by Clare James
If Tris came through, it wouldn’t be long before we’d have the money we needed to properly run the place. We just had to keep our perfect record going for a little longer.
Tris: Good. Hang in there and I’ll be in touch soon.
I gave my friend a super gooey thank you—not something I did regularly, but his generosity warranted it—and said goodbye.
Finally in good spirits, I was ready for a little me time.
Saturday mornings were my favorite. They were the one slotted time where I wasn’t overbooked. I stretched out my arms overhead in a luxurious reaching motion, letting my mind drift back my dream again. How sad, I now had to resort to little gifts from the Sandman to make up for my neglected sex life.
I reminisced about the best part, when my dream guy pinned me down on my bed. But the fantasy was interrupted by Oscar’s cold, wet tongue.
Ugh, that was incredibly unsettling.
“I thought it was too early to get up, Mister,” I said. He wagged his tail, telling me he’d changed his mind.
I’d been lucky that my landlord allowed me to have the dogs in the apartment. I was the only one with animals in the building. Though I’m not exactly proud of the way I got Oscar— who may or may not have been introduced to my landlord as a therapy dog—into the place. But sometimes you have to bend the truth a little for the greater good. And saving Oscar was one of the best things I’d ever done.
He’s the kindest companion I could ever ask for. Oscar never judged, put me down, or put any conditions on his love. So unlike some other people I knew. It’s really no joke that dogs are better than men. And I knew that no matter what I did, Oscar would always be there for me.
The other pups pounced around on the bed and joined the leader of the pack. Now these other two, I wasn’t so sure about. We hadn’t fully bonded yet, maybe because they knew this was only a temporary home for them. Plus, I tried to set up boundaries. The girls went into my spare room at night, until they started crying or fussing. It was like a puppy sanctuary in there with new dog beds, scented lavender, and calming colors on the walls. They’d had a rough start to life and I thought they’d be more adoptable once they experienced a good home. Ruby and Molly weren’t the first to stay; my spare bedroom had become a transitionary place for troubled pets. A place where they could detox or rehab before they were ready to be adopted—a service that was scarce, but desperately needed. As soon as the time was right, I’d run my doggie detox idea past Gloria. Maybe we could offer the service as part of the shelter’s program. Not that my landlord would necessarily agree to this. He still had no any idea about the other two residents squatting in his building. But he wasn’t around very often, and I doubted he could tell the difference between one pet or three. That’s what I told myself anyway.
The four of us padded into the kitchen and I ground my Costa Rican coffee beans while the dogs paced under my feet. The rich scent of the beans helped perk me up.
“You guys know the rules,” I told them. “I take care of myself first and you second. After all, the pilot can’t fly the plane unless she has her own oxygen mask on.” That’s exactly how I felt about my morning coffee.
As the pot gurgled to life, I put the kibble in the dog dishes, which would hopefully appease them for about ten minutes or so—long enough for me to get some caffeine in my system before I had to take them out to do their business.
Ruby hit her dish first, eating so fast she gagged. Poor thing still hadn’t gotten used to having food every day. Molly took the opposite approach; she savored each bite. Funny, you could really tell a lot about a dog by the way they did simple things, like eating their morning kibble.
Then there was Oscar, who waited patiently for the others to be done, guarding his dish the entire time. He couldn’t enjoy his food while others watched. He liked his privacy. I understood. I was more cautious and protective myself.
Wow, here I was waxing poetic about the dogs’ approach to mealtime. That human contact might be needed more than I originally thought.
Still, as I sat on the stool slurping my morning coffee, I couldn’t help but notice how content I was for the first time in a long time. I didn’t need to have a man. I didn’t need to have a lot of friends. Shoot, as sad as it sounded, I didn’t even need to have my family. I was really okay. And spending the morning with my animals running in between my legs and jumping up on the furniture, gave me the most overwhelming warming feeling in my heart.
Or it did…until the phone rang.
I practically fell off my stool when it did, because there was no one, other than Tris, who would call at this time of day. Or in general, really.
Ah, it was the shelter. Now that made sense.
“Have you had your coffee yet?” Gloria asked by way of hello.
“About halfway there,” I told her, feeling a little hole in my gut.
“Well, I hate to do this to you, honey,” she said lightly. “But I could really use your help this morning.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“Sullivan is back at it again. He had the cops over here this morning for another headcount of the dogs. We’re two over, thanks to an overnight drop-off.”
What a bastard. That was the second time in two weeks that he came barreling in with the cops. “He’s really trying to shut us down, isn’t he?”
“He is, but I don’t want you to worry about that. This is my job, Jenna. You’ve already done so much, I don’t want you to stress. But I could use your help to watch over the place for a few hours while I take care of this.”
I couldn’t tell her about my plan or Tristan’s help yet. As much as I believed in Tris, I hadn’t had my share of good luck, so I wouldn’t say a word until I knew that it was going to work. Either way, we had to stay off Sullivan’s radar.
He must’ve been getting desperate for the block of land. He made complaints to the cops about noise, overcapacity, the building’s appearance, and even once accused Gloria of mishandling the animals. That’s what really pissed me off. It’s not like she was getting rich running an animal shelter, and to accuse her of something like that had crossed so many lines.
