“I think that’s a fairly accurate description.” Michael finishes with the other dog, and lowers him to the floor. “I think you’ve got yourself a good home now, my friend,” he says as he scratches him under his chin. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help,” Michael offers.
“Thank you.” I’ve attached Zhen’s lead to the other dog, and Zhen’s walking beside me without one. We head out, and I pay for the second vet visit.
I get both dogs in the car, and head home.
On the drive home, I go over the conversation with my Mom in my head. I try and get every possible combination of answers for why we should keep the dog.
I drive through the gates, up the rounded driveway, and park under the four-car carport on the side of the two-car garage.
Opening the back door, Zhen jumps out first, and runs to one of the poles holding the carport up. The other dog does the same thing. Zhen sniffs, lifts his leg, and pees. The other dog waits until Zhen is finished, then does the same thing. “There’s another three poles. You don’t have to wait. And look, there are shrubs and trees everywhere.”
I head in, with both dogs following closely behind. Opening the door, I listen for where Mom is. I can’t hear her. “Mom!” I call.
“Bathroom,” she shouts. Judging by where her voice came from, she’s in the bathroom down stairs between the guest room and the den.
I walk into the large, bright kitchen, and get some dog food out. Placing it on the floor, the new dog pounces on it, like he hasn’t seen food in days. He probably hasn’t. Zhen stands beside me, watching the newcomer.
“Honey, your ho…who do we have here?” Mom asks as she enters the kitchen.
“Well, it’s a bit of a long story.” I proceed to tell her the whole thing while I pour myself some water.
Mom sits on one of the dining room chairs as she keeps looking over to the dog, then back to me. She places her hand to her chest, as I continue to tell her about what happened. Her shoulders slump forward, and she shakes her head. “What did Michael say when you took him to the vet?”
I continue to fill her in. “So now, we have to make a decision as to what we’re going to do with him,” I say.
“What?” Mom turns her head, her top lip turned up in a semi-scowl. I’m not sure if she’s mad, or angry or something else. “We’re going to keep him.” She stands and walks out of the kitchen, only to return a few seconds later with her phone. “I’ll call Izzy the dog washer, and get her to come wash both Zhen and him today.” She points to the dog who’s now lying on his stomach, his hind legs stretched out behind him. “What are you going to call him?”
“We can keep him?” I ask. I was ready to try to convince her why we shouldn’t surrender him.
“Look at him.” We both turn to see how comfortable he is in front of the large floor to ceiling glass doors overlooking our backyard. “Even if I wanted to get rid of him, which I don’t, he wouldn’t want to go.”
I run to Mom and throw my arms around her. “Thank you,” I say.
“He’s your responsibility though, Molly. You better come up with a name.” She flicks through her phone book, then brings her phone to her ear. “Izzy, it’s Paris Dawson.” She listens for a few seconds. “No, I know Zhen isn’t due yet. But Molly has brought home a stray, and he’s really hard on the nose. Any chance you can…” She listens for a few more seconds. “Five? Thank you, I owe you.” Mom hangs up.
“She’s coming today?”
“Five o’clock.”
“Wow.” I lean against the kitchen counter, and think about the bunny rabbit. “Mom, I have a question for you.”
“What is it?”
“When I came to live with you and Dad, did I have a stuffed bunny rabbit?”
Mom’s shoulders stiffen. She visibly swallows. “You came to us with the clothes you were wearing, and a small bag with a few articles of clothing,” she says. Mom’s told me little bits and pieces, but nothing substantial.
“I know you’ve told me you didn’t know a lot about my life before I came to you, but do you know anything about it at all?”
“Only what we’ve told you, sweetie. You came from a broken home, your birth mother wasn’t on the scene, and you lived with your father. Authorities were called when the neighbor heard you crying. You’d been left alone in the house.” I nod my head. This stuff I’ve heard before. “Why, what’s bothering you?”
“Something happened today, and I don’t know what it means.”
“The guy at the dog park?”
