. Brandt’s eyes sparkled. He pressed his lips together, the corners of his mouth turned up.
“Well, if you’re not going to give him up, I guess you’ll have to move,” he said.
“Easier said than done,” I said. “Can you even buy a house in thirty days?”
“Stranger things have happened,” Dr. Brandt said, pulling himself up to sit on the counter Joe had just been on. “But I’m sure you can work something out. Maybe if you have a plan to move, they’ll let you keep Joe in the condo a little longer. It would be unreasonable of them not to.”
“Mr. Wright,” I said, “is nothing if not unreasonable.”
“But what is he really going to do if you don’t have the dog out in thirty days? It’s not like he can kick you out when you’re already planning to leave, right?”
“Can he call animal control?” I had visions of Mr. Wright directing uniformed men with tranquilizer guns and big nets to come and capture Joe.
“Possible. Not likely, but possible. Tell you what,” Dr. Brandt said. “If it takes more than thirty days, and you can’t get an extension, you can leave Joe with me.”
“Really? You’d do that?” I was starting to get drowsy. I yawned without covering my mouth.
Dr. Brandt didn’t seem to notice. “Sure. Joe’s a great dog.” He tucked his hair behind his ear and it fell back in his face immediately. He had a laid-back, rugged thing going on, the shaggy hair, the faded clothes. I could imagine Diane having a field day with his scruffiness, but, really, it worked on him. He looked like he belonged in an ad for some super manly aftershave, maybe roping a steer or staring into a campfire.
“What do you do with your hair when you’re in surgery?” I blurted out.
Dr. Brandt smiled and reached into the pocket of his lab coat. He pulled out a bright green terry cloth headband.
“No! Really?”
He nodded.
“Put it on!” I said, and he pulled it over his head and back up on his forehead.
“And then my scrub hat.” He opened his arms posed with his palms out. “It’s a nice picture, no?”
He had a good smile. It was big and toothy. One of his front teeth was slightly longer than the other. I thought about what it would be like to run my tongue along their edges to feel the difference. I blushed wildly.
I covered my mouth with my hand and faked a yawn, hoping the color in my cheeks would drain.
“You know,” Dr. Brandt said, “I put a pot of coffee on before you got here. Come on.” He jumped down from the table and gestured for me to follow him. Joe ran and pushed ahead of him. Dr. Brandt took us back to a small room with a coffeemaker and microwave on a counter next to a sink, and a sagging card table with two chairs in the corner. There was a refrigerator against the wall. It was avocado-colored and had a sign up that said FOR HUMAN FOOD ONLY.
“Milk and sugar?” Dr. Brandt asked, opening the fridge. He pulled out a carton of half-and-half and smelled it.
“Sure,” I said.
He poured some half-and-half into two mugs and then followed with coffee.
“One packet or two?” he asked, holding up a packet of sugar.
“None, actually,” I said, feeling silly that I’d agreed to sugar. “Just milk is fine.”
He stirred my coffee for me with a spoon that had been sitting on a paper towel to blot. I tried not to think about how long the spoon had been there or who else had used it for what purpose.
He handed me the mug and then dumped three sugars into his coffee, opening the packets all together in one swipe.
“Thanks for the coffee, Dr. Brandt,” I said, taking a sip. “And thanks again for seeing us so late. I know I worry too- ”
“It’s Alex,” he said, giving me a sheepish smile, “Ms. Leone.”
“Van,” I said, automatically offering my hand to shake his.
He laughed and took my hand. He held it instead of shaking it.
“Nice to meet you, Van,” he said.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Joe sniffing at the bottom of the fridge and before I realized what was happening, he had lifted his leg and peed on the corner of it.
“Phooey! Joe! Phooey!” I yelled, pulling my hand out of Alex’s grasp and running over to shoo Joe away from the fridge. In the process, I spilled my coffee.
“Paper towels?” I asked, kneeling down by the puddle.
Alex pulled a wad of them from the holder over the sink. I put my hand out to take them.
“No, it’s fine. I can do it.” He didn’t seem the least bit annoyed.
“I don’t know what got into him,” I said.
Joe flopped down on the floor and put his head in his paws.
“It’s not his fault,” Alex said, kneeling down next to me. “Mindy had her Jack Russell in the other day. Now, he’s a yippy little shit. He marks everything.” Alex rolled his eyes. “Joe was just following suit. Male dogs mark their territory. It’s just what they do.”
I thought about Peter’s tearstains on my bridesmaid’s dress.
Alex finished cleaning up the mess and slam-dunked the paper towels into the garbage can with a little hop. He lathered his hands up vigorously under the faucet, and dried them thoroughly, like he was about to walk into surgery.
