25. Chapter 25
Elowen
Julian steps through the gate, making me freeze instinctively. He doesn’t belong here among the cat toys and kibble dust, with his expensive shoes and carefully rolled sleeves. Aside from my apartment, this shelter is my safe space. The one place he hasn’t trampled all over.
“Daddy! Look!” Meredith charges toward him, Pepper clutched against her chest like a living stuffed animal. The kitten dangles patiently, yellow eyes wide but trusting. “This is Pepper! She’s my special friend today!”
Julian bends to his haunches and meets our daughter at eye level. “She’s beautiful,” he says, voice softer than I remember it being around animals. “May I touch her?”
Meredith nods solemnly. “Gentle fingers. Like this.” She demonstrates a light stroke along Pepper’s back.
I move closer, magnetized by this strangeness. Leo approaches, too, the gray tabby following at his heels like they’ve been companions for years instead of minutes.
Julian sticks out his pointer finger and more so pokes the cat rather than pets her.
Meredith giggles. “No, Daddy. Not like that!”
Julian retracts his hand.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, unable to keep the edge from my voice. Julian Plaza doesn’t just show up places without purpose. “Why are you here?”
He straightens, shoving his hands into his pants pockets. It’s a tell I recognize from board presentations gone sideways. He’s nervous.
“I was in the neighborhood,” he says, then stops himself. “I mean, I was in the neighborhood, because I came specifically to see you. All of you.”
I fold my arms across my chest, suddenly conscious of the shelter T-shirt with its faded logo and the cat hair embedded in my jeans. “We don’t have anything scheduled today.”
“I know.”
We stand in awkward silence, the children’s attention already drifting back to their cat friends in their newly cleaned catio.
“I wanted to explain about the dinner with Carmella,” he says finally. “I saw that red-headed woman there, taking photos or video. It took a minute, but then I remembered seeing her picture on the shelter’s website, and I realized she’s your coworker.”
“Not now,” I say, nodding toward the children. “This isn’t the place.”
He nods, accepting my firm stance. Another surprise. The Julian I knew would have persisted, would have controlled the conversation, but I’ll admit he’s been respecting my wishes as of late.
“Mom! Can I show Dad how clean we made everything?” Meredith tugs at my jeans, Pepper now draped across her shoulders like a fur scarf. I actually watch as Leo and Julian shiver in unison.
I hesitate, caught between protecting this new world I’ve built and acknowledging that, whatever else he might be, Julian is still their father. “Sure, Mi-Mi. Just for a few minutes.”
Her face lights up and she grabs Julian’s hand. “Come see! We used a special cleaner that’s safe for kitties! And I used the little broom all by myself!”
Julian’s expression is a mix between bewilderment and wonder as he allows himself to be led. Wonder is a rare expression I’ve seen on Julian.
“We cleaned all the water bowls,” Meredith continues, pointing proudly.
“You both did an amazing job,” Julian says. He’s genuinely impressed, I realize with a jolt. It’s like he’s seeing the children for what they are: children.
Leo approaches cautiously. “Buttons didn’t like us cleaning at first,” he explains, professional consultant to fellow professional. “But I showed him it wasn’t scary.”
Julian nods seriously. “That took patience. I’m impressed. How do you know his feelings about it changed?”
“Body language through his ears,” Leo replies.
I watch this exchange, waiting for Julian’s pivot to suggestions for improvement or placing unreasonable expectations, but it never comes. Instead, he listens.
“Leo,” Julian says after a moment, “How do you manage with all the cat hair? It doesn’t bother you?”
My defenses surge again. Listening about cat behavior is one thing, but messy clothes is something Julian will never get past. I wish I had seen him watching us while Leo and I worked on getting the fur off.
As his mother, I step forward, ready to intercept what feels like an incoming criticism. But Leo answers before I say anything.
“I take deep breaths,” he says matter-of-factly. “And if I brush it off right away, it doesn’t get overwhelming.”
Julian nods, absorbing this information. “So you don’t mind if the fur isn’t completely off?”
“Nah,” Leo says. “If it’s a lot, then my skin itches, but as long as most of the mess is gone, I’m okay.”
“Okay. Good for you for getting past it.”
I stare at him, temporarily speechless at his genuine engagement. Normally his idea of quality time is lectures.
“Would that approach work in other situations?” Julian asks. “For things besides cat hair?”
Leo considers this thoughtfully. “Maybe. It’s about catching the feeling before it gets too big, taking care of the mess, and then moving on.”
