“That should be obvious August.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know how babies are made. But when?”
“Gestation is roughly sixty three days give or take.”
“And how did she find another wolf?”
“She didn't.”
August pushed up on an elbow. A wayward branch tried to poke him in the eye. He pushed it out of the way. “Then who's the father?”
“Probably a stray dog. Or a coyote.”
“But it could be a wolf.”
“They're not very common around here, most are mixes with coyotes, but yeah it could be a wolf, or it could be all the above.”
“You mean a mix?”
“No, I mean each puppy can have a different father.”
Daisy batted her eyes at August. “You hussy.”
Keegan continued to glare. Fine, let him be bent out of shape. He wasn't going to ruin August's mood. He wiggled out from under the tree. “I'm going to go get dressed.”
“I thought we were staying home today?” Keegan stood.
“That was before we became parents.” Would the pet store have all the things Daisy would need? Whatever those things were.
Keegan was a stone monolith in the middle of the living room. His brows were down, and his mouth made a thin line. “We are not parents.”
“Of course we are.”
“You did not give birth to those...” Keegan screwed up his face. “And I sure as hell didn't give birth to them.”
“Parents by proxy, Keegan. Come on, we need to go pick up some supplies.”
“We've got a whole freezer full of fresh meat for her.”
“Not Daisy. The babies. They'll need stuff.”
A flush crawled up Keegan's neck.
“Go get dressed, so you won't get arrested for shoplifting.” August had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing as Keegan's angry expression turned to confusion.
“Why the hell would I get arrested for shoplifting?”
August pointed to Keegan's cock poking out of the slit of his boxers. “Because they'll think you stole that python from the reptile department.”
Keegan adjusted his boxers and stormed past August and into the bedroom. He followed. Keegan yanked on his pants. Jerked on a shirt.
August rolled his eyes. “Do you think they have baby books?”
Keegan narrowed his glare.
“What?” August shrugged. “There has to be a book on puppies, right? How else are people going to know what they need?”
“They have everything they need from Daisy.”
“There's eight of them.”
Keegan widened his eyes.
“Oops, sorry, I forgot to tell you she had a couple more since the last head count I did before dinner.”
Keegan freight trained past August, grabbing his wallet and keys on the way out the front door.
“Hey, where are you going?” August grabbed his shoes and wallet then chased Keegan down the walkway. “Wait up.” August limped up the path to the car.
Keegan glowered by the driver's side door.
“C'mon, you have to be at least a little bit happy.” August got in the car.
So did Keegan. He continued to glare out the windshield as he started the engine.
“Or not.”
Keegan growled.
“You know you sound just like a wolf when you do that. You sure you haven't been sneaking around behind my back.”
“Not funny.”
“I don't know, there were a couple in there with your eyes.”
“Their eyes are closed and will be for two weeks.”
“Your nose then.”
Keegan cut a sideways look at August as he drove up the driveway. Green conifers punctuated skeletal tree limbs. Stars scattered across the darkening sky fading away at the last remnants of the sunset.
There was one thing August did miss about Alaska, the Aurora Borealis. Not even the stars could compete with the dance of lights across the night sky.
There were few things that magical.
At the top of August's list?
Puppies.
*****
Cars packed the parking lot outside the Pet Superstore, and people filled the aisles between the vehicles, their arms loaded with bags, pushing buggies overflowing with a variety of beds, food, and toys. A poor store employee wrestled a three-story scratching post into the back of a hatchback.
Keegan made another lap around the parking lot creeping at a snail’s pace because no one watched where they walked. Not the parents let alone their children. Two little kids wearing Santa suits shot in front of the car with a golden retriever in tow.
“They're busy.” August waved at an elderly lady with a cockatoo on her shoulder.
“It's almost Christmas, of course, they’re busy.”
“I figured everyone would be at home this time of day eating dinner and doing family stuff. Packing to go to the grandparents.”
A promising gap appeared between two trucks. “Why would they stay home when they could be sitting in traffic jams and fighting for useless crap on the clearance shelf?”
August tossed Keegan a look. “Okay, Scrooge, you need to unclench your ass cheeks before you hurt yourself.”
A crowd of pedestrians surged around the car. Keegan tightened his hands on the steering wheel. Sweat beaded on his forehead. A tremor danced down his spine.
“Keegan.”
High pitched laughter, happy voices, the grind of buggy wheels against asphalt, raked over Keegan's nerves. Nausea coiled in his gut. Keegan took a deep breath eased it out.
“Fuck, Keegan, I'm sorry.” August put a hand over one of Keegan's. “I didn't even think about the crowds.”
After living in absolute solitude for ten years, it would seem the company of people would be a welcoming change. Keegan had thought so until the first time he had tried to go grocery shopping and wound up frozen in the produce section unable to move because he was surrounded by mothers and their screaming toddlers.
“We'll go home. I'll come back tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow’s Sunday, they'll be closed.”
“Then the day after.”
“The closer to Christmas the worse the crowds will be.”
