Destructive Release

by L. U. Ann

  Devon and I walk each holding a hand of one happy little boy down the brick sidewalk of Historic Annapolis. The cool breeze is refreshing from the vibrant March sun. Skies are blue and we are on our own little cloud nine floating somewhere. Freshly planted flowers in every color imaginable line store fronts along with benches. It is a beautiful spring day. Nothing can take this day away from us. I look down at Evan, and he is unaware of anything bad that this cruel world is capable of throwing at him. I hope he doesn’t experience anything close to what we’ve been through.

  It is still early, so there aren’t many people walking by. A few tourists enjoy the peaceful sights. The awning displaying Annapolis Ice Cream Company comes into view and Evan grows antsy. A cute little shop we always visit when we come down here. Devon grabs the door when he is bombarded with one happy Becca, Lane, and Grandma Pain each holding balloons. I almost want to roll my eyes wondering whose idea this was, but the moment is full of too much happiness to do so. Becca is over zealous in nature. I would not put it past her. Lane is head over heels in love with Evan, so certainly would not think twice if she did this. Then there is Grandma Pain, who relishes in Evan having a proper daddy. All three look guilty and I just laugh.

  “Awnt Becca, Lane, Gee Pee,” he turns and points, “Daddy!” Evan shouts in all seriousness wanting his ice cream. Devon’s parents take him up to the glass window displaying the multiple flavors, or colors as Evan says.

  I cry at how happy I am at this moment. Ryan stands to shake Devon’s hand with Blake following holding onto a sleepy Alex, telling him congratulations. Alex is such a sweetheart at three and a half months old. He already has women dropping at his feet. After placing a number of kisses on his cute chubby face and perhaps waking him up, I work my way through giving hugs and thanking them for helping us celebrate. Mr. Walker stands and I throw my arms around him. Today would never have been possible if he hadn’t brought Devon back to us.

  Chatter ensues between delicious licks of numerous flavors. I sit watching, wishing my mom could be here but knowing wherever she is, she is witnessing this beautiful moment. And with a hand on my belly, I finish my cone thanking God for this life.

  Eleven and a Half

  “Mommy?”

  “Yes, sweetheart?”

  “What does my name mean?

  “Oh, your name is very special. Did you know your initials spell my middle name?”

  “Really?” I ask as my eyes grow with my tilt of my lips.

  “Yes, Lacey, and not only that, but my middle name is Lane. So your sister and you both have the name.”

  I scrunch my nose, not understanding what Mommy is saying. “Think about it, sweetie. Take the first letter of each of your names: L for Lacey, A for Ann, N for Nicole and E for Edwards. It spells L-A-N-E.”

  “Wow, that’s cool! So, Lane spells hers L-A-N-E? And your middle name is spelled L-A-N-E?”

  “It sure is. I did that because you girls are very special to me and I always wanted us to be connected not just by blood.”

  “Oh, Mommy. When I grow up and have a little girl, I’m going to name her Lane, too!” Mommy smiles and kisses my forehead.

  “That would be wonderful, sweetie. I love you so much.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “Your best teacher is your last mistake.”

  ~Author Unknown

  “Yo, ho, Lacey...” Devon sings waving a hand in front of my face startling me.

  “Oh, what were we talking about?” I question wrapping the sweater tighter to cut the chill sweeping through me. Thoughts of yesterday and Evan legally being Devon’s son swarm my thoughts. Moments like this make me miss Mom more. She would have been jumping for joy just like Mrs. Holmes.

  “That thing. You know the thing we are not getting right now,” he replies, but knows something is amiss. “Where did you go?” he asks.

  “Nowhere, really. Just thinking about yesterday at the courthouse and how happy I am.” I lean into his chest with his arms pulling me tighter. “You know we should get it before the baby comes. I’m going to need time to train it.” I fuss. “Now is the time to get one. Not after the baby arrives and my hands will be full.” I look up and put on my best pouty face. Unfortunately, I find that it’s unsuccessful when rolled eyes are returned my way.

  “Oh, come on, you know you want to get one now. We have been talking about it for a few months. They are so cute and Evan will just be in heaven!” I play the Evan card smiling away, proud I thought of its power. Hook, line, and sinker... I wait for his answer.

