Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
PARKER
“Don’t keep me in suspense! Show me your new place,” Paisley ordered.
I flipped the camera around on my phone and began walking through the apartment. “It won’t take long. It’s just one bedroom, one bath.”
I took her into the tiny room, panning over the full-size bed and dresser. “I just moved in yesterday, so until I have time to make a trip to one of the bigger towns, I borrowed a sleeping bag from work. I did pop by the local charity shop and grabbed a few knickknacks. I got this great stoneware bowl.” Wandering back out into the main living space, I showed her the kitchen that took up one wall, along with the bowl on the counter I’d filled with fresh fruit. I completed the tour by showing the dinette set tucked beside the front window, and the lounge area, which had a decently comfy sofa, coffee table, and armchair.
“I’m super grateful it came furnished. And furnished with some decent pieces instead of some el cheapo weird stuff. My landlord and his wife have good taste.”
“They do. It looks cozy and comfortable.”
I flipped the camera back around. “It still needs some of me in it, but it’s mine.” I’d paid for the deposit and first month’s rent entirely on my own, with money I’d earned myself. The amount of pride I felt at that might have been just a shade ridiculous, but it was something I hadn’t been sure I could do when I came here.
“Congrats, Parker. Seriously. In a matter of just a few weeks, you’ve achieved your primary goal. That’s months faster than you expected.”
I flopped onto the sofa. “It definitely feels like the Universe is smiling on me.”
“And will you be taking that as an auspicious sign to tell everybody back home? Or, perhaps more importantly, when are you going to come clean to your guard dog?”
Some of my pleasure in my accomplishment dimmed. I’d known there’d be consequences for the decisions I’d made. At the time, I’d judged them worth it. I knew the longer things went on, the worse it would be, but I just… wasn’t ready yet.
“I’m not sure,” I hedged. “I just need a little more time. Please.” I needed to be sure that no one could drag me out of my new life. Because I knew they’d absolutely try.
Paisley did not look pleased with this request.
I held in a wince. “In other news, I got all your newsletters scheduled for next month, laid in the socials leading up to your next release, and sent you an analysis of the ad spend and audiences from your last big Facebook marketing campaign.”
She opened her mouth, and I knew I wasn’t getting away with the subject change. But before she could speak, someone knocked on my door.
“Apparently somebody’s here. I’ve gotta go. I promise I’ll be in touch soon.”
She sighed. “Talk soon.”
“I owe you!”
“Yeah, you do. Love you. Be safe.”
I ended the call and went to answer the door, curious who it might be. No one but the guys knew I’d moved in yet.
Saoirse stood at the top of the steps, a bottle of wine in one hand, a leash in the other. At the other end of the leash was a gigantic white floof of a dog.
“Oh! Aren’t you gorgeous?” I instantly crouched down. The dog wriggled with joy, kissing whatever bits of me he could reach, while I scruffed his ears and chest.
Saoirse stepped inside after the dog. “I see where I rank in all this.” Her tone was dry, but a smile took any sting out.
“Sorry. You distracted me with cuteness. Who is this adorable pile of fluff?”
“This is Falkor. My current problem child.”
“Problem child?” I continued to rub Falkor’s ears as he leaned against me. “He seems like a total doll.”
“Let’s open this wine I brought as a housewarming gift, and I’ll tell you about him.”
“You’re in luck. Dishes and basic cookware were part of the furnishings.”
I wandered over to the kitchen and retrieved a pair of glasses. “How did you even know I was here?”
“Alex told Ciara. Ciara told the group chat. We want to add you to that, by the way, but I thought we’d better ask before we just did it. Because we’re a talky lot, and once you’re added, it’s hard to leave.”
Warm fuzzies bloomed in my chest that they wanted to include me. “I’d love that.” Hunting through the drawers, I nodded toward the dog. “He’s a Great Pyrenees, right?”
“He is. About two-and-a-half years old.”
My search turned up a corkscrew. Falkor followed me step for step, looking up in adoration. God, he was adorable.
Saoirse did the honors with the wine, and we settled in with our glasses. Falkor sat at attention, sweeping that big poof of a tail as he stared first at me and then the empty stretch of sofa beside me.
