Undeniably Yours

by Jerry Cole

  Marcelo stopped talking and bowed his head. It took me a moment to realize that he was actually choked up. The tears, I understood, weren’t for the horrible cat in the pretty box. They were for the woman who loved her. They were for Ariana, a face I only ever really knew from photos. All of those years together and I’d never once even thought about meeting his family.

  “I don’t know if there is kitty heaven, but if there is I hope you make it there, old girl.”

  I took the box from Marcelo and got ready to drop it in the hole when the sound of dogs barking brought me up short. I looked up in time to see two rather large pit bulls bounding over the ridge and heading straight toward us. I looked around for any sign of an owner, or somebody who might be able to wrangle the two mutts but nobody appeared.

  I stepped in front of Marcelo and braced myself for impact as the larger of the two animals charged at me. I closed my eyes and turned my head as he jumped at me, his jaws open to expose a mouth full of pearly white, sharp teeth. The impact sent me to the ground, where I fully expected to have to fight for my life. I was pleasantly surprised when, instead of a giant, snarling creature perched on my chest trying to eat my face off, I received a few emphatic licks to my face.

  When I opened my eyes the smaller of the two dogs was sitting beside me, licking my face and looking very worried. I looked up at Marcelo who seemed unharmed but looked worried, nonetheless.

  “The cat,” he said with a haunted look in his eyes.

  “What cat?”

  “GINGER!”

  I looked down at my hands that had, until that moment, been holding a wooden box with a very dead cat inside. Only now did I realize that the box had somehow come open and the very dead cat was gone. As too was the giant dog that had pushed me to the ground.

  “Oh shit,” I spat, rolling to my feet.

  I was trying to think of what my next move should be when I heard a familiar voice call from over the ridge. I stood frozen as I tried to decide if this was a fortuitous turn of events or another one of life’s little cluster fucks.

  “Shaolin!”

  Over the ridge came Josh, looking as hale and hearty as ever.

  “Oh, so you’re the owner of that monster,” I called out.

  “Which way did he go?”

  “I couldn’t tell you. He attacked me and then made off before I could even get a good look at him,” I said.

  “He went that way,” Marcelo said, pointing in the right direction. “He has a dead cat we were trying to bury, so if you could bring that back as well…”

  “Got it,” Josh nodded curtly as if he was receiving orders from his commanding officer. He turned to face the direction the dog had run in and took off. I looked down at the dog that had been licking my face.

  “Hey! What about this one here?”

  “Friendly, come here, girl,” called another voice. The dog let out a little yip and then went running back toward a man I recognized as Josh’s new lover, Ian.

  “Oh great,” I grumbled.

  “I’m sorry, did she startle you? We didn’t expect there to be anybody out here,” he called as he got closer. The dog walked close to his left leg, where her leash hung from Ian’s hand. He made no move to put it on her but he seemed to be completely comfortable with her off-leash.

  “No, she’s a peach,” I said.

  “Yeah, Shaolin still needs a little work on his recall. I think he just likes to make Josh run,” Ian said, his hair dipping into his face and hiding his eyes. Despite the fact that he was nearly thirty, he still looked like he was a college student. Mostly it was his fashion choices. His faded jeans, dirty sneakers, oversized sweaters, and shaggy hair screamed: “freshman year, English lit”.

  “He stole my cat,” Marcelo said.

  “What?”

  “She was already dead. We were burying her but he stole her,” I held up the empty box that would have been her coffin for Ian to see.

  “Well, it looks like you’re going to get her back.”

  I turned around just in time to see the big dog zoom back in my direction with the cat carcass in its teeth. I planted my feet and squatted, putting to use the three years of horseback riding lessons I’d endured as a kid. My plan? I was going to snag that cat out of the dog’s jaws as he passed me. It seemed simple enough. I had to outweigh the animal by at least forty pounds and with my trusty opposable thumbs, I was sure that evolution had given me the upper hand when it came to grabbing and holding on to things.

