by B. B. Hamel
“How likely is it that someone’s going to adopt her?” Jace asks.
“We have a ninety percent adoption rate,” Ann states proudly. “That’s one of the best in the business.”
“What happens to the dogs that don’t get adopted?”
She hesitates. “Well, we move them on,” she says.
“Move them where?”
“Other facilities.”
“Other shelters? That’s just passing the buck, right?”
“In a sense,” she says, trying to edge around the question. “Sometimes those facilities have more resources to care for the animal than we do. It’s a pooling effect.”
“Ah,” Jace says. “And you’d never send a dog to a kill shelter, correct?”
She blinks at him for half a beat. “No, oh god, no, never,” she protests loudly, shaking her head and waving her hands in the air. “Never, ever, ever. We never kill animals.”
“You wouldn’t be doing the killing,” Jace presses. “You’d just be passing it along, pooling resources.”
The woman turns white. “Never,” she says again.
Jace smiles and nods and pets the cute dog in front of him as the woman looks around like a fish flopping on concrete. Her eyes are wide and her face is slowly regaining color, although it looks like she just had some kind of electric shock.
“How about showing me some of those dogs?” Jace asks her. “The problem ones, the ones nobody wants.”
She stammers a bit. “Ah, uh, I don’t know.”
“Come on, it’ll be great for the show. We can show how even those dogs need to be taken care of.”
She grimaces a little bit but eventually she nods. “Okay, yeah, great. Let’s do that.” She leads Jezebel back to a crate and gets her inside before leading us back out through a set of double doors in the back.
Calvin and Eric keep the shot in focus as we move into another room. This room isn’t quite so manicured and it smells like dog feces. There are animals in cages back here, not as many as up front, but enough to fill the room with an animal smell. The cages are spread apart such that no animal is close enough to get near another one. As soon as we step into the room, the dogs break out into angry, wild barking.
“They won’t stop,” Ann says loudly as some kind of brown and gray dog with wide jaws lunges at a cage nearby. “They’ll just keep going, so I don’t know if filming in here is a great idea.”
“Let’s take one out into the other room,” Jace suggests.
Ann looks unhappy about this, but nods. I don’t know how he does it, but he manages to make things happen even when these people really don’t want to. Ann walks over to one of the cages and opens the door. A small black retriever comes out and instantly stops barking. She leashes him quickly before leading him across the room again, toward me and the cameramen.
It happens so fast I barely have time to react. The dog looks at me and its hackles instantly rise. I go to get out of the way but I step into another cage, rattling the dog inside, making him lunge. He can’t get at me as I step away from him, his jaws biting down onto the metal bars and shaking the whole enclosure.
That’s when the dog on the leash lunges. I turn just in time to see Jace tackle him to the ground, diving on top of him and throwing him to the floor. I stare as Jace wrestles him until he calms down, lying on his side and breathing heavily, teeth bared. Jace holds him tight, pushing down on his head to keep him pinned.
“Leash,” he grunts at the woman. She’s standing there, completely horrified. “Leash, damnit,” he repeats.
The woman hands him the leash. He takes it and slowly stands, keeping the dog’s head pinned. He snaps the leash onto the collar gingerly. As soon as he releases its face, the dog jumps to its feet and stares at Jace, who stares right back.
There’s a silent moment. My heart’s hammering and adrenaline’s pumping through my veins. That dog would’ve bitten me if it weren’t for Jace. He tackled a freaking violent animal and wrestled it down on the ground, and now it looks like he’s breaking it.
The dog looks away, tail falling down, body going looser. It’s still at attention, or at least its ears are straight up, but it doesn’t look like it wants to attack.
Jace leads the dog back to the cage, gets it inside, and releases the leash. He slams the door shut and locks it again as the horrified Ann stares at him the whole time.
He comes right up to me, hands on my shoulders. “You okay?”
I’m suddenly acutely aware of the cameras on us. I realize that I’m a part of the show now. There’s no freaking way we won’t use this footage, since that was so incredible and intense, which means I’ll be in these scenes.
Crap. I’m not even wearing any makeup.
“I’m fine,” I say.
“This was my fault,” he says loudly. The dogs are still barking and he wants the mic to pick this up. “This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have asked for this.”
“It’s okay,” Ann says, finally getting herself together. “That dog, he’s not as bad as the others. I’ve never seen him… he barks, but he’s never…”
“It was the other dog,” I say, motioning toward the one in the cage that lunged for me originally. “I think that dog set him off.”
“Has to be,” Jace agrees. “Come on. Let’s go into the other room.”
The woman looks relieved as we follow her back out into the main room. Jace walks with her and they talk through the event, and eventually she brings out more dogs for Jace to pet and play with while the cameras are rolling.
The whole time I just keep seeing that dog, lunging at me, and Jace tackling him to the ground. It was insane, completely insane. I’ve never experienced anything like it. I don’t love dogs, but they’re fine when you know how to act around them, and I’ve always thought I do. That’s the first one that ever bit me, or at least tried to.
I’m still shaking when the segment is finished filming. Jace handles everything, thanks the whole stuff profusely, sticks around to take pictures with a couple fans and answers some questions before we finally pack up and head out to the rented van.