  “Fine, but we’re not getting some small little pussy dog.” Yes! I clap my hands excited about the possibility. “Whoa, whoa, wait before you get all excited—you need to know it needs to be big and real.”

  “Small dogs are real!” I argue horrified to learn his perception of cute little dogs.

  “Pfft. No, they are not. A little dog is for pussies. We need a manly dog.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” I roll my eyes. “On one condition—we aren’t going to a breeder. We need to save one. If you insist on getting a ‘manly dog,’” I air quote, “then I insist we rescue one.” I cross my arms and allow them to rest on my oversized stomach.

  He looks over his shoulder with panic. “I don’t think we should take Evan with us. He’ll have us adopting all of them,” he finishes pointing his thumb in the direction of Evan’s room.

  “Devon!” I chastise narrowing my eyes.

  “What?” he institutes innocently. As if!

  “Don’t what me! You know we can’t leave him out,” I lure while an enthralled Evan walks into the room.

  “Hey, buddy! What are you doing?” Devon asks, playfulness replaced with eyes full of pride.

  “Choo-choo, Daddeee,” Evan ventures toward the train table Devon’s parents purchased him for Christmas. Oh, dear, they love to spoil him. The word ‘no’ does not exist when they are around Evan. His attention transfixed on the chugging locomotive beneath his fingers pulling cars along the railroad tracks.

  “Evan, how would you like to look at dogs tomorrow?” Surprisingly, Devon asks. Glad I do not need to drag and pull Devon into following through with this idea. Evan pulls his attention away from the trains to look at Devon and shrugs. Devon’s head whips back to me stunned. I cannot say anything because he surprised me, too.

  Unaware of how ridiculous I look, I mouth and point with exaggerated arms and head movements. “Do you think he heard you?” Devon’s eyes widen as he turns to look to see if Evan is watching us. Turning back, he shrugs with his lips pointed down.

  “We could take a peek online and see what they have if you want.” I walk over to the kitchen counter, grab the laptop, and walk back into the family room to snuggle next to Devon.

  Placing an arm around me, he moves my head to whisper, “I think you owe me for this.” I smile and shake my head knowing exactly what he means when he says ‘you owe me.’

  “We can settle payment later, Mister.” Unsuccessfully, I try to push him off, but he only pulls me closer into his chest.

  “Oh, you bet we will,” he breathes into my ear.” Oh my God! The suggestive nature of his voice awakens an ache. Is it bedtime, I am so ready to cave and show him how appreciative I truly am.

  Scrolling through the pages set upon us of dogs with no permanent home makes me sad. Thoughts of personally saving each and every one flood my mind. “I like this one,” I point to a brown and black-haired, brown-eyed Lab mix.

  “Hmm... I kind of like this one,” Devon points to a black and white Lab mix. Making a decision online is by no means the right way to choose a forever pet. We made plans to visit the animal shelter in the morning. Paperwork can begin if we find our perfect dog.

  The reflection of the sun partially blinds me a moment before Devon opens the glass door allowing me to walk into the shelter holding onto Evan’s hand. Bleach and cleaning solution attack my olfactory senses, abstemiously burning them in its wake. Good thoughts of a clean place make me s
mile. At least I hope it is clean.

  Signed in, we follow the directions given to the dog kennels. My eyes connect with the first wagging tail and my heart already loves him or... wait, I mean her. Lucie is her name, a cute little dachshund. “Lacey, I already told you we’re getting a manly dog.” Devon’s eyes roll and I smack Devon’s chest and then walks off with a bruised ego. Defiant to his request, I squat, wiggle my fingers through the chain links, and allow her to sniff my fingers.

  “Oh, honey, look how cute she is,” I say scratching under her chin.

  “Mommeee see, Mommeee!” Evan shouts in absolute aw.