  I was wrong.

  Shaolin ran right up to me and, sensing what my next move would be, made a sharp right turn and ran in a circle around me. On his next pass he ran until he was just outside of my grasp and stopped, the dead cat still in his mouth and his tail dancing in the air behind him like a snake charmer’s flute.

  “Come on, boy. Give me the cat,” I said.

  As soon as I reached out for it he darted off, this time to the left, and ran another large circle around me.

  “I don’t know what’s gotten into him today. He’s usually so well behaved,” said Ian, laughing at the giant dog’s antics.

  I was not amused. Once again I looked like a fool, being yanked around by a slobbering mutt. I was sweaty, dirty, red-faced, and now, a dog was outwitting me. Josh finally made his appearance, walking with his head down, looking thoroughly defeated.

  “Just let him run, I can’t catch him,” he yelled.

  “He’s got my cat!” Marcelo pointed to the dog.

  “He’ll drop it. Just ignore him and walk away. Once he realizes you’re not interested, he’ll lose interest as well,” Josh said.

  “What if he rips it to shreds? Or eats it?” I was a little sick to my stomach just thinking about it. We’d put the cat on ice, so it hadn’t decomposed yet but having it in the dog’s mouth couldn’t be good for anybody.

  “What? Are you afraid he’ll hurt her?” Marcelo teased. The three of them began to laugh and the sound distracted the dog. I took advantage of the moment and grabbed the dead cat by the front paws and ripped it out of his jaws. The dog jumped at me, his jaws snapping together in an attempt to wrestle it back from me. I stumbled back several steps but kept it out of his reach.

  “That’s enough,” Josh scolded the dog, but Shaolin didn’t seem to agree with him. He lunged forward again, trying to grab it out of my hands.

  I felt my foot slip into the tiny hole I’d carved out in the hard, rocky dirt thirty minutes ago. I lost my balance and I knew that Shaolin would take advantage of the moment, so I twisted as I fell to the ground, sticking my hip out to keep him away from the carcass. Just as I predicted, he lunged, jaws snapping and I snatched the dead cat away from his mouth and presented him with my ass instead.

  What I hadn’t predicted was how fast and sharp a dog bite could be. It was obvious that I wasn’t the target. As soon as I yelped in pain, the dog backed away, making no attempt to regain possession of the cat or jump on me. I was now on the ground, the cat beside me, with a tiny rip in the seat of my pants where an overzealous dog had just bitten me. Could this afternoon get any more humiliating?

  Chapter Nine

  The answer was yes. Yes, it could. And it began with having to watch my ex and his new lover give the fucking cat the kind of dignified and somber burial that I hadn’t been able to pull off without humiliating myself.

  Josh even took off his shirt and handed it to his new lover while he quickly, and neatly refilled the hole and tamped down the dirt. It occurred to me how much he had in common with Marcelo. I mean more than just the well-sculpted chest, tanned skin, and flex that wasn’t a flex (which paradoxically made it the BEST kind of flex). I was always the kind who said I didn’t have a “type”. My sexual history was pretty much a testament to that fact. But, it seemed that when my heart was involved, I definitely had my preferences.

  Both men were good guys. They were kind and honest and attentive. And neither one of them was above getting their hands dirty if necessary. When something needed to be
done they didn’t bitch about whose responsibility it was or look for somebody to do it for them, they just got it done. They were blue-collar guys even if Marcelo’s work didn’t technically involve any manual labor. My father would be horrified, which made them all the more attractive to me.

  “We should get that looked at. Shaolin is healthy but you don’t want to develop an infection,” Ian said, crouching down at my side.

  “Idiot. Don’t you know you should never admit to a fault at the scene of an accident?” I rubbed my sore behind.

  “He’s not an idiot, he’s just not an asshole,” Josh growled at me.

  “We won’t sue,” Marcelo said. I shot him a dirty look and he returned fire. I tried to hold my ground in this silent war of dueling eyebrows and bitch-faced expressions, but I lost in the end. The only way to win would have been to remind him that I was, at least for a few days, still his boss. Something told me that wouldn’t help my case at all, so I gave up.