I nod. “When I saw him hit his dog, I stood up to go and confront him, but I just got this vivid picture of a mangy stuffed rabbit. It’s like I had a connection to it, but I have no idea from where or how. It made me feel uneasy. My stomach churned, and it was like a warning or something. I was hoping you’d be able to tell me if I came to you with a white rabbit. It had big, floppy ears. It was supposed to be white, but it was discolored.” Mom’s shaking her head. “Nothing?” I’m desperate to try and find out about this bunny.
“No, I’m sorry. I can tell you about Tina’s adoption though. But that’s not useful considering your birthparents are different.”
“Okay, well…I don’t know.” I shrug. “I wish I knew what this rabbit meant.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”
I walk over to Mom, and give her a kiss on the cheek. “That’s okay. I’m going to head up so I can do some research on dog names.”
“Okay. Izzy will be here at five. We’ll get both dogs washed. I’ll call you down when she arrives.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I head out of the kitchen, both dogs right behind me. I take the steps two at a time and get to my room quickly. Again, both dogs right by my side. “Right, let’s find a name for you.” I sniff, and get a waft of the dog. “Stinky wouldn’t be nice, would it, boy?” I pet him. Zhen lays beside me.
Opening my laptop, I search dog names for courageous males.
“Zhen, Zorro,” I call both boys. They’re outside, playing in the backyard. Both ignore me. “Dinner,” I say, louder. Just like magic, they stop playing and run toward me. “So you come when I say dinner? Traitors.” I run my nails through Zhen’s short hair, then pet Zorro.
“He needs fattening up,” Dad says as we sit at the dinner table.
“Yeah, Michael said he’s underweight.”
“You can see it,” Dad says. “He’s a good dog, though. I’m surprised he’s as well behaved as what he is. Especially if he came from a home where he was abused. I’m really surprised he’s not cowering every time we put our hands down to pet him.”
“He probably feels comfortable around us,” I answer. “Even Tina likes him, and we both know she’s not a fan of animals.”
“Who’s not a fan of animals?” Tina asks as she comes in and sits beside me at the dinner table.
“You,” I answer.
“They’re alright.” She shrugs. “I mean, I wouldn’t ever purposely hurt an animal, but they’re not really my thing.” She reaches down to pet the dogs. Both clamber to stand beside her.
My phone vibrates on the kitchen counter, and I get up to see who it is. I smile like a goof, because it’s Dylan. He hasn’t messaged me since our birthday a few nights ago.
I haven’t heard from you, are you okay?
Yeah, I am. Eventful couple of days.
You can tell me all about it over dinner, tomorrow night.
Maybe I don’t want to go out with you. I jokingly tease.
Now that’s a load of BS. Of course, you want to go to dinner with me. I’m funny, and charming, and my father really likes you. It’s a no brainer.
I look at my phone, and chuckle.
“Oh, someone’s made Molly happy. Is it the boy from the restaurant?” Mom asks.
“Yeah, it is. He’s asking me to dinner tomorrow night. I’m not sure if I should go.”
“Why not?” Mom asks.
“Let the girl be, she doesn’t need to date,” Dad chides
her.
“Dad, you’re being overprotective,” Tina responds.
“We don’t need two teenage girls dating.” He pointedly looks at Tina then me.
“It’s just dinner, Thomas,” Mom says.
“Are you done discussing if I should or shouldn’t go?” I look to the three of them.
Dad makes a grumbling sound. Mom and Tina both smile. “I think you should go, it’s only dinner. Not sex, or marriage,” Tina says.
“Hey, I don’t want to hear about that,” Dad says.
Mom’s holding in a smile. Tina rolls her eyes and shakes her head. She reaches for another slice of pizza.
“Do you think I should go?” I ask all of my family.
“No,” Dad responds with conviction.
“Yeah,” Mom and Tina reply together.
A small smile tugs at my lips. Dad’s reaction is exactly what I thought it would be. “It’s just dinner,” I say trying to justify it, more to myself than to Dad.