August tightened his grip. “Then I'll come alone.”
And leave Keegan at home because he couldn't do something as simple as shop. Considering what he'd survived in Alaska, a few overstressed suburban families should have been a snap. “I'm okay.”
“You're pale.”
“I'll be okay.” The crowd broke, and Keegan was able to claim the parking spot before anyone else. August wore a broken expression. Keegan shook free of his hold. “I'll be fine. I promise.”
August clenched his jaw. If he argued Keegan would give in and he didn't want to give in. He felt handicapped enough when it came to using a computer, programming a TV, or the DVD player. Now all the devices talked to each other which made everything ten times as complex.
Keegan wasn't even going to think about the smart phone August insisted he carry.
A guy in a football jersey walked a small ball of white fluff on the island of wood chips separating a section of the parking lot. A woman about the same age wearing a sweater covered in a reindeer motif loaded the back of their SUV with various dog beds, pink sweaters, toys, food. The man's unhappy gaze went from her to the little dog.
Keegan got out and gave the guy a sympathetic glance.
“I hope they have what we'll need.” August fell in step beside Keegan as they walked towards the store.
“Do you even know what you need?”
August took out his phone. “Google knows everything.”
Keegan snorted. “Maybe I should look up how to make eight puppies disappear.”
August punched him in the shoulder.
“Owe.” Keegan made a show of rubbing his arm.
“You better not say stuff like that where the babies can hear you.” Laughter dan
ced in August's eyes.
Ignore it. He's baiting you.
“Have you thought of any names yet? If not, we should.” August slipped his arm in Keegan’s. “I thought half could have your last name, half mine. Or do you think that would confuse them when they start puppy kindergarten.”
Keegan skidded to a halt.
August tugged on his arm. “C'mon, the sooner we get this done, the sooner we can go home and admire our brood of fuzzy jelly beans.”
Keegan walked. “I can think of much better things to spend my time staring at.” Like August. Keegan could stare at him for hours.
August put his lips close to Keegan's ear, tickling the shell with an exhale. “Be good there are kids watching.”
Sure enough, a group of little girls in red velvet dresses held hands while they waited for their parents to guide them across the crosswalk.
August led Keegan into the store. The hard white of fluorescents smacked Keegan in the face. People jostled past him, around him, cutting him off. Their tired voices butchered the holiday music plummeting from the overhead speakers in scratchy bursts.
“Bottles and milk.” August scanned the signs hanging from the ceiling.
Keegan sidestepped an old man pushing a buggy. “Wait, what?”
August held up his phone. “Bottles and milk.”
“Daisy will provide the milk.”
“But there's eight of them.”
“And she'll make enough milk to feed them.”
August tapped the screen of his phone. “But it says here when a dog has a big litter the mother can have problems feeding them, and they could starve.”
“She's a wolf, not a dog.”
“Yeah, but the puppies could still die.”
“Only one or two.”
August's mouth fell open.
“It's normal.” Keegan shrugged. “Only the fittest survive.”
August snapped his mouth shut walked away.
“What?” Hell, what had he said?
August disappeared down an aisle leaving Keegan knee deep in a pack of mutts all tethered to the same leash.
“Oh, sorry.” The young woman holding the leash tried to untangle them from where they'd wrapped Keegan's leg. They pressed their cold noses against his ankles.
The woman craned her neck up at him and smiled. “You must have a dog at home.”
Keegan dropped his shoulders. “Unfortunately.”
The woman's happy expression fell. Keegan was able to untangle his legs without falling and stepped over the pack of wagging tails.
He found August browsing a shelf packed with cans, cartons, and powdered versions of canine replacement formula. He had a bottle in both hands comparing them.
Keegan started in August’s direction. The bottom half of a sign hanging from the ceiling caught Keegan across the forehead. He stumbled back. “Damn it.”
“You might want to watch out for that sign.” August didn’t look at him.
Keegan rubbed his forehead. The dent in his skin matched the weights holding down the end of the banner. He ducked under it and walked over.
“You deserved that.” August picked up another bottle.
“What did I do?”
“Do you really have to ask?”
The throbbing ache above Keegan’s eyes moved to his temple. “Apparently.”
“Here, hold this.” August put a bottle in one of Keegan’s hands and picked up another.
A woman with pink hair and a poodle dyed the same color passed by them in the aisle, followed by two guys and an assortment of small children varying in age, then a cluster of college students wearing varsity jackets. Every one of them looked up at Keegan. They disappeared around the corner. One of them reappeared giving Keegan another once over. He glanced back at his friends. “Fuck did you see that guy, he’s like the Jolly Green Giant.” He left again and whatever else the kid said to his friends was lost under a xylophone rendition of “Rudolf the Red Nose Reindeer.”
August smiled a little. “I’ve always seen you as more of the Paul Bunyan type myself.”
“I’m not that tall.”
August raised an eyebrow.
“You’re tall, and no one stares at you.”