I’m standing near the passenger side, biting my lip and staring back at the place, when Jace comes up to me. “You okay?”
“What?” I look back at him, a little startled. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine.”
“That was intense back there.”
“Crazy,” I say, laughing a little.
“Sorry I brought you into that. I honestly… I had no clue it would be so bad.”
“What do you think they’ll do with him?”
Jace shrugs and leans up against the van, shoving his hands into his pockets. I want to reach out and touch his face, maybe kiss him again, but I resist the stupid urge.
“Dunno,” he says finally. “Probably send him to a kill shelter.”
I wince a little. “You think they actually do that?”
“She all but admitted it. I mean, you saw her, right?”
“She denied it.”
“Of course she did, she was on camera.” He sighs and shrugs a little. “Doesn’t matter, I guess. Poor dog, though.”
I stare at his face, studying him closely. I can’t believe he’s sad about that dog. It attacked me, almost bit me… but maybe I can understand why he feels this way.
The dog was just being a dog. It was shoved in a cage and put into this horrible place because someone decided that they didn’t want to take care of it anymore. And that terrible moment happened, where the dog just reacted and now it’s probably going to be put down. Maybe not by this shelter, but by some shelter somewhere.
Jace probably feels like that dog. Just doing what he does, being the sort of man he is, gets him into trouble. He has to conform or else get thrown out. This whole show is his last chance, and maybe that moment back there in the shelter was that dog’s last chance.
That dog failed. I don’t think Jace will.
I reach out stupidly, not thinking about it, and pull his right hand from
his pocket. He watches me, not smiling, eyebrows raised. I take his hand between mine, his big, strong hand, and I squeeze it. “Thank you,” I say.
“For what?”
“For what you did back there, tackling that dog.”
“Just did what I had to do,” he says softly, but he doesn’t smile. I expect a joke, but it doesn’t come.
I hold his hand tighter. I want him to pull me close and kiss me, but the crew’s wandering around, loading the equipment. Holding his hand like this is risk enough. They’d see a kiss.
“Yeah, well,” he says finally. I release his hand and he slips it back into his pocket, pushing up and off the van. “Just did what I had to do.”
“Thanks,” I say softly. He nods and walks off, goes to help Calvin load more stuff away.
I chew my lip and watch the men work before getting into the passenger side seat. I didn’t ask for this, for any of this, but here I am. He saved me from a dog… and now I’m wondering what else he’ll save me from.
Maybe I don’t even know what’s coming up on the horizon, but Jace does. I didn’t know he’d risk himself like that for me, diving on an angry animal. He could’ve been bitten, could’ve risked the whole show in that moment, but he did it anyway. He did it for me.
The thought sends a cold chill down my spine as the guys pile into their seats and we hit the road, Jace behind the wheel, shooting me cryptic, handsome glances.
19
Jace
I drive out toward Boyle Heights, the crew shoved into the van.
“Where the fuck are we?” Calvin grumbles from the back seat.
I grin at him in the rearview. “You’ll see.”
Piper frowns at me. I’ve been keeping quiet about this particular shoot. Today was supposed to be an off day for everyone, but I convinced the gang to pull together for an extra afternoon. Even Piper doesn’t know what I have planned, and I can tell she’s worried as hell about it.
That’s fine by me, she can be worried all she wants. I’m smiling to myself as I pull through the quickly gentrifying neighborhood, past old-school taco places all in Spanish, overly expensive hipster cafes, and the ever-ubiquitous Starbucks. I pull down a few side streets, driving close to the curb, before finally pulling over in front of a drab-looking brown apartment building set back from the street. Lush trees cover the front and the gate out front is covered in vines.
“Here we are,” I say to them, killing the engine.
“What is this place?” Piper asks me.
“You’ll see. Guys, grab the cameras, let’s get to this. We’re on a tight schedule.”
Calvin and Eric share a look, but they do what I ask and start unloading. I stand off to the side, watching as they get ready, grinning the whole time.
Piper lingers nearby, looking worried. “Listen, Jace, I know I haven’t pressed you on this, but come on. You have to tell me what we’re going to shoot.” She gives the building a wary look. “Is this, like, a crack house or something?”
I let out a genuine laugh, shaking my head. “Not even close.”
She chews her bottom lip. “Come on. Just give me a hint or something.”
“Keep stewing.”
She sighs as the guys finish up. Once they’re ready, I push open the rusty gate and lead them up the walkway. We head inside, down a short series of hallways, past a bunch of different apartments, and finally end up in front of number 116.
I knock, wait a second, and knock again. The door flings open and an older woman with dark dyed hair, dark blue eyeshadow, a flowing peasant blouse and skirt, and a tasteful little necklace grins up at me.
“Oh, my, GOD. It’s really you.”
I grin at her. “Hi, Mom.”
She throws her arms around my neck and I hug her tight. My mother is pushing sixty and slim, almost emaciated. She smells like Virginia Slims and red wine, which she basically lives on, and I gave up a while ago trying to get her to quit.
