Finding Home

by Sarah Collins

  “Well it is,” Naomi responds. “And I’ve even packed my bags to prove it.”

  Dylan’s eyebrows skyrocket. “Seriously?”

  “While I was waiting for you to show up.” Naomi grins. “I was hoping you’d say yes.”

  “I can’t imagine saying anything else.” Dylan takes a small step back. She puts on a faux-concerned face. “But did you say bags? Plural?”

  “Yes...why?”

  “Unless they’re pretty tiny, we have some rearranging to do before we go anywhere.” She tilts her head towards the van. “It’s pretty tight in there already.”

  “Don’t worry,” Naomi says. With a grin, she presses her hand to Dylan’s chest, right against her heart. “They’re very small bags. All I really need is you.”

  They kiss again, and Dylan realizes she would empty out all her belongings if it that’s what it took to have Naomi there by her side.

  Chapter 9

  Naomi, sitting comfortably in the passenger seat, opens the too large paper map. She turns it this way and that before figuring out which way it goes. “I still don’t understand why you don’t use a GPS like a normal person.”

  “And I don’t understand why I always have to explain that it’s more about the experience than the destination,” Dylan retorts playfully.

  “Yeah yeah,” Naomi teases right back. “I’m just saying my experience is getting dampened by this massive paper blocking my view.”

  Dylan grins. Naomi likes to complain, but it’s all in good nature. The past two weeks with her on the road have been two of the best weeks of Dylan’s life. They’ve integrated their lives together in the small space seamlessly. It’s as though they are meant to do this, and meant to do it together.

  “Alright,” Naomi finally says. Her finger follows a blue line on the map. “I think I found it. In eight-ish miles we’re going to make a right onto Escobar.”

  Dylan commits it to memory. Going 30 mph, should take about 16 minutes… she loves guessing and checking how long it takes to get somewhere. She looks over at Naomi, sitting cross-legged and buckled. She never imaged she would get here, travelling around with the most amazing, wonderful woman she’s ever met. This is the closest she’s ever felt to being wholly content.

  She cracks the windows, letting the warm wind blow around wisps of their hair. The stale air instantly leaves the van, replaces with the fresh scent of the passing Idahoan outdoors. They decided to drive to the Northeast while it’s still warm. They’ll end in Maine by September, make it back to Idaho for Christmas. She’s never met a girlfriend’s family before, but Naomi already told her to get ready for it. Dylan’s going to meet her parents, sisters, grandparents, aunts—the whole shebang. Even Amelia, who’s been out for a solid week now. Naomi has been texting her on and off, getting to know her like never before. Dylan can’t wait to meet her and see if she’s just as strong and brash as the woman currently sitting in her passenger seat. She has a feeling they’ll be fast friends, despite all the hardships Amelia has faced in her short life.

  When Naomi’s hand lands on her thigh, stroking gently, she realizes that even the most uncomfortable family gathering will be worth it with Naomi by her side. Maybe they’ll even go visit her mom in Berkley for a late Christmas gathering. As a professor, she’d love to meet Naomi and grill her on Idaho life. Maybe she’ll even forget being mad about Dylan continuing her travels if she knows how great of a person she’s travelling with now.

  Even though it’s entirely premature, she’s even told her entire van crew to be ready for a meet up in February. They’ll meet Naomi—and surely love her—drink some beers, set up tents and bonfires, smoke a little bit, and share the highs and lows of their recent travels. Maybe they’ll even give Dylan a few ideas on where to go next. She’s thinking about going down south, like South America south, to visit Patagonia and the Andes. She’ll still have to run it by Naomi, but god—it would be amazing to see with the woman she loves by her side.

  “It should be coming up,” Naomi says.

  “Nah,” she disagrees, glancing at the clock. “Four more minutes.”

  Naomi’s brow crinkles. “How do you know that?”

  “Umm…math,” Dylan quips. A smile cracks her face. “It’s a fun game I like to play—“

  “Oh my god!” Naomi squeals, pressing her face to the passenger window. “Stop the car.”

  Dylan lightly presses on the brakes. “What?”

  Naomi turns quickly towards her. “You need to stop the car.”

  Dylan pulls over on the next cross street. Panic remains etched on her face as she jerks the car in park. A thousand thoughts fly through her head at once. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothings wrong per say,” Naomi explains. Her eyes get bright with excitement. “But there were puppies on the side of the road.”

  Dylan’s face contorts into something half-pissed, half-confused. “What the…puppies?”

  “Free puppies,” Naomi annunciates. Her dark eyes grow even rounder and she clasps her hands under her chin. “Can we go see them? Please.”

  “I’m confused,” she admits. “Where are they? Was it a sign? I’m not about to get lured into some creep’s house just to get murdered right when I finally found my happiness.”

  “While that’s very sweet,” Naomi says, “We aren’t going to get murdered. There was a little old couple sitting on the side of the road with a box of free puppies. Look, right down there.”

  Dylan looks past Naomi, less than a football field away. Sure enough, there are two old people in lawn chairs sitting right on the edge of the old road. There’s a large cardboard box right between them.

  It looks safe enough, but—

  “Wait wait wait,” Dylan says, shaking her head. “You want a puppy?”