  “I’m coming, Sweet Pea.” Standing, my hip pops with the excess weight of pregnancy getting the best of me. A moment to catch my breath, I take a step back finding Evan is at the other end of the long hallway of dogs. Passing the poor souls I at least have the heart to call them by their names and offer a little love. First up is Gertie a terrier mix, then Harlem a mixture of some mutt. His wirehair sticks out in every direction reminding me of something singed. As I pass the kennels, the faceless dogs become real. Fighting the emotions, I glide my fingers across the cool metal to Rex a seven-month-old male golden retriever joyfully wagging his tail and panting with happy eyes. He just wants a little attention. Oh, my heart swells at the poor souls discarded like Lane and I in regards to our father. Continuing, the name reads Bentley, a year and a half black and brown lab mix. With fingers clean thanks to the dog, I realize there are many labs here. Circling myself, vitality of the kennels full to the max, I gather thoughts of how easily disposed animals have become. Blood pumps quickly through my veins and pounds heavy in my ears. I bet this is exactly how my aunt portrays her brother in prison. He hurt me, but she’ll never see that. I have so much more compassion for the animals locked behind these bars than those in jail.

  Vision blurry, I move on to the next cage. Thankfully, Evan is consumed with whatever he is looking at because my conscious needs this time. Fuzzy, a miniature schnauzer greets me with a bark. It is apparent he is scared from his shaking, yet he proceeds to sniff my fingers. Moves from my fingers startle the helpless creature causing him to jump back, but quickly returns for another sniff and possible scratch under his chin. A situation clearly stressful for the pooch, I move on to give him peace.

  A hand on my belly has me thankful for everything in my life and what we are going to be blessed with next. The long line each holding a precious life is beginning to overwhelm my heart. Names of Moose a tan Kangal, Beans a Dalmatian, Snub a white poodle, Squeaker a little Chihuahua, Penny a gorgeous brindle pit bull, continuing I find Pit Bull after Pit Bull filled kennels. A breed time warp foreshadows this happy moment. Sadness that some of these will be euthanized. Sad that I can’t save them all. Startled by Devon wiping an escaped tear, my eyes turn to him. Reality dawns knowing this is too much for me to absorb right now. The hormones do not help in the least.

  The dogs are on display as if shoppers are picking out which head of lettuce to purchase. Signs at the top of the cage similar to produce labels state how long the dog has been living here without a home. Displaced, they no longer cuddle at their owner’s feet—if they were ever fortunate to do in the first place.

  Vision tunneled, staff is floating around as they do the chores necessary to keep the shelter in order. The haze of how some of these dogs were at the hands of an abuser. Someone like Caine. The only difference is that I could leave. Dogs are not always given that opportunity. If they escape and roam the streets, they are a nuisance. Was I a nuisance? Does society frown upon victims who need counseling?

  Devon’s hand cradles my head as he kisses the side of my head. Distraught, he reaches for my hand closing the gap where he and Evan have been standing. “Mommy, look!” I allow Devon to take me away from my inner scrutiny.

  “Oh, wow,” I try to sound excited. Chicky, a six month old female lab/shepherd mix, brought in ten days ago reads the sign. “She’s beautiful, Evan.”

  “Uh-huh,” he concurs as little fingers grasp the metal links a curious little nose sniffs and gives a good lick. Evan jumps erupting in giggles. Devon and I follow suit.

  “Well, personally, I like this one,” Devon retorts pointing to the cage next to the one that Evan can’t keep his eyes off. Evan moves to see if this one can possibly meet his standards like the other. Sadie, a six month old female lab mix brought in ten days ago as well the sign says.

  “She’s pretty. Evan, her name is Sadie. Can you say hi to her?” I gush as she eagerly sniffs Evan’s fingers adding lots of licks, too. Then it dawns on me. “Isn’t this one of the dogs we saw on the website, Devon?”

  “Oh, yeah, you’re right. Let’s see if we can take her out and observe how she interacts with Evan. Okay, Buddy?” Evan stomps his foot, shakes his head no, and points at the dog that has him infatuated.

  Raised brow, I watch Devon. “For the record, I think Chicky is beautiful.”

  “Fine, we can see both to choose.”

  “Evan, Daddy said we can take a look at Chicky. What do you think about her? I love her pretty brown and black fur.” I study the dog taking in her wagging tail with Evan, but her alert eyes draw me in as she keeps tabs on everything. A fantastic guard dog is standing before me.

  “Come on, Evan, let’s follow Daddy.” Falling into step, “I think you’re a closet ailurophile,” I snicker.

  “A what?” he stops and I crash into him thinking of the word Becca called that. Oh, that’s right.