I bit my lip. “Is he allowed on the furniture?”
“That’s your call.”
“Well, since you’re bringing me the gift of puppy cuddles along with the wine…” I patted the sofa beside me. “Falkor, up.”
He leapt gracefully onto the sofa, turned one circle, then collapsed in a rag-doll heap so his head landed in my lap.
“Oh, he’s in heaven now.”
“So am I.” I grinned and stroked his head and silky ears as he continued to try to lick any part of me he could reach. “So what’s his story?”
Saoirse sipped at her wine. “Falkor is a failed mobility service dog.”
“Failed? He couldn’t do the job?”
“Oh no, he does the job beautifully. He’s just too friendly.” She sipped her wine and sighed. “It was inevitable with his name, I suppose. He misunderstood the assignment. Instead of luck dragon, he thought he was supposed to be a lick dragon. The group that was training him failed him. He’s not suitable for dealing with livestock, and he’s not been 100% trained and certified for work as a service animal, but he’s also not happy not working. So I’ve been trying to figure out what to do with him.”
“Poor baby.” I moved my scritches down to his chest, wondering how anyone could see that face and those big liquid eyes and not fall instantly in love.
“I was thinking you might like him.”
I stopped petting and stared at her. “What?”
“Well, since you’re staying now. You didn’t say too much about what sort of chronic situation you’re facing, but you did say you were sometimes limited because of it, and I thought I’d see if you two might suit. You clearly love dogs, and I thought he could be both help and companion.”
My throat tightened with emotion at the offer. I was carving out a place here, but I still got lonely.
Falkor licked my wrist, reminding me I wasn’t finished with my adoration duties. Absently, I resumed petting him, feeling grounded by the contact. I hadn’t told anyone here the specifics about my condition, but in the face of this incredibly kind gesture, it seemed I ought to.
“I have fibromyalgia. Most of the time I can function reasonably normally. I’m well versed in how to manage my symptoms. But when I flare, I do have some mobility challenges. There are days my legs simply won’t work.” I hadn’t yet had one of those here, but I knew it was only a matter of time.
Saoirse showed no pity, simply nodded, as if that solidified her logic for bringing the dog. “He can help with that. He can answer the door to let someone in, retrieve things for you, assist you in getting up and down stairs. Those are all things he’s trained for.”
I’d never considered a service dog before. The bad days were simply bad, and I adapted as needed. But at home I’d had help and a safety net I didn’t have here in Scotland. And yet…
“I hate to take a service dog that someone else needs more.”
Saoirse shook her head. “He’s never going to be a service dog like that. He failed the program. Think of him as a pet with bonus features. Here. Let me show you. Falkor, come.”
The dog scrambled down and sat at Saoirse’s feet, waiting for orders.
“Brace,” she commanded. The dog immediately planted himself, stiff-legged and steady. “This is how he helps someone stand up from a seated position or maintain balance.” She demonstrated, using his sturdy frame as support. “Go ahead, try it.”
Tentatively, I called him over and placed my hand on his back. He didn’t move a muscle, completely stable, as I pushed myself up from my couch.
Next, she tossed her keys across the room. “Fetch.”
Falkor bounded over, snatched them up, and brought them back, dropping them gently in her outstretched palm. “He can retrieve anything you drop—your mobile, the TV remote. He can even help you with laundry.”
When she commanded “Step,” he sidled close to her leg, providing a living banister. “This is for stairs or anywhere you need extra support while walking.”
I watched her put Falkor through his paces, fascinated. What impressed me most was how focused he remained throughout the demonstration, his brown eyes alert and eager to help. He wasn’t just following commands; he genuinely seemed to enjoy the work.
“The difference between him and a full service dog is mainly his temperament,” Saoirse explained. “He’s a bit too friendly for public access work. But for in-home assistance? He’s perfect. And he’s very protective, which is never a bad thing for a single woman living on her own. What do you say?”
Big brown eyes looked lovingly up at mine as his tail swish swish swished across the hardwood floor, and I was an absolute goner.
“Well, I always wanted a dog.”
Saoirse grinned in triumph. “Excellent. I’ve got a bed and the rest of his supplies in my 4x4.”