“There’s tall then there’s Keegan tall.” August grinned. “You act like this is news. Or have you already forgotten how hard it was to buy a bed your feet didn’t hang off of?”
It had taken a custom order mattress as expensive as a good used car. Keegan would have gladly slept on the floor, but August had insisted.
Besides, it wasn’t as if they were hurting for money. Not after the settlement with the charter jet company whose plane had crashed with August on it.
Keegan put the bottle back on the shelf.
“Hang on to that one.” August handed him another.
“Why do you need both?”
“There are eight puppies.” He picked up two more.
“You can’t feed them all at once.”
“I have two hands and so do you.”
August checked his phone and picked up a super-sized bag of powdered milk and handed it to Keegan. He tucked it under his arm.
“August, you don’t need bottles and milk.”
“I might.” He headed to the end of the aisle. “Here.” He picked up a large bale of…
“No.” Keegan glared. “You do not need pee pads.”
“Where will they go if we don’t have pee pads?” August shoved the package into Keegan’s arms. He almost lost his hold on the milk, and one of the bottles did a flip in his hand before he caught it.
“How about the yard.”
“They’re too little for the yard.”
“They’ll grow, trust me. They’ll grow really fast.”
“And until then they can’t go outside, something might carry them off.” August took a right at the end of the aisle.
Keegan followed.
August scrolled through the list on his cell phone. What kind of insane article tells people to buy pee pads for a litter of puppies? Keegan peered over August’s shoulder.
The title read: The Top Fifty Items Every New Pet Parent Must Have.
“Pet parent?” The words practically tasted like dog shit.
“What else do you expect to be called?” August chose a stack of tiny dishes. He set them on Keegan’s forearm and leaning against Keegan’s shoulder. The bottom dish balanced on the baby bottle, he currently had a death grip on. “And before you complain, they need bowls to eat out of.”
“In a couple of months, they’ll be wearing these bowls on their giant puppy feet.”
“So we need bigger bowls.”
“No, we don’t need—” August propped another stack, wedging it between Keegan’s hand and shoulder. The middle of the pillar bowed dangerously over the bag of milk. Christ, how much more shit could August think those puppies needed?
He picked up two kitty litter boxes.
“We’re not getting a cat, Daisy will eat it.”
“No, she won’t. And these aren’t for a cat.”
Keegan raised an eyebrow.
August showed him the new article on his phone: Litter Box Training for Puppies 101. “You know, in case it’s raining or something, so they won’t catch a cold.” He turned.
“August.”
He looked at Keegan.
A group of teenagers dressed as elves, two women with strollers, and what looked like an entire family reunion of redheads, squeezed past Keegan and August.
The old man in overalls bumped into Keegan, and he teetered to the right almost losing his grip on the bottom of the bowls.
Keegan eased out a sigh. “August, I love you. You know I love you.”
August continued to stare. Those dark eyes. Fierce eyes. Windows right into the man’s soul where his strength was as powerful as the sun, and his love burned ten times hotter.
And at least half of that love belonged to one mangy wolf.
Keegan slumped. “I’m going to go get a
buggy.”
And damn it, August had to go and smile. “I’ll be in the toy section.” He wound his way through the deluge of people and across the store.
*****
August put another couple of bags of chew treats in the buggy.
Keegan watched the crowd. A dog barked, a kid squealed. He tightened his grip on the buggy. The whites of his knuckles showed through his tan skin.
August still had at least two-dozen items on the list.
A balloon popped and Keegan startled.
“That should do it. Are you ready to go?”
Keegan still had his eyes shut. August leaned into him. “Hey? You fall asleep on me?” He knew Keegan hadn’t, but he wanted to keep from bruising the man’s pride as much as possible.
While August had gone through an adjustment period after returning to the lower states, he’d acclimated in months. Keegan however, had yet to relax when they were outside the house.
“Hey.” August put his hand over Keegan’s.
He blinked like he’d just noticed August was there. “Did you need something off the top shelf?”
“Nope. We’re done.”
Some of the tension in Keegan’s expression smoothed out.
“Unless of course, you see something we need.”
“No.”
“Didn’t think so.”
The lines ran from the front of the store all the way to the cart of gourmet dog biscuits close to the middle.
Keegan took one look at the traffic jam of human bodies and paled.
“Hey, why don’t you go ahead and go warm up the car and I’ll call you when I’m about done, and you can be my valet.”
“I’m fine.”
“Keegan.”
“I need to do this August.” He dropped his chin. “I have to do this.”
“But you don’t have to do it right now.”
“Then when?”
It was a perfectly logical question. August just didn’t have an answer. Keegan nodded as if he’d heard the thought.
He put an arm around August’s shoulders and kissed his temple. “Thanks.”
A guy in overalls with a coonhound on a chain gave them both a once over. He seemed to decide picking the fleas off his dog’s head was a far safer pastime.
The line shuffled forward at a holiday pace. When August reached the cashier, Keegan helped him unload the cart.
63 Days Later: A Holiday Tail Page 2