  “I think it’s time,” Naomi answers. “Don’t you? It would be so much fun to have a little puppy running around the world with us. It could be in all of our pictures, wear little t-shirts and bandanas, cuddle with us when it’s cold outside…Just like Davie. I know you miss him more than you care to say.”

  Dylan tosses the idea around in her head. She misses Davie so much, but he was twelve years old. Not exactly an energetic ball of fluff anymore. “Puppies are hard work, Nay. We’ll have to stop every few hours for like…ever.”

  Naomi leans over, grinning and then kissing Dylan’s cheek. “It’s me and you, baby. All we’ve got is time.”

  Dylan thinks for a moment. Naomi isn’t wrong. They have no commitments, no set times to be anywhere. And while the past two weeks have been beyond phenomenal, there has been something missing. Just a tiny something she hasn’t been able to put her finger on. Not between them, of course, but in general. This could be it. Maybe they do need something inherently theirs. A puppy would make for great pictures, great stories, and even better adventures. Davie gave her the time of her life; she can’t imagine a puppy doing any less.

  “Okay,” Dylan agrees, nodding. “Let’s go look.”

  Naomi contains her excitement long enough to make sure she isn’t pressuring Dylan into something she doesn’t want. “If you don’t like any of them, just say the word.”

  She grins. “Deal.”

  Naomi claps quickly before hopping from the van. They walk down to the old couple, hand-in-hand.

  “Coming to see the pups?”

  Dylan nods at the woman. “Yes, ma’am. We figured we give it a look.”

  “Well good,” the man answers. “Our dog went roaming around and found herself with a litter. Can’t keep ‘em all, so we figured we’d spread the joy with some other folks.”

  “How old are they?”

  “Just a few months,” the woman answers. “I had to feed a couple by hand, but they’re all weaned now.”

  “Do you know what kind?” Naomi asks. “Or at least what kind of mix?”

  “Not a clue,” the woman answers. “Our Sadie is a farm dog, and we don’t have a clue who she got a hold of either. But I do know these little bab
ies love people.”

  “They’ve been wormed too. Shots are on you though,” the man follows. The box starts squealing the unmistakable way puppies do. “Go ahead. Take a look.”

  The women walk over to the crate, only to be greeted by five little puppies. Not a single one of them look the same: a solid black puppy, a brown shorthair, a spotted one, one with blue eyes, and another with the pinkest nose she’s ever seen.

  “I want all of them,” Naomi squeals. She sticks her hand in the crate, and they assault her with little puppy licks. “They are so cute.”

  “Easy,” she jokes. “That was not part of the plan.”

  “I know, I know. It’s just going to be so hard to choose.” Their eyes meet. “Are there any you are drawn to in particular?”

  “You pick. It was your idea.”

  “True.” Naomi contemplates, watching how different ones react to each other and to her petting them. “How about I pick two, and then you go from there.”

  “Sounds fair to me,” Dylan nods. She has her eyes set on one already, but says nothing. Any puppy will be better than no puppy. It won’t fill the Davie-size hole in her heart, but it will add the only thing missing in their little van home.

  Naomi rules out the ones who run away, instead honing in on two that are perpetually interested in her. One of them is clearly the runt, barely half as tall as the other. He has brown, curly fur and the brightest pink nose. The other, one of the heaviest in the crate, has brown and white spots dotting his body. They’re extremely different; it’s impossible to even fathom a guess on what they’ll look like fully grown.

  “These two,” Naomi settles on. She looks up hopefully. “What do you think?”

  The curly brown hops up and down on his back legs, trying to reach Naomi outside of the crate. He’s adorable and tiny, perfect for vanlife. The other, spotted and fat, looks like he would love adventure…and a lot of food. He’s nearly as cute, but his appearance isn’t what matters most—it’s how he’ll adapt to their roaming lifestyle. And, unfortunately, it looks like he’ll end up being too big for their limited space.

  Dylan sticks her hand in the crate, picking up the tiny puppy with the pink nose. It’s the one she had her eyes set on from the beginning. He instantly licks her cheeks, her neck, her hands—his little pink nose trying to sniff every scent lingering on her skin. She can’t help but laugh.

  “Hey now,” she says, smiling. “I really like you too.” She holds him out, noting how his small body fits perfectly in both hands. The ridiculously soft, wavy hair would look perfect peeking out of a little doggie sweater. He seems to love being cuddled against her chest, which means good cuddles and great obedience later down the line…

  Her eyes meet Naomi. She raises the puppy up and presses him against her face. “How do we look?”

  Naomi returns the smile, whole and pure delight. “Absolutely perfect.”

  Dylan kisses the top of the puppy’s head. “What’ll we name him?”

  “Norman,” Naomi says, petting the small body. “After the place we met.”

  She looks back to the puppy. Maybe it’s the irony, maybe it’s the sentiment, but the name fits. “Norman,” she repeats. “It’s perfect.”

  “Just like you,” Naomi says.

  Dylan playfully rolls her eyes. She loves this woman more than she ever knew possible. Years of waiting and traveling alone across the country culminated into this, the most perfectly wonderful experience of her life.

  Less than ten minutes later, they find themselves walking back to their little van-home—Dylan, Norman, and Naomi, ready to start their next adventure all together.