“Mom, this is the gang,” I say, gesturing at the stunned and surprised crew. “This is Calvin, Eric, Grant, and my wife, Piper.”
Piper turns beet red when I gesture at her, which gives me endless amounts of pleasure, but my mom doesn’t even skip a beat. It’s almost like she didn’t hear me, or maybe she’s just used to my bullshit by now. Probably both.
“Well, hello to all yous,” my mom says in her absurd New Jersey accent. “Come in, come on in, get in here.” She ushers them all inside, into her cramped little living room, and makes sure they’re all settled before bringing out some tea.
“Mom, you don’t have to bring this shit out,” I say to her. “Nobody ever drinks it.”
“I’d like some,” Piper says softly.
“Look at you, so pretty, so thin,” Mom says, pouring her a cup. I roll my eyes and gesture at Calvin and Eric to get their shit ready. They set things up as Grant preps the mics. “I knew he’d land a polite girl in the end, my boy always did like a polite girl.”
“We’re not really married,” Piper says, accepting the tea from my mom. She sips it and I watch as she actively tries to keep the disgust off her face. My mom makes the worst tea in the world, and although I’ve seen her do it a million times, I don’t know how she gets it to be both bland and gross.
“Of course you’re not,” Mom says. “He’s not going to settle down, are you, Jacey?”
“Nope,” I say proudly. “Except for Piper, maybe.”
Piper blushes again and even manages another sip. My mom sits down in her easy chair and sparks up a cigarette. “So, why the hell are there cameras and microphones and lights in my damn apartment?”
“Well, Mom, you know we’re doing a show, right?”
“Sure, sure,” she says. “You told me about it on the phone.”
“Well, we’re going to film a segment with you.”
“Me?” She snorts a laugh. “Why the hell would you want an old lady like me?”
“Because you’ve been living in LA for, what, ten years now?”
“Sure,” she says, shrugging. “Ten and some change.”
“This episode is about the city, so maybe you can say something about it.”
“What’s there to say? It’s big and dirty and a lot of people live here. The rich people live in the hills and the poor people live in Boyle Heights.” She cracks a whip-sharp laugh, which makes me smile. That laugh always makes me smile.
“How about we cook something, huh? Maybe make some cookies?”
“Cookies, you always want cookies.” Mom looks at Piper and winks at her. “You want my boy to love you, make him some damn cookies.”
“She’s not wrong,” I say.
“Thanks for the tip.” Piper is clearly very uncomfortable. Calvin and Eric are filming now and Piper is going to be a part of this scene if she can’t find a way to get out of it soon.
“Come on then,” Mom says, standing. “You boys can bring your stupid toys if you want. We’ll make some stupid cookies. Piper dear, you coming?”
Piper glares at me like she wants to rip my head off but I just smile at her. “She’s coming,” I say. “She’s polite, remember?”
Piper rolls her eyes at me and stands. We follow my mom into the kitchen where we spend the next couple hours baking cookies.
My mom’s an amazing person. She raised me all alone after my father split, and we stayed in New Jersey for a while before coming out here to LA. I didn’t live here all that long before going back to the East Coast for college, and after that I supported myself without my mother, but my short time in this city helped when my TV career started up.
As for my mother, she’s been thriving ever since I left. She has her own little business selling oysters with pearls inside. It’s kind of a scam but she runs these online Facebook Live events where women pay for the oysters and my mom cracks them open, one by one. Each oyster has a freshwater pearl inserted, which are way cheaper than the saltwater kind, so she does pretty well with it. And that’s just one of her many side hustles.
“That’s what I do too, Mom,” I say. “I’m selling an experience.”
“Exactly, I’ve been saying it forever, haven’t I?”
“Experience is key, give it a narrative, that’s all you need.”
“Bingo. That’s my boy.” She looks at Piper. “Smartest man around, right?”
“Sure,” Piper says, glancing at the camera. “One of the smartest in the business.”
I laugh at her as my mom waves her non-answer away. “My boy’s a genius, just you wait,” she says, nodding, and goes back to baking her cookies.
I keep stealing glances at Piper as we finish up in the kitchen. Although she’s uncomfortable on camera, she’s clearly enjoying my mom, like I knew she would. It’s hard not to have a good time in my mom’s presence. She’s exuberant, excited, incredibly positive and fun. She’s the most upbeat and amazing person I know. It’s easy to forget when I don’t see her all that often, and I won’t pretend like coming to film in LA wasn’t partially about getting to spend time with my mother. Watching Piper squirm is just an added bonus.
We head into the dining room where I help Mom clear the table of books on alternative medicine and yoga. We sit down and eat the cookies as the guys film.
“So, Piper, what are your intentions for my son?” my mom asks her.
Piper blanches. “I’m just his producer,” she says.
“Oh, really? You haven’t been shooting him these looks all day?”
“No, no looks,” she says, almost panicked.
I lean back to enjoy this. Mom always knows how to push buttons. It’s almost masterful.
“Maybe you don’t notice, but everyone else does,” Mom says. “I mean, the cameras got it. Right, camera boys? They saw you, grinning at Jacey here like he’s a prizefighter or something.”