To be loved by you, p.17
To Be Loved by You, page 17
“Do you mind watching both dogs a minute?” she asked, offering him the labradoodle’s leash. “If we’re heading into a public space, I shouldn’t walk in looking like I slept on a couch and haven’t since looked in a mirror.”
“You look phenomenal.” It was out before he even felt it on his tongue, and he could tell by the abrupt way she looked at him that his words ungrounded her as much as they did him. He was beginning to accept that no matter how many times he reminded himself she was here to teach his kids yoga, his body was going to be in competition for something else entirely. “I’ve got these two,” he added before too much of a delay had slipped in. “I’ll meet you out front when you’re ready. Take your time.”
“Sounds good.”
As she headed for the house, he asked her to grab the waste bags and Rolo’s leash from the coat closet while she was inside.
“Rolo on a leash…that’ll be a sight, but sure, I’ll grab them.”
“As you noticed, most of the time I don’t even put it on anymore, but there’s a chance he’ll behave differently with these two in the mix.” Just before Ava stepped inside, he added, “Oh, and my wallet, it’s on my dresser. Will you grab it too?”
“Sure thing, but that means I’m buying the next one.”
The next one. Surprisingly, all his conflicted parts seemed to be unanimously okay with this easily stated promise of the future.
Jeremy led the dogs around to the side of the neighboring garage, wondering if the mother cat was inside. The bowl of food they’d put out was empty, but that could be credited to a raccoon or possum who’d wandered into the yard to pilfer from the garden as they sometimes did. Not wanting to linger in case the cat was watching through the window from the safety of her box, he circled the garden before heading to the front gate.
The mama doodle took her time sniffing certain peaks and mounds as Jeremy urged her forward with one hand while bracing against the labradoodle’s sporadic pulling on the other. The excited dog kept forgetting he was tethered to a person and attempting to take off to investigate anything that interested him, most especially when he spotted a bumblebee buzzing between the clover buds.
“You’re better off leaving bees alone, big guy.” At the sound of Jeremy’s voice, Rolo stopped walking and looked over, ears pricked. “It’s all good, buddy.” Jeremy opened the front gate and let Rolo out ahead of the other two.
When Ava joined them a few minutes later, she passed him his wallet but draped Rolo’s leash across her shoulder. “My grandpa’s dogs are never on leashes, but he farms several hundred acres, so it’s not the same. Rolo has a thousand times more distractions.”
“It works in my favor that he’s compelled to stay in my line of sight.”
As they started down the sidewalk, Ava relieved Jeremy of the mama doodle without feeling the need to clarify it, and they fell into step as easily as they’d fallen into the routine of washing the dogs last Saturday, which Jeremy figured was another way his body was reminding him how they’d be great together.
“Did you ever find out anything about Rolo’s history before he was surrendered?”
Dog talk—here was something that came easily to both of them and filled the space of all the things his mind wanted to toss around that they could do in the space of a twenty-minute walk, given they had the inclination and a bit of privacy. “A little, and it wasn’t great. He and a handful of other dogs and one cat were brought in as part of a drug bust. Wherever it was he lived, they weren’t just selling, they were cooking too.”
Ava grimaced. “Meth?”
“Unfortunately. But the animals were kept outside, so they were spared a bit of the toxicity they could’ve been exposed to.”
Ava’s lower lip turned down in a pout. “People can really mess up, can’t they?”
“That they can.”
Rolo was keeping just ahead of the two leashed dogs on the narrow sidewalk, the same as if a leash were around his neck as well. As if sensing he was the center of attention, he glanced back and whined.
“I swear, everything about your dog makes me want to engulf him in a hug and give him a thousand kisses.”
For a split second, Jeremy envisioned being the recipient of that kind of affection from her, and his body responded with a strong enough “hell yes” that he needed to shift the labradoodle’s leash from one hand to the other in an attempt to refocus. “I can honestly say he doesn’t seem any the worse for wear now with the exception of hating being left alone.”
“Are you giving any thought to adopting one of the foster dogs—to help with that?”
“It’s crossed my mind, but when it comes time, I suspect I’ll have more kids vying to adopt them than dogs. Besides, I honestly think if Rolo had any say in the matter, his choice of a domestic companion would be of the feline variety.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever forget him finding that kitten—twice,” Ava said with a sigh.
“Why do I see myself ending up with a feral mama cat as a pet who dislikes people as much as Rolo dislikes being alone?”
“They’d be a pair, that’s for sure.” As they continued on, she brushed the tips of her fingers over his arm, nodding toward an incredibly put-together Victorian mansion they were passing. “Isn’t that one breathtaking?” She clicked her tongue in appreciation.
Jeremy agreed before pausing to redirect the labradoodle who nearly backflipped in excitement when a pair of old beagles passed on the opposite sidewalk. As they began walking again, Ava nudged Jeremy gently with her elbow. “Mind if I ask what happened in your marriage?” Her shoulders raised a touch as she said it, like a part of her was bracing for a “That’s none of your business” reply.