  Apparently we weren’t going to sue.

  “We can’t go to the hospital, then,” I explained. “If my father catches wind of this, he’ll file a suit on my behalf.”

  “Well, we need to patch you up at least,” Ian looked at Josh with soft, pleading eyes. He was genuinely concerned.

  “I have a big first aid kit at home and a lot of medical supplies,” Marcelo said. “I have a lot of general antibiotics and painkillers as well.”

  He looked sad again as he spoke, but he didn’t divert his eyes the way you’d expect. He was sad but he wasn’t trying to escape it. It looked like he’d just learned to accept the sadness as part of life. It made me feel like an even bigger ass.

  “Fine. Let’s go to your house,” I grumbled, standing up gingerly. My ass hurt with every step I took, but I supposed I should be grateful that the dog hadn’t decided to take a chunk out of me. He certainly had the jaws to accomplish the feat.

  “Can you drive like that?” Marcelo looked doubtful.

  “I’ll be fine,” I said.

  “Like hell,” Josh said, blowing air out of his nose and putting his hand out. I looked at his outstretched palm but didn’t say anything. If he thought I was going to give him my keys and let him drive me he was insane.

  Marcelo fished the keys out of my pocket and handed them over to Josh, making the decision final. Everybody seemed to be in agreement except me. We climbed into the Hummer and drove back to Marcelo’s house in almost complete silence. I say almost because Ian didn’t say much but stroked the two dogs almost compulsively all the way there and Marcelo took it upon himself to give Josh directions. But, nobody said a word to me.

  I caught a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror. I looked pathetic. I was a dirty, sweaty mess. I was pouting like a small, disgruntled kid, and the more I thought about it, the worse it became. I turned my eyes toward the window in disgust and tried not to think about the throbbing in my ass.

  We got back to Marcelo’s house and Josh helped him out of the car. Ian led the dogs to the back yard and prepared dishes of water and leftovers from the fridge for the two slobbering mutts. The three of them barely looked at me as I limped into the house and struggled to take my shoes off. I watched the unlikely trio doing a domestic dance as if it were the most natural thing in the world and I couldn’t help but feel further away from my goal than I had been in the morning.

  Not only had I ruined my own image but I had introduced Marcelo to my gorgeous ex and his too cute to live boyfriend. The worst part was that they were getting along, especially Ian. I watched silently as Marcelo, despite his injury, attempted to help Ian as he moved around the house collecting supplies to bandage the puncture wounds in my butt.

  “What are you glaring at?” Josh said softly.

  I looked up to see him standing over me, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes locked in an icy stare. Whatever he imagined I was thinking had obviously pissed him off.

  “Your boy and my assistant seem to get along well. You’d better hold on to him tight,” I said slyly.

  “Assistant? Yeah, right.”

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” I said, adjusting so that it would be easier to cut open my pants.

  “I don’t need warnings. I don’t know what you think is happening over there, but what I see is two guys who’ve had some serious challenges working together to help a guy whose biggest challenge is himself,” he said.

  I swallowed hard. He was right. When I stopped being a petty bitch it was pretty obvious that Ian was uncomfortable and Marcelo, bless him, was trying to be comforting. Still, I hated the way he looked at Ian. I hated the way he stood close to him with his body bent slightly as if trying to shield him from an invisible force. I hated the fact that the only two men who I’d ever felt anything for were both drawn in by this broken man-child.

  “Okay,” Ian came over to where I was half reclining and held up a pair of scissors. “Let's get started.”

  The next twenty minutes were a hodge-podge of pain in various degrees. The wound was irrigated and disinfected. Ian decided against stitches since the flesh wasn’t torn or punctured too deeply.

  “It will hurt, but you’ll bounce back,” he said.

