20. Chapter 20
Chapter 20
Lizzie
B rooke shut the front door behind us, pulling me by the arm into the living room, where I now stood dripping. “Ok, you little hussy, spill it. After allll of your denials last night, did I seriously just catch you making out in the lake with James freakin’ Tate? ” Her tone was accusatory, but by the look on her face, I knew—Brooke was thrilled.
And if I’d been blushing before, it was nothing compared to the inferno now spreading across my pasty-pale landscape. And how was she not reacting to the sounds of my brain screaming, ‘what the hell just happened?’ Because even I could barely hear her question over all that racket.
Breaths. Deep breaths. Just be cool .
“Ummm… would we call that making out?” Making a lame attempt to appear nonchalant, I walked past her towards the bathroom, grabbing a towel from the closet to wrap around me. Now that I was out of the water and back in the air conditioning, I was beginning to feel the cooler air overtake the heat, still radiating throughout my entire being following that kiss.
Because, OMG, that kiss.
“Oh, no, no, no … you do not get to be coy right now.” Brooke crossed her arms as she examined me. “This is me . Your best friend. I know you better than anyone. So seriously, wha—”
Ever-so-gently, I closed the bathroom door in my friend’s face, turning on the shower to further drown out her interrogation—I knew I’d pay for that one later. For now, I leaned my head against the tile wall behind the door, finally releasing the breath I’d been holding as I held my fingertips to my lips.
All I needed was a few moments to process everything on my own—and figure out how I felt about the fact that James freakin’ Tate had kissed me. Me.
Or the even more surprising fact that—despite everything I’d promised to myself—I’d also very willingly kissed him back.
Three hours later, Indi and her twelve-year-old son, Callum, met me and Brooke at Lakeview Humane Society, following our early lunch with Kait at her family’s bar, The Thirsty Beaver. Although using the term ‘lunch’ was a bit of a stretch, considering it had been more of an interrogation—with fries on the side.
It took me finally admitting to what had happened—and insisting to both Kait and Brooke that no, I wasn’t ready to talk about it —before they let it drop.
Right now, all I wanted to focus on was finding my dog.
Walking over, I gave both Indi and Callum a quick squeeze. She was still wearing her scrubs, having just finished an early morning on-call shift after last night’s bonfire. Towards the end of the night, she’d finally confessed that the roof of her house had started leaking during the last storm, so she’d been taking on extra shifts to cover the upcoming repair expenses.
Indi was one of the hardest working people I knew, and she took both her job and her role as a single mom seriously. She also had the most generous soul, which is why she’d insisted on being here today, instead of at home resting.
But even though my friend looked tired, she and her son seemed as excited as I was to find me a companion. I glanced over at Brooke. “Hey, why don’t you and Callum head in… I want to talk to Indi for a sec.”
Giving me a knowing look, Brooke nodded, throwing an arm around Callum as the pair walked inside.
“Alright, what’s up? Is something wrong?” Indi’s eyes were concerned, ready to help. My oldest friend had always been there for me, without question or hesitation. Which is why it was now my turn to do the same.
I pulled out a small envelope from my purse and handed it to her. “I wanted to give you this without Callum around.”
She looked at me curiously for a moment, then opened the envelope, her eyes growing wide. Inside was a check for twenty thousand dollars, which I’d pulled from my inheritance fund at the bank before brunch that morning. Immediately, she started shaking her head. “Are you insane?? No, no… I can’t accept this.”
“Why not? You need a new roof. And there’s plenty of other things you’ve had to put off for way too long.” I placed a hand on her arm, giving it a slight squeeze. “What good is this inheritance if I can’t do good things with it? You’re my family, and this is what family does. Please, let me do this for you guys.”
She stood there, the shaking of her head slowing as the tears came. “I… don’t know…” She paused, taking a breath. “Thank you. I don’t know how I can ever repay you, Lizzie.”
“You’re not allowed to,” I said simply. “My only requirement is that you help me find this dog.”
Throwing her arms around me, she whispered into my ear. “Deal. Love you so much.”
Pulling back, I gave her a watery smile. “Love you, too. Now let’s go in and make sure Brooke hasn’t convinced Callum he needs eighty-seven kittens.”
And that’s exactly where we found them, Brooke peering into the kitten pen as Indi’s son poked a finger between the metal bars and played with one very cute and fluffy gray kitty. Callum was tall for his age, his dark brown hair in clear contrast to Indi’s blonde, but just as curly. He was a great kid—thoughtful, easy-going and kind—in those ways, very much like his mother. And for someone who’d been surrounded by six unofficial aunties for his entire life, he never seemed bothered by the fuss.
Indi had chosen not to reveal the identity of his father—not even to me, her oldest friend. I’d never pressed her on it—though, sometimes, I wondered how much time she had before Callum started asking more questions about who his father was—or wanting a relationship with him.
For now, though, he seemed content to walk alongside me, his mom and Brooke chatting behind us, as we followed the staff person back towards the kennels.
“Auntie Lizzie, what kind of dog are you looking for?”
I thought for a moment, scanning the cages. “I’m not sure, really… I guess I’m hoping that I’ll connect with one of these pups, and just know that they’re The One . That we’re meant to be together, you know?”
How ironic that I was standing here—thirty years old, waxing poetic about Fate, like I knew what the hell I was talking about—when my only source material came straight outta the pages of romance novels. What else did I have, really? Because outside of my dead grandparents’ marriage, real life had fallen pathetically short.
But did it have to be fiction? Why was it so unreasonable for actual relationships to work out that way? Twenty years of filling my head and heart with these stories had made me want to believe it. By now, though, that belief was starting to feel, I don’t know, ridiculous.