Her question stirred up the image that frequented his nightmares of Kristin’s car smashing into the median in the early-morning hours after a night spent clubbing on the outskirts of Chicago. They’d been doing party drugs and drinking. Jeremy remembered bits and pieces of an argument that had taken place not long beforehand: him wanting to sleep it off in the parking lot; her insisting she was okay to drive. He’d come to shortly after; Kristin had been passed out at the wheel, her forehead a bloody mess.
He worked to pull himself up from the drowning sensation that went hand in hand with the memory of those few seconds before he lost consciousness again. The way he’d been struggling for breath, he might as well have been underwater. “Addiction.” Knowing Ava deserved more than a one-word explanation, he added, “To drugs and alcohol—the both of us. A drunk-driving accident was the breaking straw for me. I wasn’t behind the wheel, but I didn’t stop her from driving either. In the aftermath, I was ready to get sober; she wasn’t.”
Ava closed her hand over the back of his arm. “That kind of difference would make it hard in even the best of marriages.”
“True.”
As they walked, Rolo mostly kept a few feet ahead but trotted back for attention from Ava as often as he sought it from Jeremy. Tentative as the mama doodle was, she walked along relatively easily, sniffing tree trunks and the cracks between uneven slabs of the sidewalk. She jumped at a few loud noises, stepping closer to Ava as she did. The labradoodle was unfazed by the noises and cars, though he was more high maintenance, attempting to put half of what he came across in his mouth.
“You know,” Jeremy said, circling back to their conversation after having to wrestle a discarded candy wrapper out of the labradoodle’s mouth before he swallowed it. “I’m a believer in the fact that life presents us with the experiences we can most learn from. I hope hers came when she was ready to receive it. For me, it happened after the accident. I was in the hospital overnight, and if I put my recovery to any one thing, I’d put it to a conversation I had with a fourteen-year-old who was there visiting his father.”
Ava looked his way expectantly after pausing to nudge along the mama doodle.
“The kid’s dad had nearly killed himself in an overdose and was too out of it to even know he was there. This kid, he went through things no kid should have to go through, but he still looked at the world like it was half-full, not half-empty. That conversation we had was what motivated me to change majors and to focus on teens, for that matter.”
She shook her head. “And look what you created.”
“I won’t pretend getting sober didn’t take considerable effort—that first year, especially. But thank you.” He never talked about this stuff. The truth was, it was easier with Ava. He couldn’t pretend otherwise.
“Are you still in touch with her?”
Jeremy thought back to the last time he’d seen Kristin after he’d finished hauling the last few boxes of his stuff out of their apartment—Kristin, whose parents had had an ugly divorce when she was thirteen and who hated being alone and who was in the throes of addiction but not ready to admit it. “I hope you drive headfirst into a semi, Jeremy Walker!” she’d screamed down from the second-story window.
“I reached out once during my first year of being sober, as part of my steps, but I think she was in a different place. We haven’t talked since the papers were signed eight years ago.”
“The circumstances are different, but I suspect it’ll be the same with me and Wes.” Ava stepped around a puddle on the sidewalk from a lawn that had been watered and brushed against his arm in the process. “Like we’re really done, you know? Not at all like with family. You can leave them behind, but they’re still your family, and the bond… It’s there just like always whenever it really counts. You know what I mean?”
Jeremy cleared his throat. He didn’t want to agree with her. He wanted to say you could leave your family behind the same way, but a part of him knew it would be a lie. “Yeah, I do.”
They reached the coffee shop in about twice the time it normally took. Like the center, the independently owned restaurant filled the first floor of another converted century-and-a-half-year-old brick home. Most customers took their purchases to go, but there were a handful of picnic tables outside as well as a small dining room inside.
Tail wagging expectantly, Rolo led them around the side of the building where the staff took walk-up orders through a modified double-wide window. The girl working the window waved as she spotted them stepping into line while waiting to take the order of an older couple who was discussing the merits of two different seasonal coffees. She pointed at the two leashed dogs and gave Jeremy a thumbs-up.
“Rolo, stay,” Jeremy said, seeing that Rolo was ready to sidestep the couple in front for the day-old bagel treat he was certain to get.
Ava laughed at the exaggerated whine Rolo let out. “I see you weren’t kidding about you two being regulars here.”
Unsure of their new surroundings, the leashed dogs glanced around, tails tucked as they sniffed the air. Spotting the girl on the other side of the window, the labradoodle began to bark wildly, while the mama doodle began shaking lightly. Jeremy offered them both encouraging pats before pointing out to Ava the chalkboard menu next to the window under the awning.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if you can hear my belly rumbling,” she said as she studied the menu. “I’m so hungry, and everything sounds great. As much as I’m trying to end my love affair with sweets, those salted caramel croissants sound like heaven.”
“They’re pretty close. How about I order a couple to go with breakfast? Edith and Eleanor won’t eat them, but Gabe’ll finish off whatever we don’t, no doubt.”
Ava raised an eyebrow. “Sounds good to me.”
“What are you thinking as far as something heartier?”
“The burritos all sound great. Something vegetarian though. I’ve never been able to stomach anything with meat in it before dinner.”