“That makes perfect sense,” Julian says. “I think adults could learn from that approach, too.”
I take a step closer, breaking the silence before I can lose my nerve. “You’re not trying to control his reactions and tell him what to do?”
Julian looks up, his gaze locking onto mine. “No.”
“And it doesn’t bother you that Leo isn’t perfectly clean?”
“I can’t control what other people do.”
I tilt my head, searching his face for a hint of the old Julian. “You never thought that before.”
“My wife hadn’t left me before.”
True. He couldn’t stop me from moving out or quitting his company. But I’m still surprised he’s talking about controlling what he can’t control. Could he actually be learning lessons?
Before the weight of his words can settle too heavily between us, Leo breaks the tension. “Do you want to meet Buttons?”
Once again, I’m floored. My cautious son is extending trust to the father who rarely had time for his interests beyond how to perfect them.
Julian nods, but then he glances at the concrete floor.
It’s clean, but nothing is ever clean enough for Julian.
Color me surprised for a third time today, because he removes his suit jacket, places it on the concrete, and then uses it to kneel on, as to not get dirt near him.
Once thoroughly safe, he extends his hand slowly, just as Leo has demonstrated.
The tabby sniffs his fingers, considers for a long moment, then bumps his head against Julian’s hand.
“He likes you!” Meredith says.
“I’m honored,” Julian replies.
I watch them, my mind struggling to reconcile this Julian with the man who scheduled fifteen-minute blocks of “quality time” with the children between conference calls.
This man, kneeling in shelter dirt with cat hair on his suit sleeve and genuine curiosity in his eyes, is someone I’m not sure I’ve ever met before.
Either way, I don’t know what to do with this version of Julian. I clear my throat. “Well, thanks for stopping by. I’m sure you need to get back to the office.” Surely he’s not planning to linger at the animal shelter.
Julian’s gaze shifts from Leo to me, a strange hesitation crossing his features. He straightens into a full stand, no longer kneeling. “Actually,” he says, “I cleared my schedule for the afternoon.”
I blink, momentarily thrown.
“I noticed the sign out front,” he continues. “About the adoption fair today. Are you setting up for that?”
“Yes,” I say cautiously, unsure where this is heading. “It starts in about an hour.”
“I could help…if you need an extra set of hands.”
The offer unexpectedly hangs between us. I cannot imagine Julian volunteering for manual labor, especially in a suit, with animals. The trifecta.
Before I can respond, Meredith gasps dramatically. “Yes! Daddy can help! He can be on my team!” She bounces on her toes, Pepper somehow maintaining her perch on those small shoulders despite the movement. “You can help me organize the toy display. I’m the professional organizer.”
“That sounds important,” he tells her seriously. “Are you sure I’m qualified?”
Meredith considers this with comical gravity before nodding. “You’re tall. You can reach the top shelves.”
This shelter space has been my haven. It’s where my curly hair and favorite clothes are assets rather than problems to fix. It’s where the children can be themselves without performance pressure. And now Julian wants to step into this world, to what end?
“I don’t think—” I start.
“We could use the help,” interrupts a voice behind me.
I turn to find Beatrix standing at the enclosure entrance, surveying Julian from head to toe.
“Adoption fair setup is always short-staffed,” she continues. “Tables need unfolding, tents need assembling, heavy stuff needs moving.”
Julian nods. “I can handle that.”
“In that suit?” Beatrix’s brow raises skeptically.
Julian glances down as if just remembering what he’s wearing. “I keep workout clothes in my car for the gym. I could change.”
We must have slipped into an alternate universe. Really, it’s the only explanation.
Beatrix makes a noise in the back of her throat. “Fine. Go change. We’ve got six tables and three tents to set up in the south yard. Time’s wasting.”
“Consider it done.”
Meredith cheers, Leo looks pleased, and I stand frozen, watching my carefully separated worlds collide.
Before Julian retreats to his car to grab his change of clothing, he glances down at his suit jacket still on the concrete floor. I know him, and what he’s thinking right now is that there is no way he can touch that thing covered in dirt.
“I’ve got it,” I say, already leaning down and grabbing his jacket. “I’ll put this inside and drop it off at the dry cleaners for you tomorrow.”
He takes a deep breath and slowly exhales. “Thank you.” Then he’s off while I hold his jacket.
Meredith and Leo are playing with Buttons and Pepper when Beatrix says, “Fallinger, make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. Show him the ropes.”
My mouth opens, then closes. Julian, taking direction from me? The role reversal is so hilarious I want to laugh.
“I’m not sure that’s going to work.”