Chapter Sixteen #2
Was she going to say ‘I love you’? I’d have repeated it, but I just say, “’Bye,” and end the call.
I pick up my wine glass and stretch out, exhaling.
She’s officially moved out. Her relationship is over.
And she wants to start seeing me. The realization dawns slowly, spreading through me, filling every part of my body with elation.
It’s not a guaranteed happily ever after.
But it’s a start. She doesn’t regret what we did.
And she said, I think we could have something very special.
It’s the first glimmer of a sunrise; a new shoot pushing through the soil after a long winter.
It’s a beginning, and right now it’s more than I probably deserve.
*
The next day, I work at the Community Wellbeing Center until one p.m., have some lunch, and then walk up to the Ark.
As I pass the new PAWS site, I can see that Isaac’s there with a couple of vans and three other guys.
The front door is open, and they’ve already started work inside.
I go in and introduce myself to them, chat for a bit, then leave them to it and head up the hill to the Ark.
I cross the Quad, tempted to go into the clinic and see Beth, but she’s probably working, and I don’t want to disturb her.
Instead, I go into the Forever Home, carrying the leash I bought the other day.
Kaia, who runs the admin side of things, is behind her desk, and she smiles as I walk in and says, “Hey Archer! Come to get Queenie? I’ve got the paperwork. Are you ready to sign?”
“Sure.” I put my signature on the dotted line.
“She’s had all her vaccinations, flea, and worm tablets, and she’s been chipped,” she says. “She’s all ready to go.”
“Thanks.” Oddly excited, I walk into the barn.
I thought Cullen would be here, but instead Jude is standing on the green training mat with the Spoodle. I pause and watch him take a small treat out of his pocket as he tells her to sit, and she promptly drops her butt to the floor.
“Hello,” I say, smiling as I walk up to them.
She’s been groomed so her coat is quite short, especially around her face, revealing her beautiful brown eyes.
She’s a gorgeous little dog, and as she sees me, she runs over, fluffy tail wagging, to greet me.
I drop to my haunches to fuss her up, loving her eager kisses.
“Hey,” Jude says. “She’s all ready.” He gestures at her neck. “I had that done for you.”
She’s wearing a pink collar with her council registration tag attached. When I look at the small disc dangling from the collar, I can see that it has the name Queenie on it, and my mobile number.
“Thank you.” I look up at him, genuinely touched that he bothered.
He shrugs and bends to stroke her as she runs up to him. “I’ve been trying to teach her a couple of commands for you. She’s pretty good at sitting already, but her recall still needs practice.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.”
“She has a lovely nature. She’s going to be a good therapy dog.”
“Yeah, it’s been a long time since Hamlet. I’m looking forward to having her.”
“You’ve got all her gear and food and everything?”
“Yeah.” I straighten, watching Queenie as she wanders up to the other cages and touches her nose to the dogs behind them as if saying goodbye.
“I saw Beth last night,” Jude says.
“Yes, she told me.” As soon as I say it, I wonder whether he thinks I’m making the point that she called me to talk about it, but he doesn’t react.
Instead, he says, “I dropped her off at the cottage with most of her stuff. She didn’t want to take anything from the house.”
“I think the cottage is fully furnished, so she doesn’t have any space for it at the moment.”
“Yeah. I wandered around after I got home, thinking about all the stuff we’d bought together.”
My brows draw together. He’s still my best friend, and he’s clearly as sad as she is about their breakup, even if they both accept it was necessary.
“We rarely go into a relationship assuming it’s for a limited time,” I say.
“I guess.” He puts a brush away in a drawer. “She asked me if I’d ever loved her.”
“What did you say?”
He turns and shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I said ‘I don’t know.’”
“Ouch.” Poor Beth.
“She deserves better,” he says. “I hope it works out for you.”
I stare at him, surprised by his declaration. “Thank you,” I say softly.
He clears his throat. “How’s the work coming along at PAWS?”
“Yeah, good, I’ve okayed the renovations with Isaac, and he reckons we might have the place up and running in a couple of months.”
“That’s great. Cullen mentioned keeping my eyes open for any dogs that might be suitable therapy dogs in case any of the staff want to adopt one.”
“Yeah. Natalie Price has talked about getting one. And I’m seeing Tyr Donovan tomorrow. He might be coming on board.”
“I heard he was out of the Navy.”
“Apparently, yeah.”
It’s odd to be talking as if the past few days haven’t happened. As if he doesn’t have a growing bruise on his jaw from where I hit him.
“I’d like to come down and have a look around at some point,” he says. “I haven’t seen the building yet.”
“Of course. I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon around two to meet Tyr and Natalie, and you’re welcome to drop by.”
“Okay.”
I go over to Queenie and clip the leash onto her collar. “Well, I suppose it’s time to take you home, young lady.”
“Good luck,” Jude says.
I walk toward the outer door and then stop and look at him. “Thanks.”
He nods and turns away, and I head outside.
Outside, it’s fairly busy, with a few clients arriving at the clinic, a van parking to make a delivery, some visitors walking slowly with Leon as he tells them about the Ark, and then I see Dane Harper opening the back doors of the ambulance.
I wander over with Queenie, letting her sniff around on the grass verge, and smile as Dane takes out a small dog and closes the door.
“You been playing Superman, swooping in to save the day?” I joke.
“Yeah, my tights and cape are in the van.” He grins.
His short brown hair is spiky on top and sticks up at the front.
He’s wearing one of the navy polo tops of the Animal Welfare Team and cargo shorts.
“Poor little dude’s been living on his own in a shed with the horses. ” The dog trembles in his arms.