“Of course I’ll be there, Gloria.” I chugged my coffee down and started gathering my things. “Let me get the dogs out for a quick walk, and I’ll be over as soon as I can.”
I slipped into my yoga pants and a T-shirt and gathered up everything I would need for the morning. I just had to get these guys out before I left. They’d be okay in their bedrooms for a few hours while I was gone. That’s the thing about these dogs, as long as you spent the time to train them, they were the perfect housemates. I’ve never had any trouble with these three. I was almost tempted to keep them all.
Securing the little ones on their chains, I grabbed Oscar’s leash and opened the door. But then the phone rang again, so I brought them back in with me and answered the call.
It was Gloria, reminding me to bring a lunch in case her meeting went over. By the time I went back to the door, Oscar had decided it was time for him to go. He’d already taken off down the hall. That’s okay, he was probably just waiting by the door for us like he usually did. He tended to operate on his own timeframe.
But when we made our way to the front door, it was propped wide open. Panic sliced through me. It’s not like there were busy roads nearby, but Oscar did love to run and I wasn’t sure how far I could trust him. With the two other dogs at my side, their leashes firmly wrapped in my hands, we went running to look for him.
“Oscar, Oscar!” I called out, hoping he was around the corner. He wasn’t. My eyes scoured the area, looking for my tan-and-black furball. If anything happened to him I would never forgive myself.
I looked across the courtyard, in the streets, and even the trees. Why was I looking in the trees? I didn’t see him. The three of us ran across the street to the grassy area. I didn’t know where I was going, but I would find Oscar. Or Molly and Ruby would.
That was a good idea. I let them take
the lead, weaving us through the trees, across the walking path, and sure enough, they did their job.
My eyes locked in on my beloved.
I’ve had him for almost two years now. He was a puppy when he was left at the shelter and in terrible shape. But all he needed was a little love to bring him around. We understood each other, and it was no surprise to anyone who worked with us—the puppy was coming home with me.
I wanted to name him after my brother Ben, but that was a little morbid. So I settled on one of Ben’s favorite characters when we were kids. Oscar the Grouch.
Strange how it all worked out. My job at the shelter had been a temporary gig for me—providing some extra college credits that I desperately needed. Now, it’d become the biggest part of my life.
I held up my hand, telling Oscar to stay as we quickly approached. He had a big smile on his face, panting away. Relief washed over me. Well, it did before the mortification had hit. Because before I could stop him, he lifted is hind leg…and started peeing on the two-legged man next to him.
Reluctantly, I let my gaze climb up those two legs, now soaked in my dog’s urine, over a set of nice, trim hips, and on up to what looked to be flat abs and broad chest underneath a gray T-shirt. What was he doing wearing a T-shirt in this weather? Brrr. As I continued my visual ascent, I braced myself for one very pissed off facial expression, literally. But when I got there, that face wasn’t pissed off at all. The guy had his head tipped back, and he was laughing.
Whoa.
Seeing Oscar’s savior took the wind right out of me. Seriously. Forget the images of hot guys holding babies, hot men with dogs were so much better. My ovaries cried. My stomach dropped. My freaking nipples pinched.
But when he met my eyes, disappointment knifed me in the gut.
2
Michael
“You didn’t have to leave, you know,” Tabby said for the fiftieth time as I pulled the moving van into my new apartment parking lot. God, it felt good to be on my own again. Not to diss my stepsister or anything, but it was past time I moved out of her place.
“No offense, but I can’t handle much more PDA,” I teased her, putting the van in park. “You and Noah with all of your touching and feeling. And then there’s that mushy talk that you do, like this morning when you told him you wanted to butter his biscuits and have them for breakfast.” I winced.
“Oh, my God.” She smacked me on the arm. “I was seriously talking about biscuits, you tool. He brought them over for dinner last night, and I wanted to re-heat them.”
“Likely story.”
Another smack.
I smiled. The sting of her hand on my skin was a welcome reminder of the progress she’d made. Yep, I’d take those girly slaps from Tabby just to hear her laugh, because damn, there was a time when I thought the day would never come.
“Regardless,” I told her. “I’m a third wheel, and frankly, it’s making me feel a bit inadequate.” That part had some truth to it. Eating breakfast with my little sister and her boyfriend every morning was pretty pitiful. Though the past six months did give me the chance to see that she was really okay, and I was grateful for that. Not to mention the reprieve she gave me from my Dad and her mom—the happy couple who married when Tab and I were in high school. Going back to live with them when I decided to change universities was one of the darkest times of my life.
Twenty-two and living with your parents? Fucking tragic.
“Don’t give me that I feel inadequate B.S.,” Tabby huffed. “I’ve seen the way the girls look at you on campus. But the real question is, why haven’t you been paying attention?”
What a loaded question that was, also one I wasn’t going to touch today. Nah, this day was about new beginnings and finally having my shit together. It was about being happy, excited even, for the future. Not about what I was missing.
“Right now all I have time for is school and my internship. I need to focus.”