  “You know Becca would tell you not to be a wallblocker.” Every effort to hide my amusement is failed.

  I cross my legs seeking relief from the look of playful lust permeating me within. No thoughts of dogs swim my mind—only hurrying up to sneak alone time with the gorgeous man in front of me.

  “What did you say, a closet... what?” he playfully lures.

  “Uh, um. Ailurophile?” I sheepishly grin.

  “That’s what I thought. Darling,” his thumb caresses my cheek, “I am not a cat-lover unless you want to start naming something.” Raised eyebrows stun me silent. The stare, prominent and full of passion, push me against the cool concrete wall. The stark contrast in temperature is exhilarating. What just happened? Cheeks flush as I snake around his body to shake off the naughty visions interrupting my conscious. Now is not the time. Glancing at my watch, I realize it won’t be anytime soon, either.

  The reception area bustles about with people chatting amongst themselves. A sign hidden from my sight displays a rabies vaccination clinic today. This is a great service for those who can’t afford to take their pets to the veterinarian.

  “May I help you?” a voice wakes me from my thoughts.

  “Oh, yes. We are interested in two dogs.”

  “You would like to get two dogs?” the receptionist eagerly asks.

  “What? No!” Devon asked, confused but quickly replaced by horror.

  “No, worries, sir. Do you have a name or remember the numbers on the cage?” she asked before sending her fingers on frenzy across the keyboard.

  “Chick and Sadie,” I enlighten.

  “Oh, um...,” she does not continue.

  “What?” Devon impatiently asks.

  Her response does not register at first. “They’re sisters?” Devon cries turning toward me with insurmountable pain growing in his face while mine grows into a large grin. He knows what this means. There is no way on the earth I will separate them.

  “It’s meant to be, honey!” I shout, turning back to Devon clapping my hands. This results in Devon and the woman behind the counter jumping from the sharp sound. Devon is a little more eloquent honing in the flinch. The woman was not as fortunate. Pens scatter everywhere with the blow of her hand. Scurrying to collect the items, she somehow—and I am still trying to figure it out how—loses her balance falling off the runaway rolling chair. It would not be so bad if that were all. No, her foot lands on her trash can which happens to be conveniently tucked under her desk. Or shall I say was. It’s not so
convenient now. In an attempt to rush back into her seat, her arm whacks her flimsy paper coffee cup saturating her uniform. Oops.

  “Are you okay?” I yell reaching over the counter trying to help her.

  Holding her hands up as in surrender, “No, ma’am. I’ve got this, thank you.” She’s aggravated at me? Well, excuse me Ms. Prude. Ignoring her rudeness, I return to the subject at hand.

  “Devon, it is meant to be,” I plead.

  He rolls his eyes. “It’s not meant to be. It’s just a coincidence.” He finishes shaking his head.

  “You’re willing to separate them? Really, Devon?” I ask in shock while I lay a heavy blanket of guilt.

  “Relax, Lacey. Let’s see how they do with Evan and we’ll go from there.” YES! How often do you have to twist your husband’s arm to get a dog and you wind up with two? TWO! Smiling wide, I watch Devon register what just happened.

  Since the dogs are sisters, came from the same home, it only felt right both of them join us in the greeting area. Evan fell in love with both. Devon, being the dutiful wonderful father he is, fills out an application for both. Leaving the shelter excited about our new family members has me smiling big. Evan is excited to talk to his train about the dogs. Devon opens the door for me to enter, but grabs my arm before I get in.

  “You now need to pay up double,” he teases against my ear causing my legs to wobble.

  My eyes attract his gorgeous blues and honest love beams giving my heart an extra beat. “Thank you so much for today.” I place a gentle loving kiss on his cheek. “I can’t wait to take them home. Are you excited?”

  The eyes continue to sparkle in addition to a smile. “Yes, because you get to reward me.” He chuckles and swats my rear when I turn to get in the car. My yelp has passerby’s turning. Face hidden, the sound of Devon throwing his head back in laughter is very noticeable.

  Sunday passes slowly with Evan constantly asking where his dogs are. I hope that tomorrow we will receive word if our application is approved or not. Patience is not something my excited little man possesses right now. Devon’s attempts to preoccupy Evan were mediocre. Evan has a strong will personality just like his mama.