“Aw…” I sigh at the thought of how some people dare to treat animals. “Is he a Beagle? He has very long ears.”
“I think he’s probably a Bagel.”
I chuckle. “What’s that?”
“A Basset Hound/Beagle cross.”
“You made that up.”
“Maybe. He’s super cute but a bit traumatized.” Dane scratches the dog’s ear. “We’ll get him sorted out.” He looks at Queenie. “You picked up the Spoodle? She’s gorgeous.”
“Yeah, she’s going to be working with me as a therapy dog.”
“Oh, terrific. She’ll be great.”
“I hope so. Hey, has anyone spoken to you about PAWS?”
“Yeah, I love the sound of the animal-assisted therapy.”
“No, I mean personally, about working there.”
His eyebrows rise. “No. Why?”
“It’s just an idea, no worries at all if you’re not interested… but I’m starting to put together a team, and I wondered if you’d consider joining us.”
He stares at me, and I can see his brain working furiously. “Oh… in what role?”
“Well, we don’t have a vet yet. I wasn’t sure if we’d need one, as we’ll have close contact with the Ark, but the more I think about it, it would be useful to have one at the center to keep an eye on the animals’ health, and we think you’d be perfect.
Also… eventually we’re thinking about starting up an Outreach Program—we thought about having a Healing PAWS bus.
You know, taking the animals to schools, rural places, retirement villages, that sort of thing.
I thought it might be something you’d be interested in coordinating. ”
“Wow. I’m very flattered that you thought of me.”
“Hey, I’m not kidding, you’d be a catch for us.”
He glances at the Ark. “I don’t know how they’d feel about me going…”
“No need to worry about that. I’ve spoken to Noah, Leon, and Stefan about staffing, and it looks as if there’s going to be a lot of movement between the two centers.
It’ll be a couple of months before we’re fully up and running, and it’s possible that you might want to keep your hand in here, maybe working a few days at PAWS, and a few at the Ark?
Don’t know, but anyway, think about it, and if you’d like to come and have a look around and talk about it further, you’re very welcome to call me.
” I take a business card out of my pocket and hand it to him.
“I will.” He looks at it. “Thank you.”
“Tyr Donovan is coming tomorrow afternoon for a look around,” I add. “If you want to join him, he’ll be there around two p.m.”
“I might just do that. Thanks, Archer.”
“No worries. I’m taking Little Miss Queenie here home now, so have a great afternoon.”
“Yeah, you too.”
I wave goodbye and head off, pleased at Dane’s reaction.
When I get to my car, I fuss Queenie for a bit, then lift her onto the back seat and clip her collar to the dog seat belt. Chatting to her as I get in the front, I drive the short distance back to Sunrise Bay, my window down, enjoying the breeze and the view of the Bay of Islands on my right.
As I go past the farmstead, though, I notice something that wasn’t there this morning. Quickly checking my mirror so I don’t cause an accident, I break and pull over to park by the fence. Telling Queenie I’ll only be a moment, I get out of the car.
A large sign stands out the front. I ordered it shortly after buying the farmhouse. I didn’t know it was arriving today—Cullen or Isaac must have taken delivery and organized its erection.
I stand in front of it, my lips curving up.
At the top is a set of two dog pawprints next to two human footprints in a double circle—the new badge of the center.
Beneath that, in dark blue, are the words ‘People and Animals Wellbeing Society.’ We discussed whether Animals needed an apostrophe and decided not as it’s a title not a phrase showing possession.
And anyway, Cullen still insists it stands for People Are Wonderful Suckers, because we all keep adopting animals we’re not supposed to.
The words are written on separate lines, so the first letters, contrasted in red, are an acronym of the word PAWS, and then underneath it says ‘Animal-Assisted Therapy Center.’ Across the sign is a temporary laminated banner that states ‘Opening soon’.
It’s probably time I stopped calling the place the Hemsworth farmhouse. It’s now officially the PAWS Center.
I lean on the fence, thinking about my father. He set up his own law firm with a couple of colleagues and brought me up to believe that running your own business was about leaving something solid behind, something you could be proud of. Something your family could be proud of too.
Would he be proud of me?
I wonder if I would have worried about that less if I wasn’t an only son.
I have a sister, Kath, but she’s a lot older than me.
Mum nearly died giving birth to her, and doctors warned her not to have another baby.
Then, fifteen years later, I turned up. Mum always said I was a gift from God as she was in her forties when she got pregnant, implying my birth was a miracle, as if I was born to do something spectacular. No pressure, then.
But if I’d had an older brother, maybe he would have redirected Dad’s intense focus, the way Aragorn drew Sauron’s gaze in The Lord of the Rings from Frodo to himself. Perhaps Dad would then have left me to follow my own path, without me feeling him constantly watching me, judging me.
Then I feel a wave of shame. He was a good father, and it’s not fair to blame him for wanting me to do well in life. It’s my fault if I’ve fallen short of his expectations, professionally and personally.
Despite being pleased with the sign, as I look at it I feel a twinge of unease. My dream is beginning to take shape. It’s no longer an idea—it’s real. Visible. And it’s not just about me anymore. Other people are getting involved. Their livelihoods will depend on whether the center sinks or swims.
With that comes the uncomfortable truth that if I fail, there’s nobody else to blame.
I go back to the car and get in, then turn and ruffle Queenie’s fur. She licks my hand and stares at me with those big brown eyes, so like Beth’s, offering a love that’s simple, uncomplicated, and unconditional. I really need that right now.
I drive home wondering when my life became this serious, and whether I’m ready for it.