“Let’s get you a refill,” he said, taking my cup from me.
He dumped what was left in the cup and poured me a new one with the same amount of cream as before. No sugar.
“Thanks,” I said.
He pulled out a chair for me at the table.
“Have a seat,” he said. “If you have the time. I don’t want to keep you or anything.”
“Sure,” I said, staring into my coffee cup. “I mean, it’s not like I had plans.” I looked up and smiled at him.
“Do you play cards?” Alex asked, leaning back in his chair to grab a pack off the counter.
“Poker and Go Fish.”
�
��Interesting.” He plunked the cards down on the table. “Well, I don’t have any chips here. We could play for kibble, but it smells pretty bad. Go Fish?”
“Sounds good,” I said. I liked the way he looked right in my eyes when I said something, like every word I said was important to him.
We played three rounds, but the third round fell apart into giggles when Joe started snoring loudly under the table.
“He sounds like an old man,” Alex said, snorting a little when he laughed. He didn’t even cover his mouth or try to hide the fact that he snorted. He seemed so comfortable in his skin.
“That’s quiet for him. You should hear him when we’re sleeping. He wakes me up out of a dead sleep with that. Or when he’s not snoring, he’s pawing me in the back. Of course, it’s still better than sleeping alone.” As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I felt like I’d shared too much-a detail almost as personal as the fact that I danced around in my underwear singing “More Than a Feeling” at the top of my lungs every morning.
“I had a beagle when I was a kid,” he said. “He did that every time he fell asleep.” Alex put his cards down on the table. “The second he fell asleep, his legs would start moving”-he dropped his hands limp on his wrists and waved his arms around- “and he’d make these funny noises.” Alex whimpered.
He was completely unaware of how ridiculous he looked, flailing around like that. I was embarrassed for him, but it made me feel less embarrassed for myself.
“My grandfather always said he was chasing rabbits,” Alex said, giving me a big goofy smile.
“Oh,” he said, looking at his watch. “I completely lost track of time. Can you stick around for about a half an hour and help me out with rounds?”
“Sure,” I said. “But I don’t really know what I’m doing or anything.”
“You don’t have to,” Alex said, running around the table to pull my chair out of the way for me as I stood up.
When I turned around, I was face-to- face with him, close enough to feel the heat of his body. I could almost feel the fuzz of his flannel shirt against my cheek.
We visited a cat who’d had stitches after a brawl with a raccoon, a Doberman recovering from being neutered, and a baby squirrel who’d lost her mother. Alex talked to all of them-things like “Hey kiddo, sorry about your balls,” and “Aw, baby, you gotta stay away from those raccoons.”
The Golden Retriever was groggy. Alex had amputated her front left leg because it was totally crushed by the accident. She was lying on her side and there was a big white bandage wrapped around where her leg used to be. Joe sat in the doorway where we told him to, while Alex took her vital signs.
“Okay, I’m going to give her another shot here. Do me a favor and rub her head. Give her the best head rub she’s ever had.”
I scratched her head, and she looked up at me. Her eyes were watery. When Alex gave her the shot, she closed her eyes and whimpered a little, but didn’t move.
“You’re a natural,” he said. “That was great. Thank you.” He touched my hand.
“How is she?” I asked. “Is she going to be okay?” I wanted to give him a sign, but touching his hand back seemed too obvious.
“Yeah, she looks good,” Alex said, pulling his hand away and patting the dog on her side. “They adapt so well. She’ll be up and running in a week or two.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, you’d be surprised. Cut off a person’s leg, and they’re never quite the same, but this dog here-she won’t even miss it.”
He lifted the Golden off the table and rested her gently in a crate lined with worn pink towels.
“Wow. That’s incredible.”
“It really is. That’s what I love about working with them. Dogs never feel sorry for themselves. They just keep plodding along.”
We walked back to the doorway and Joe followed us down the hall. “Thanks for staying with me,” Alex said. He stopped and leaned against the wall. I leaned my back against the wall next to him. Joe came and sat next to me.
“Thanks for seeing us,” I said. “I- I was so worried about him and- ”
“Anytime, Van,” he said, smiling. He leaned toward me and the space between us got smaller. “Do you think I could call you?” He pulled his knee up and rested his foot against the wall. “About Joe, and maybe not about Joe?”
“Yeah,” I said, leaning toward him until our arms were just touching. “I think you could.”
He nudged his arm against mine. It was gentle, but I almost lost my balance.
I was so tired. I closed my eyes for a second and thought about leaning into his arms and letting him hold me. I slid a little closer, so my shoulder was touching his.