Jeremy suggested two of his favorites, an egg burrito with black bean and avocado and an egg white with spinach, avocado, and feta. When they got to the window, and the girl at the counter had bagel bites ready for all three dogs, Ava ended up choosing the latter and a hazelnut coffee with cream but no sugar.
After swiping his credit card, Jeremy closed a hand over Ava’s shoulder before realizing he was doing it. This touching thing—he needed to stop it before it gained momentum.
Thankfully, Rolo was around to draw some attention his way. He’d sucked his bagel down in two chomps even though his piece had been the largest of the three. The mama doodle was holding onto hers rather than chewing it, and a slim line of drool was escaping from the corner of her mouth. The labradoodle, on the other hand, had turned his back on everyone and was chowing down, tail tucked.
“Aww.” Ava’s lower lip turned down in a pout. “I’m guessing they aren’t used to treats like this.” She glanced around. “I’ll take mama over in the grass by herself so she can relax long enough to eat hers.”
“Rolo, stay,” Jeremy repeated when Rolo started to trot after them. Reluctantly, Rolo sank to his haunches, looking like a toddler who’d had his lollipop taken away. His dejection lifted when the girl working the window slipped him another bite a few minutes later.
When the coffees and food were ready, Jeremy and Ava met up again, and Ava nodded toward the open picnic table farthest from the commotion. “I think that one is out of the way enough, don’t you?”
After taking turns running inside to wash their hands, they wound up on the same side of the bench in order to allow the dogs ample space from the commotion around them. Ava’s leg brushed against Jeremy’s calf as she wound the mama’s leash into a half-hitch knot and secured it to one leg of the bench. Cashing in on his freedom, Rolo sank down directly behind Jeremy and Ava where he could be the first to claim any crumbs that fell.
After unwrapping the waxed paper, Ava took a bite of her burrito and made a little groan that warmed Jeremy’s blood, and she gave him a thumbs-up while finishing up her bite.
He grinned. “You can trust me when it comes to food.”
She dipped her head to the side, studying him. “I believe you, but that kind of goes without saying. There’s something about you that exudes trust right off the bat, food or no food.” She dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “Like you’re the guy who gets asked to get people’s mail and take care of pets and store an extra copy of passwords, and such.”
He scoffed. “Not that long ago, not too many people would have agreed with you. Very few, actually.”
“But things are different now. That’s what’s important.”
Her eyes were so damn blue, and her mouth proved to be no less tempting whenever his gaze dropped to it. You’re no better than Rolo salivating over a piece of string cheese. He cleared his throat. “True.”
“What you said last night about your dad… I wish no kids had to go through anything like that. I thought I had it rough when I was little, but looking back, I can’t say I did. I was grounded a dozen times before I was ten and sent to bed without dinner even more often. But no one ever hit me. Not even once.” She shook her head and her shoulders raised just a touch again. “Your dad… Was it bad?”
Jeremy had just taken a bite of his burrito and used the time to consider his response. He’d told very few people over the years about the concussions, cuts, and broken bones that hadn’t only come about because of him being a rough-and-tumble kid. And he wasn’t going to break tradition and tell her. Not a chance in hell.
While waiting for him to respond, she surprised him by brushing her fingertip over the hairline scar that ran along his eyebrow—the one he’d gotten when his dad had backhanded him with the blunt end of a longneck bottle of Coors. Ava’s innocent touch was enough to make him want to jog over a few blocks to Randall’s for a bottle of Jack and down it before common sense kicked in. Instead, he excused himself and headed to the window for a short pile of napkins they didn’t need. Rolo followed, eyeing him with his notoriously sharp curiosity. By the time they got back to the table, Jeremy could see on Ava’s face that she regretted asking the question.
“It was survivable,” he said as he sank down onto the bench again. Sometimes a day late and a dollar short was the best that could be expected.
After eyeing him for a few seconds that called out his bullshit answer better than words, she smiled sympathetically. “You know, from the outside looking in, you’ve done more than survive. The way you’ve turned it around, getting clean, helping those kids, you’ve thrived.”
He huffed before he could stop himself, then shook his head. “I’ve never been good at compliments, but thanks.”
“I know friends can be as close as family, but I hope you have some family somewhere you can count on too.”
“My uncle is pretty much it. We’re pretty close though.” After a pause, he added. “That’s not true. There’s my mom. We aren’t as close, but we text. Sometimes we talk on the phone. I see her about once a month, though I often find myself putting her off.”
Ava nodded, giving him space to say more. When he stayed quiet, she said, “In yoga, we call it collective trauma, the stuff our parents inherit and pass on mostly without meaning to.”
Jeremy thought of his father, wasted and vengefully angry, shoving him against a wall hard enough to break the drywall. How old had Jeremy been? Nine or ten maybe. And another time, cracking him over the head with a dinner plate hard enough to knock him out. He’d been eleven and in fifth grade that time. His mother had begged him not to tell anyone at school or his father would be locked up again.
A lot of good his silence had done.
Proving she picked up on more than his words, Ava closed her hand over the back of his shoulder. “Sorry. We can switch topics.”
“Thanks, though, yeah, I know what you’re talking about.” Then, before he knew he was going to say it, he added, “Your ex must be a real bonehead.”