“Sorry,” she said in a whisper that pissed me right off. She had nothing to be sorry for. “I know how hard you’ve had to work to catch up with school.”
“Hey, I’m the one who’s sorry, T-bear. And don’t you forget it.”
My face soured. Tabby blamed herself when I dropped out of school, and it killed me that she believed she was the cause. I was the problem, not her. Our hometown university brought out the worst in me. I was a complete asshole, hanging around the wrong crowd. Tabby learned about that group the hard way, after one of the guys (and Tabby’s supposed-boyfriend at the time) roofied her at a party. What happened after was even worse. It’s something I try not to think about.
Tabby’s life on campus in the months that followed was unbearable. Still, it took me so long to see the damage that’d been done to her. When I finally did pull my head out, I tried to redeem myself and get justice for what had happened, and I did everything I could to protect her. But it’d been too late; she was completely broken. I’ve replayed those days over and over in my head, wondering if I’d stepped up sooner if I could’ve prevented the worst of it for Tab. Or, if I’d been paying attention, maybe I could’ve stopped the whole thing.
“Don’t you go there, Michael Nelson,” Tabby said, using her sisterly tone with me. Even though we weren’t family by blood, you’d never know it. We’d become about as close as siblings could be. Shit, she felt more like my blood than my own father. But that was an entirely different story. It’s why I followed Tabby to Minneapolis. I wanted to start over, and maybe, to look after her a little bit.
Though she was fine now, better than fine. I knew she didn’t feel like she could say the same about me. I didn’t really have a social life to speak of, other than hanging out with her friends. I didn’t date, and I pretty much kept to myself. I considered it a penance of sorts.
After the assault—something our parents still could not say, they tended to use words like incident and situation—our family’s reputation had been pulled through the mud. In the end, I had to leave Illinois as well. I spent a gap year fucking around before my head was ready to get back in the game. But, if I’m honest, what happened to Tab wasn’t the only reason for my poor performance at school. Dad had plans for me, he always had. And it took me a few years before I had the guts to tell him no, I’d not be following in his business footsteps.
When you watch someone you love go through the kind of trauma Tabby went through, it really put things into perspective. And I didn’t want to spend my life beholden to my dad doing something I had absolutely no interest in.
No, I had bigger plans—a career that could actually help people. And this time, I was going to do it my way, which meant no distractions. There’d be time for that later, once I was settled.
When I started at the U, I was months behind in college, so I had to double up on my studies. It was a pride thing at this point and I wanted to graduate on time. And if all went as planned, Tabby and I would both being donning a cap and gown this coming spring—only a few months away.
“I’m going to miss living with you.” Tab’s voice shook a little when she spoke. God, it tore me up when she did that.
“Well, I’m only a few miles away,” I reminded her. “It’ll be good for both of us. I feel like you and Noah are moving to the next level and I don’t want to stand in your way.”
She beamed at that comment. Those two were made for each other, and though I tried not to be petty, it reminded me of what I’d never had. Of course, that was my own fault. I never went for the right kind of girl. I hoped one day, when it was time, all of that would change.
I jumped out of the vehicle and opened the back of the moving truck. Noah and Foster (Tab’s best friend’s boyfriend) helped me get the big things in yesterday, but then we got sidetracked with a new burger place that opened up down the road. Foster was a chef and obsessed with checking out the competition, so after two trips of hauling furniture up to my apartment, he convinced us to take a break. And a pitcher of beer and an enormous burger later, we were done
with moving.
“There’s still a lot of stuff here,” Tabby said, confused. “I don’t know why you couldn’t have waited for Noah and Foster to help finish up. Are we all really that annoying to you that you couldn’t wait to leave?”
I raised a brow, and received my third smack of the day. Really, it wasn’t that I didn’t like the happy four-some—Tabby and Noah, and Jules and Foster. They were all really cool and had become my friends too, but it was bad enough being a third-wheel. Fifth-wheel was excruciating.
“You know I love all of you,” I cushioned the blow, “but I’m ready to be out on my own, you know? It’s time, Tab. And don’t worry about all the stuff, I can get most of it.”
I passed my sister the light boxes and she propped the doors open as I hauled up my recliner. It was the last of the heavy stuff. The rest was just cumbersome boxes and crap.
It was a nice place, a small complex that was more brownstone than college apartment. Yet the welcome wasn’t all that impressive. Once we got up to my place, I couldn’t help but notice what sounded like a dog pound across the hall. This wouldn’t be good for my twelve-hour studying stints. Still, anything had to be better than all the damn sexual tension surrounding Tab and Noah, for fuck’s sake.
“Are you sure this is where you want to be?” Tab asked, nodding to the barking apartment once we made our final trip with the boxes.
“It’ll be fine, plus, I like dogs,” I said, not remembering anything about pets in the paperwork I filled out for my landlord. “Okay, so we’re good to go. Thanks for your help, now let me get you back to the honeymoon suites.” I wasn’t subtle in my effort to have some quiet time, but it didn’t faze Tab.
“You can make fun all you want, but I know you’re going to miss me.” She brushed past me and started unpacking the boxes in my kitchen. My kitchen. I liked the sound of it.