I felt so comfortable. It was so easy to be with him. I closed my eyes. “Are you sleeping?” he asked.
“No.” I opened my eyes and looked at him. “Just resting my eyes.”
“I’ve kept you here pretty late.” Alex looked around me at his watch.
“I stayed on my own accord.”
“It’s two.”
“Wow. I should go,” I said, although I couldn’t think of any reason why.
“Let me walk you to your car.”
I pulled away from him and Joe followed us out. I used the remote to click the car open. Alex opened the back door and Joe jumped up on the seat.
“I’ll call you later,” he said, closing the door.
“You need my number.”
“It’s in Joe’s file.”
“Then you have my number.” I reached for the door handle, but I didn’t open my door.
“Well,” he said.
“Well.”
He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “Drive safely,” he whispered.
I got in the car and he closed the door for me.
He walked backward away from the car and waved as we drove off.
I could still feel the pressure of his lips on my cheek. I concentrated on keeping that buzzing feeling in my face the whole way home.
Joe and I climbed into bed. I turned away from him once he started snoring and let my mind wander to Alex’s uneven front teeth until I fell asleep.
Chapter Fifteen
I was just settling in to work, drinking coffee and reviewing the outline I’d made for the new grant I was working on when the phone rang. I ran for the living room to pick it up. Joe got excited and tried to push in front of me on the stairs, and I slipped and fell hard on my butt. I bounced up quickly and made it to the phone just before it went to voice mail.
“Hello?” I yelled into the phone, breathless.
“Van? It’s Alex . . . Brandt.”
“Hi, Alex Brandt.”
He didn’t say anything immediately, and I felt like I needed to fill the space. “Joe is feeling much better,” I said.
“How are you doing?” Alex said.
“Well, I’m plotting a homeowners’ association mutiny, so, you know, that’s keeping me busy.”
He laughed and I flopped down on the couch and pulled my knees up to my chest. Joe jumped up next to me and tried to lick the phone.
“Need any help?” Alex said.
“Well, I’ve never plotted a mutiny before, so I’ll take all the help I can get. And, I think I need an eye patch, so there’s that.”
“Hook hand?”
“That might be going a little far,” I said.
“Hey,” Alex said, “if you can take a break from all the plotting, I was thinking we could take Joe for a walk at the park. I could help you work with him on walking on a leash. You game?”
“Yeah, I’m game.”
“I have the afternoon off. I could come get you around one, if that works for you.”
“Sounds good!” I gave Alex directions to the condo.
“Well, Van, I’ll see you then.”
I loved the way he said my name. There was a smile in it. “Bye, Alex.” I smiled back.
I hung up the phone and looked around the living room. It was disgusting. Aside fro
m dog proofing, I hadn’t really cleaned since way before the wedding. Joe’s fur gathered together like tumbleweeds across the floor and in corners. I picked them up by the handful instead of vacuuming. I shook out the couch cushions and kicked a pair of flip-flops under the couch.
Cleaning one thing made everything else look dirtier and once I got going, it was hard to stop. I stashed dirty dishes in the oven, and ran upstairs with armloads of clothes from the living room to shove under the bed and in the closet.
Joe followed close, sniffing everything I touched. Were I not in a hurry, it would have been adorable, but I got tired of having to wipe wet nose marks off every surface. “Joe! Stop it!” I yelled, waving my fist at him. He seemed to think I might have a treat waiting in my tightly closed hand because he jumped up, put his paws on my shoulders, and tackled me to the floor, trying to shove his nose into my fist. When he discovered that my hand was empty, he kept me pinned to the floor so he could give my face a good lick.
When he was done, I ran upstairs to fix my makeup, and I realized, while I was wiping smeared mascara from under my eyes, that the bathroom was disgusting. I grabbed a wad of toilet paper, ran it under the faucet, and used it to wipe up the toothpaste splatters on the mirror. Joe found a sock behind the bathroom door and collapsed on the floor with it in his mouth like he was settling down to give it a good chew. I gave him a stern look. He dropped it and rested his head on top of it, looking up at me. I took it away from him and shoved it in the cabinet under the bathroom sink. I finished wiping out the sink. It wasn’t clean, but at least it didn’t look dirty. I washed my face to start over with my makeup.
Alex rang the doorbell at twelve fifty-three. Joe started barking. He ran down the stairs and back up. I had mascara on my right eyelashes, but not on the left, so I made Alex wait. He gave me a full minute before he rang the doorbell again.
Running down the stairs, I realized that my socks didn’t match. One was black and one was blue. Alex didn’t seem like the type to think less of me for it, so I left my mismatched socks just the way they were.