  Marcelo stood over his shoulder the whole time, looking down at me as I tried to hold back my yelps and whimpers. Every time I would flinch he would shoot daggers from his eyes. When the poking and prodding got to be too much and I was inclined to let loose with a mouth full of profanity he dared me to open my mouth with nothing more than a glance. I was his bitch and he knew it. How come I was just now finding out?

  When it was all said and done, Marcelo was kind enough to give me a sedative.

  “This will make the pain go away, and it will probably put you out for a few hours,” he said. He handed me the pills and waited until he was sure I was resting comfortably before he turned and rolled away.

  “We’ll hang around for a little while, just in case,” Josh said. Marcelo nodded in agreement and left the room. I watched as Josh found the remote control for the television and found a news channel. He sat at the far end of the sofa and watched in silence. After a few minutes, Ian came in, pressed his fingers to my forehead, and then turned to Josh looking relieved.

  A few words passed between them, leaving Josh looking very smitten and slightly breathless. I couldn’t hear anything they said but I assumed it was something cute and private. The kind of thing that people in love say to each other in private conversations. Ian left the room as well, leaving just Josh and me and the dull drone of the newscaster in the room.

  “Why do you all like him more than me?”

  I honestly hadn’t meant to say that out loud. The pills were working their magic and I was becoming loose-lipped. Normally I would’ve retracted the statement and covered it all over with some snarky sarcasm. But, since I was feeling pretty numb anyway, I let the question sit out there.

  “Who?”

  “Ian.”

  Josh coughed up a laugh and muted the television.

  “Do you really want to do this now?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Neither do I. Just let it go, man? Once the pills kick in we’re out of here anyway.”

  I rolled onto my side and closed my eyes, but my mind was running a mile a minute. Once upon a time, I would have done almost anything to be this close to Josh again. I used to fantasize about showing up in his life and sweeping him off of his feet, forcing him to love me again. Of course, in those fantasies, I was taller and more muscular and less pale than I am in real life. I devoted months, maybe years, to fantasies of being with him again and finally having the chance to make it right between us. But in the end, he never came back. It took his father’s cancer to bring him back to town. And by that time his hatred of me had cured and fermented until it was part of his bones. And he had Ian, and broken or not, even I knew that Ian was way better than me.

  When I woke up, I expected to be alone. Instead, Ian was sitting close to me, stroking his dog.

&nb
sp; “What are you still doing here,” I grumbled. He didn’t seem to care.

  “I couldn’t leave until I was sure you would be okay, and then Marcelo ordered dinner as a thank you,” Ian said.

  “Oh? Did you guys eat already?”

  “No, we were waiting for you to wake up.”

  “You were?”

  I sounded like an idiot and I probably looked like one as well. Somebody had thrown a blanket over me when I was asleep and it was now tangled around my hips and thighs. I was on the verge of tears and I had no idea why. My hair must have been in a disarray and my face was swollen from sleep. To top it all off I knew I was turning a lovely shade of red, partly because I’d spent too much time in the sun and partly because I always turned red when I cried.

  Always.

  Ian looked shocked for a moment, and his grip on his dog tightened slightly. We sat there, face to face, as we both tried to make sense of this strange turn of events.

  “I’m guessing that doesn’t happen a lot to you,” he said.

  “What? Making everybody wait for me? Nah, I manage to hold everybody up all the time. It’s one of my talents.”

  Ian smiled at that, but I only wished I were joking. I was constantly causing Marcelo to make excuses for my tardiness, or keeping my parents from arriving on time, or generally getting in the way. Most people thought it was because I was a brat who had no respect for other people’s time. Maybe they were right, although it didn’t feel that way. It felt like I was constantly running behind the eight ball in life. It felt like everybody was constantly running away, trying to get someplace or be with somebody who wasn’t me. But what the hell did I know? When you’re a Dunlevy you can make people wait for you. And they did, grumbling the whole time, but they still waited.

  “Is that true?”

  “Everything you’ve heard about me is true. I don’t have to lie about who I am.”