“Yeah, and make him pay,” Tina says.
“No, these days you go halves,” Mom protests.
“If you’re going out with him, you make him pay,” Dad chimes in, having lost his earlier fight.
I stare at the message and try to think of what I can say. Seeing as your Dad likes me, then I’d better let you take me to dinner.
I smile. Then add, I’m only doing it for your dad. As a favor to him.
I place my phone face down on the table, and sit back. “Okay, I’m going out on a date with Dylan tomorrow.”
“When do we get to meet him?” Dad asks.
“Maybe never. I don’t know. We’ll go for dinner tomorrow, and I’ll see how things turn out.”
Dad points at me with his slice of pizza. “No funny business.”
“No funny business,” I echo. “Trust me.”
“It’s not you I’m worried about. How old is Dylan?”
“We’ve gone over this. No idea,” I candidly answer. “I assume he’s at least twenty-five judging by the way he acted when I first met him.”
Dad grumbles. “If he hurts you, I’ll end his life.”
Aww, I think every father has said that to his daughter at least once in their life. Dad says it to Tina every time she finds a new boyfriend. Usually it’s Tina who ends up doing the hurting.
My phone vibrates again, but I don’t rush to get it. Dylan can wait. Family dinner is way more important than setting up a date.
“Hey, Tina, what are you doing?”
“Listening to music. You okay?” She sits up on her bed, crossing her legs. “You look worried.”
“I’m kinda second guessing myself about tomorrow night.”
“Your date?” I nod. “What’s the problem?”
“You know I’m not like you, right?” I sit on her bed, Zhen lays beside me. Zorro is nowhere to be seen. He’s taken a liking to Dad, so he tends to be where Dad is when he’s home.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, we’re complete opposites. You’re so bubbly and outgoing, and I’m really not. I’m nothing like you.”
“So? What are you getting at?” She shrugs one shoulder.
I wring my hands nervously. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to talk to him. Or what to talk about. What if he wants to try something, you know?”
“Like a kiss? Or something more?”
“I’m not having sex with him. If he thinks he can try that on me, then it’s not happening.” My stomach jumps with uncertainty. Sex isn’t something I’ve ever really wanted to do. Well, not yet.
“Listen, you’re meeting him there, right?”
“Yeah, he said he’d pick me up, but I don’t want him knowing where I live. Not yet. You know he might turn into some crazy-ass stalker guy.” Tina laughs. “What?”
“Not everyone is nuts. But he might be.”
I throw a pillow at her. “Why, ‘cause he asked me out?”
“You’re such a dork. If he makes you feel uncomfortable, text me, and I’ll be right there. Actually, I can come along if it makes you feel better.”
I let out a laugh. “Yeah, good thinking. No!”
“How about I meet up with Preston at one of the cafés close to where you’re having dinner? If anything happens, then I’m close.”
Just the thought of having Tina nearby eases my shaky thoughts and feelings. “I don’t want to put you out. Don’t worry about it.” I feel like I’m a burden to her.
“Don’t be a dumb-ass, Molly. You’d do it for me, wouldn’t you?”
“In a heartbeat,” I answer candidly.
“Good, ‘cause that means I get to go out with Preston again. I really like him,” Tina says. She runs her hands through her hair, then twirls some around her finger. I’ve never seen her so hung-up on anyone.
“Then you should go for it. When do I get to meet him?”
“How about we double-date?”
“Not tomorrow?” I ask a little too forcefully.
“No, not tomorrow. What about Sunday? If it all works out for you and what’s-his-face, then you can ask him if he wants to double-date with Preston and me.”
“Dylan.” I tilt my head as my brows arch.
“Yeah, yeah, him. What do you think? I can suss Dylan out, and you can suss Preston out. Then we can compare notes.”
“Yeah, that’ll be cool. Thank you.” I lean over and give her a hug. “I’m going to bed, I’m so tired.”
“It’s nine o’clock. Since when have you become a grandma?”
