Chapter 28
Garrett
“It’s alright, boy.”
I told myself I was waiting out the front of the house with Bronson to help accustom him to the noises of our street. Really, it was because we were waiting for her. Bronson could at least show it in the way his ears perked up every time a car passed by, his muscles quivering as he held himself in a seated position. Me? I couldn’t do anything but plaster a friendly smile on my face as Katie’s car pulled up. That faded when I saw her.
“C’mon.”
I didn’t need to give the dog a prompt. He was on his feet, straining against the lead as soon as he saw her. We half-walked, he half-dragged me closer.
“Hello, boy!” She started smiling the moment she saw the dog, but I saw it. How pale she looked, the furrow in her brow as she pulled up outside the house. “He is looking better.”
“Much.” I didn’t get where I was in my job by ignoring people’s subvocal cues. “How about you?”
That furtive look away, the press of those full lips. Yeah, something happened today, but she shook her head, as if to brush that off.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.” I moved in closer, offering her the lead, and she took it readily. “But we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“Don’t have time to,” she said firmly. “I’ve got about twenty minutes to take Bronson for a quick walk around the block and then make sure he eats and drinks something.” He had already today, seeming to come out of his shell. Her eyes met mine and there was something hard and brittle there. “Then I’ve got a pizza and a movie date with Mandie.”
I swallowed, trying hard not to think about the pasta sauces I’d been working on all day. The hope was that if I enticed her inside, maybe we could have a take two of the other night. Instead, it looked like the boys and I would be eating pasta leftovers for every meal for the next few days.
“Can’t be late for that,” I said. “I figured we’d take Bronson down the street. It's pretty quiet down here, not a lot of kids or other dogs.”
“Right.”
Whatever happened to Katie today, it was still on her mind. A ghostly presence, it left me feeling like I was a third wheel in my own front yard.
“So we take it slow,” she told me. “Let Bronson lead the way.” The dog gazed up at her, panting happily at the sound of his name. “If he starts to get skittish, we pause, let him centre himself and if that doesn’t happen, we bring him back home. Slow, controlled, calm exposure.”
“Trauma informed practise.” She turned my way, really seeing me for the first time since she got out of the car. “Makes sense. We use something like that at work.”
None of this was going the way I planned it. The question I wanted to ask Katie was sitting there on the tip of my tongue, but it went unsaid.
“So you managed to get a day off?” she asked as we started forward. Bronson paused, sniffing around madly, then presumably feeling like it was safe to do so, he followed our steps. “Good boy!”
“Yeah, today and a day next weekend,” I replied. “You?”
“I get the whole weekend off for working through a few Saturdays and Sundays for my colleagues,” she replied. “I’m going to sleep in and watch way too much TV and read books.” Her nose wrinkled. “If I can stop Mandie from trying to drag me to the gym. She threatened to pick me up bodily and carry me there, and I said she couldn’t, and somehow that ended up with her showing that she could do squats using my body as the weight.” She shook her head. “Never tell my sister she can’t do anything.”
“Noted.” My eyes scanned the suburban street, looking for stimuli that might stress the dog out. Kids weren’t home from school yet, so there weren’t any of them yelling or screaming. Most people were at work, so the houses were still and quiet. “There’s?—”
It was all going so well. Bronson was trotting along, tail wagging, looking like a dog that was having the time of his life, when some idiot came roaring around the corner on his motorbike. The engine roared, and I knew exactly how this would go. Without thinking, I sprang into action, leaping over the dog, putting my body between him, Katie, and the road.
“It’s OK. You’re OK.”
I spun around to find Katie down by the dog’s side, rubbing his chest in soothing strokes. Bronson quivered, his eyes darting from side to side. Was he seeing us, the street, the bike as it took off down the street, or something else?
“Hey, boy.” I put myself in his line of sight, deliberately blocking off his view. Close down the space, reduce stimulation, and help him find his centre, that was the plan, but right when I thought we were getting somewhere, he yanked hard on the leash.
“Ow!”
My focus wasn’t Bronson right then. The dog went pelting back up the street, but I had Katie’s hand in mine, inspecting the red mark there. I pressed the skin around it, heard her involuntary hiss, and felt her try to pull away.
“How much is it hurting?” I asked. “How’re your fingers?” I started to move them gently. “Any pain?”
“No, but Bronson…”
She was up and on her feet and running after him seconds later, which was something I should’ve done.
He was my dog, my responsibility, and I should be focussed on his well-being, but beating myself up didn’t stop me from feeling the shadow of her palm in mine. We didn’t need to go far. Bronson had thankfully bolted for the front door, and right now he was pressed into the corner by the window, his tail wagging furiously.
“Bronson…” Could a dog have looked any more pitiful? I didn’t think so, which had me crouching down and taking a step towards him. He let out some anxious little whines. “Bud, it's OK. You did so well. That stupid damn bike?—”
“Maybe keep it light and fluffy right now?” Katie whispered.