“Lizzie in the clouds with daydreams…” Dad would often sing as he walked by me, to the tune of the classic sixties’ song. I used to like it. Now, I wondered if all it had done was to keep me up in those clouds, floating in a state of false belief.
But obsessing over any of this in the middle of an animal shelter—including how it might apply to a certain contractor—was pointless. I was here to find a different love of my life—of the four-legged variety, that is.
We walked along one side of the kennel area, both Indi and Brooke cooing at various dogs, pulling me over to take a look, eager to get me to commit. And sure, many of them were cute, every single one of them worthy of love. I just hadn’t felt that spark yet.
After a few more minutes, my friends became distracted by a cage filled with newborn kittens. Callum and I continued on, rounding the corner towards the last corridor.
And that’s when I saw him—lying in the rear corner of his cage, with the name Garbage tacked up in big letters next to the door.
Oh my God… who names their dog ‘Garbage’?
Immediately, I knew this dog needed love more than all the others.
He was a mutt-astic mix of breeds, but I could tell there had to be some Australian Shepherd, maybe even some Golden Retriever in his lineage. Noticing us, Garbage lifted himself up off the floor to mosey on over to where we stood by his cage door, sniffing at my outstretched hand.
Now that he was more visible in the light, I noticed his fur was a shaggy mix of white and chestnut splotches—his sad eyes, a vivid blue.
And—he was missing his front right leg. A tripawd.
What can I say? It was love at first sight.
I lowered myself to the cement floor and Callum followed suit, reaching out a tentative hand through the wire grate. Garbage sniffed at his fingers for a moment before giving them a sloppy lick, Callum giggling.
“How are you doing, sweet boy?” I murmured softly as the pup turned his eyes back to me, tongue hanging out. “What’s your story?” He cocked his head then, as if he understood my question. It was freaking adorable.
I glanced up at Mark, the staff member who’d brought us back here. “Can you open his cage? I just want to interact with him a little more, make sure he’s comfortable with me.”
“Sure.” He unlocked the door, and Garbage came bounding out, almost knocking me over as he kiss-attacked my face. Giggling, I held out a hand to hold him back a bit, stroking his head with the other hand at the same time. Callum sat down next to me and began petting him, too—until Garbage surprised us both again by flopping over onto his back, exposing a fluffy white belly. Laughing again, we both gave it a good rub.
“You’re such a good boy, Ga—” I glanced up at Mark, “—is his name really supposed to be Garbage?”
He sighed. “Yeah. He was dropped off by some frat boys that came over from Duluth a few weeks ago. Probably thought it would be funny to name a dog something stupid.”
“Do you know anything more about his story?”
“Not really. The vet tech said he’s probably around three years old, based on his dental… and that he likely lost his leg as a puppy. Probably why he can move so well without it. Otherwise, he’s a healthy, normal dog. Real good-natured and everything.” He shrugged. “The only reason he’s still here is because most people assume a tripawd would be harder to care for. But that’s definitely not the case. Dogs are very adaptable.”
Indi and Brooke were behind us now as Callum and I took turns scratching Garbage’s ears, his tail wagging and tongue lolling off to the side. “Those dumb boys didn’t know what they were missing. You’re perfect.” I looked up at Indi and Brooke. “He’s the one.”
“I’m pretty sure he thinks so, too,” Indi said, smiling.
Callum looked up at his mother as he stood up, clearly in heaven himself. “Mom, can we please get a dog, too…?”
She met my eyes briefly before giving her son a sad smile. “Sorry, bud… we’ve talked about this. It’s just too hard with our schedule. But… maybe we could try a cat?” Rustling his hair, Indi glanced over at me again. “And I bet Auntie Lizzie will let you hang with her pup anytime you want…”
“Yep! As much as you want. And you can be my number one dog sitter too, if it’s alright with your mom.”
“Ok.” Callum seemed satisfied. With a quick smile to his mom as Indi took him by the hand, the pair wandered around the corner to take a look at the kittens again.
Mark shut the door of the cage and hooked a leash to Garbage’s collar as I hoisted myself up off the floor. “So, should I go ahead and get the paperwork ready?”
“Definitely.”
“Great.” Handing me the leash, he headed off towards the office.
Now that we were alone, Brooke gave me a sideways glance as she scratched behind my dog’s ears. “Did you give her the check?”
“Yep… and as predicted, she tried to refuse. But I still won.”
“That’s my girl.” She paused. “Listen, about earlier…”
“... it’s fine, really. I just want to focus on this little guy right now.”
She reached out, giving my arm a squeeze. “I get it. But… you know I’m here for you, right?”
“Of course I know that.”
Brooke gave me a quick smile, turning back towards the dog. “So… it’s ‘Garbage’ then, huh?”
I grinned. “Yep. But that’s not his name.”
She looked at me, eyes curious. “Oh, yeah? Then what will we call him?”
“Bucky.”
“Uh… I’m not following.”
I knelt down again in front of my dog, giggling as he gave my face another lick. “As in Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier. Cap’s best friend. He lost an arm, remember?” Bucky almost seemed to smile as I shared his much-improved origin story, and I knew I’d made the right choice. “He was a complex hero, just like my Bucky. And Ethan’s gonna lose his mind when I tell him.” I was already itching to send the text, thinking about my comic book-obsessed brother’s inevitable reaction once I gave him the news.
For now, though, I looked straight into my pup’s dreamy blue eyes. “What d’ya say, Bucky?”
Much to my delight, Bucky— the dog formerly known as ‘Garbage’ —tilted his head upwards, releasing a long, soulful howl. Brooke and I both started laughing, and I roughed the fluff on his head.
“Come on, Bucky boy… let’s go home.”