“I’m not a grandma. I think the last couple of days have really caught up with me. You know the guy at the park, our birthday. All of that.”
“Night, stinky butt.”
“Really?” I say as I turn to look at Tina before I leave her room. “Stinky butt?”
“I was referring to the dog,” she teases.
“No, you weren’t.”
“No, I wasn’t,” she giggles at the same time.
Zhen and I head back to my room. I take a quick shower, get changed into my pajamas, and crawl into bed. Zhen’s already asleep on my bed by the time I’m in. I grab my Air Pods, and turn on my meditation music. It doesn’t take me long before I’m sound asleep.
Walking into the restaurant, I half expect for Dylan to not be here. We decided to meet at Cracker Barrel, a popular restaurant where there are always a few people. You can never be too safe.
I head inside, and look around for Dylan.
“Table for one?” the woman at the front asks.
“No, I’m meeting someone. For two, please.”
She picks up two menus, and I follow her while keeping an eye out in case Dylan’s already here. I should’ve told him I’d meet him outside.
A few moments pass, and I begin to worry when he doesn’t arrive. I check the time on my phone, and frown. He’s only five minutes late, I say to myself.
Tapping my fingers, I look around Cracker Barrel. There are families and couples all sitting and enjoying their meals. I feel self-conscious being the only person sitting on their own.
I check my phone again. He’s ten minutes late.
It makes me feel better to know Tina and Preston are only a couple of streets away and can be here in a moment.
Rejection takes over from the worry, and I’m feeling hurt and abandoned. I wish Zhen was here with me. He’d put his head on my lap, and the hurt would instantly melt away.
Twelve minutes late.
I’m not going to sit here like a fool. I’ll give him three more minutes, and then I’ll delete his number and block his ass.
I look up and see Dylan standing at the hostess counter. He looks around, sees me, says something to the waitress, and walks toward me.
Right away I see a black smudge on his face. And then the same black is on the front of his jeans too.
I’m not sure what to think. Why’s he so dirty?
He approaches the table, sets his phone and car keys down on it and says, “I have to go to the bathroom. I’ll ex
plain when I get back. I’m so sorry I’m late.”
He doesn’t give me a chance to respond. He dashes off behind me, leaving only his belongings on the table. I don’t feel rejected now, but I have no idea what’s happening.
Am I being punked? I look around the restaurant in case I see a camera inconspicuously placed somewhere.
I look over the menu, but my mind is traveling so fast, I can’t concentrate on it. I’m in a whirlwind of emotions.
“I’m sorry,” Dylan says as he slides into the chair opposite me. His face now clear of the black smudge. “I was trying to get here earlier, so I’d be waiting for you. But on the way, my car had a flat tire and I had to change it.”
“Oh,” I say. “Explains the black marks down the front of your jeans.”
“I couldn’t go home to change. Well, I could, but you would’ve been sitting here for another fifteen minutes. And I didn’t want that.”
“Right.” I look down at the menu. I fidget with my hands under the table.
“I’m really happy you agreed to come to dinner with me.” I smile, but don’t say anything.
My stomach is going nuts, and my pulse is hammering through my veins. How awkward. I’m such a mess. I want to say something, but I have no idea what to say.
“Tell me about what’s been happening. Last night you said you’ve had an eventful few days. What’s happening?” he asks. “Other than your eighteenth birthday.” He says eighteenth in a strained way, almost like he’s embarrassed way.
“Okay, let’s do this,” I say. He looks at me questioningly. “You’re still hung up about my age. So, how old are you?”
He gives me a small smile. “I’ll be turning twenty-seven soon.”
“Ew,” I say and scrunch up my nose. “I really shouldn’t be having dinner with such an old man.”
“I’m not that old,” he snaps.
“Then why are you hell bent on having an issue with my age, when you just said, ‘I’m not that old’?”
“You know, you’re nothing like anyone I’ve ever met before, Molly.”
Echoes of You Page 7