“New things can be scary, bud,” I told him, sinking down to the ground. “For all of us. You should’ve seen me the first day I needed to put an IV line in…”
Bronson couldn’t understand the words I was telling him, but my actions, my tone, he read them all too well. He dared to pull his face away from the wall, shooting me a brief look before trying to make himself small. The fact he was probably forty kilos of dog didn’t make a difference. Ancient instincts were kicking in to help him survive this.
“C’mon, you big baby.” Slowly, carefully, I slid my hands over the dog’s ribs, and when I felt the fine tremor leave his body, I picked him up, hoisting him up into my arms. “I’ve got you.”
There was, of course, the problem of how to open the front door, but Katie was already there. The bright smile I caught as I passed by helped lighten my load. Instinctively, I walked towards my bedroom and as soon as I let him down, he was back under the bed. I’d left an old, sweaty tank top under there to help him get used to my scent.
“Well done.” I hadn’t felt a rush like this since my first year of nursing and Helen grudgingly praised my performance. “You stayed calm. Well…” Katie shot me an impish grin. “Except for the leaping over the dog bit. That was very brave, protecting us from the big bad bike.”
“I was trying to block out the noise, the sight of the bike.”
“Yes, well, I think my instincts are right. You and Bronson will be fine together.”
So why did she look so sad? I watched Katie’s smile fade.
“I think we make a great team.” Shit, shit, was I going to say it? “All of us. You could stay for dinner and we could talk about the best way to help him overcome his fears.” I flashed her my most winning smile. “Not only do I make a damn fine lasagna, but my puttanesca could make the gods themselves cry.”
Her lips twitched. I knew she wanted to smile, but somehow, she resisted with a shake of her head.
“You don’t need me.” She said that in a quiet, matter-of-fact tone that demanded I refute the statement, but she forged on. “The offer is tempting, but Ryan Gosling and pizza awaits. If Bronson goes off his food or won’t drink…” She glanced down at the bed. “Then give the vets a call. You should do a consult anyway, to see if there’s another medication that might help him with his anxiety.”
That was a brush off if ever there was one and I could take a hint, but… I couldn’t help but feel whatever had her looking so pale and drawn when she turned up was the problem.
“You know you can talk to me.” Where the hell had that come from? Her confused expression made clear I’d just blurted that out without context. “I mean, no matter what was…” I shook my head. “People tell me I’m a good listener. I’ve got an amazing bottle of wine in the kitchen. You could have a glass and tell me about your day.”
“Nothing happened.” She was lying despite that bright smile, because there was a sadness in her eyes that wasn’t there before. If some client, some vet, put that there, I’d be having words— “I’m fine, but there’s no point in me hanging around here. I…” She swallowed hard. “Was reminded that I tend to get overly involved in other people’s lives. Well, not anymore. New year, new me. I’m going to put myself first for once, and tonight that involves pizza and ugly crying over movies.”
I watched her crouch down and, thankfully, Bronson scrambled back out, seemingly having found his centre again.
“Bye, buddy. Be good for Garrett. He knows what he’s doing and he’ll look after you.”
As if in response to her words, he came and pressed his body into my legs. I reached down and rumpled those velvety ears. While I wanted to pet the dog and make sure he was OK, I also wanted…
Katie to stay. To walk down the hall and into the kitchen. For her to tell me the sauce smelled amazing, right before I grabbed a spoon to give her a taste. I could just imagine holding it out for her, resisting her urge to feed herself, right as those pretty pink lips parted. She’d flush with pleasure, tasting the saltiness of the pepperoni, the tartness of the tomatoes, and the brine of the black olives. Over a bowl of pasta and a glass of wine, I’d ask her the question that had been burning inside me all day.
But she’d made clear that was not an option.
“OK, well, if you’re going to eat what is no doubt an inferior pizza from some terrible takeaway.” She grinned at my snotty tone. “Then I guess I’ve gotta shoot my shot now.”
Bronson watched me closely as I moved towards Katie. He knew what was up. We might have very different motivations, but I was willing to bet the turmoil inside his head went quiet the minute he was around her. She was like a glass of crisp, white wine, with just a touch of acidity to balance out the sweetness.
“I’m heading down to the Smiling Samoyed Brewery on the weekend.” I watched her smile falter and her eyes go wide. “I mean, I can take Rhys, but he whines and bitches and then gets hangry really easily. He fills up on roadhouse food on the way and won’t want any pizza when he gets there.” Her little giggle was everything. “I’d much rather bring someone who would actually enjoy the trip and the scenery. There’s some cute dogs to pat.”
“I…” She was going to say she’d love to, I just knew it, but instead she closed her mouth and let out a little sigh. “I’ll let you know. I’ve got your number, right?”
“Right.”
Girls had knocked me back before, so why did this feel like a punch to the gut? I crouched down as she went to leave, giving Bronson a hug. To her it would’ve looked like I was preparing him for Katie leaving, but really? His whines, the way he strained to chase after her, was a perfect reflection of how I felt. I just couldn’t make pathetic noises as she walked out the door.
“C’mon, boy,” I said as I heard it click shut. “Pretty sure Rhys still has some steak in the kitchen for you. I’ll slice you some up and then…” I shook my head. “We can work out how the hell we’re going to convince Katie to become part of our lives.”