Chapter 19
M y first day back to work the following week is a train wreck.
I’m a Heavy Construction Equipment Operator for the roads, which basically means I need to be lucid and clear-headed as fuck.
I operate tractor trailers, bulldozers, cranes, and a variety of other big ass vehicles to patch concrete, repair highways and bridges, and haul toxic materials around.
The heavens decided to rain down an ice storm today in honor of my first day back, so I had triple the anxiety.
It was nearly impossible to stay focused as I tried to remember controls and protocols, while also having to fake-smile my way through the day and answer a thousand questions pertaining to my close encounter with a serial killer.
But I survived.
The weather is clearing up as I pull off my hard hat and hop into the rental car provided by my insurance company.
It’s a shitty Honda, but it’ll do for now.
I let out the sigh it feels like I’ve been holding in all day and collapse into the driver’s seat, drained and exhausted.
I’m also fidgety and edgy from my alcohol detox.
I haven’t touched a drop of liquor since the double date from hell over a week ago at The Oar.
I’m trying. I’m really fucking trying.
As I’m about to put the car in drive, my phone starts to ring, and Cora’s name and number pop up on my Bluetooth screen.
I squint my eyes to make sure I’m seeing correctly and that impaired vision isn’t a side effect of the withdrawals.
Cora and I haven’t spoken much over the last week, aside from a few casual text messages and some Facebook engagement.
She filled me in on her first days back to work teaching at the school, and I told her about my upcoming start date, which was today. Basics. Normalcy.
Nothing that would indicate we barely escaped death two months ago, and certainly no reference to our emotional encounter in her car when she told me to leave her the hell alone because I was killing her.
Even though she took it back, I’m still giving her space.
For her, and for me.
I click accept, thinking she’s calling to inquire about my first day back. “Hello?”
I can make out the faint sound of sniffles on the other end of the line. “Dean?”
“Cora?” My heart goes into overdrive, my chest flooding with thousands of harrowing scenarios. “Are you okay?”
“I-I’m sorry to call you. I know it’s your first day back to work, and I was just going to leave you a voicemail, but…” She tries to catch her breath, small sobs breaking through. “It’s Blizzard.”
I blink, absorbing her words.
Oh, shit.
“Blizzard? What happened?”
“She had a seizure or something. It was bad, Dean—we couldn’t snap her out of it. I’m at the emergency clinic and they say she’s totally unresponsive.” Cora starts crying, hiccupping through her words. “They said we need to consider euthanasia.”
Fuck . This can’t be happening. I pinch the bridge of my nose, then trail my fingers through my hair, tugging at the roots. “Shit, Corabelle. Tell me which hospital and I’m on my way.”
“Are you sure? I know you’re working…”
“My shift is up. I want to be there.”
Her sigh of relief kisses me through the Bluetooth. “We’re at Care .”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
I disconnect the call and drive at least ten over the speed limit, my mind reeling, until I careen into the lot and park like a jackass, taking up two spaces.
I run through the main entrance and find Cora and her parents huddled together in the waiting room.
Cora stands as soon as she spots me coming towards her and we’re yanked together like magnets, pulling each other into a tearful embrace.
I smile at the Lawsons over Cora’s shoulder.
Derek has his hand on Bridget’s knee, while Bridget blows her nose into a tissue.
“I’m so sorry, Cora,” I whisper against her ear, feeling the way she tightens her hold around my midsection in response. “How much time do we have?”
“They’re waiting for us in the… room,” Cora sniffs, pulling back to glance at me through red-rimmed eyes.
She swipes at the tears along her cheekbone.
“Mandy’s at work. She said it was too hard to be here.
Mom and Dad are going to wait out here, but…
did you want to come in with me? To say goodbye? ”
“Of course.”
I don’t hesitate. We rescued this dog together, and I’ll be damned if I’m not with Cora when Blizzard takes her last breath.
Goddamn .
Cora gives a tight nod, then alerts one of the staff that we’re ready to go in.
I follow her, a solemn silence settling between us.
It’s a quiet, peaceful room, adorned with electronic candles and soft music.
Blizzard is lying very still on a dog bed in the center of the floor, her fluffy chest heaving ever so slowly with each breath.
I feel my emotions get stuck in my throat when I lay eyes on the dog that has felt like my own for the last ten years.
I’d dog-sit her when the Lawsons took family vacations.
I’d take her to the dog park with Mandy and Cora, watching her chase tennis balls and make new friends.
Blizzard always greeted me first when I’d walk through the front door with Mandy, collapsing onto my feet and rolling over for belly rubs.
She always sat beside me at the dinner table, waiting for the snack I’d inevitably offer her, and she always wagged her tail in adoration as I sang karaoke in the Lawson’s living room.
Her tail never seemed quite as enthusiastic when everyone else sang.
The technician talks us through the process in a kind voice, letting us know to take as much time as we need. There’s a button we need to press when we’re ready.
When we’re ready to let her go.
Cora kneels beside her dog, resting a shaky palm against Blizzard’s ivory fur. I kneel down next to her, doing the same, our shoulders melding together as our own respective memories sail through us.
“She was acting funny the night Mandy and I were getting ready for her birthday party. Bumping into things, walking in circles, panting more than usual,” Cora whispers, our fingers brushing together as we stroke Blizzard’s tummy. “Do you think she was sick and waited for us to come home?”
Cora looks up at me with big eyes as tears track down her rosy cheeks. I swallow, holding back my own grief, trying to be strong. “Yes. She couldn’t go without saying goodbye to her favorite people. ”
Cora links her index finger with my pinky, resting her head against my shoulder as her body trembles with fresh tears. I snake my other arm around her, bringing her as close as I can, then twist my head to plant a kiss against her hair.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she murmurs, wiping her tears away with her sleeve.
“I never thought I’d hear you say that.”
I relish in the small, hoarse laugh that escapes her as her finger squeezes mine.
I press the button a few minutes later and the veterinarian steps inside with her cart. It’s a cart of death. The doctor explains what’s going to happen, that it will be peaceful and painless, that the medicine will stop Blizzard’s heart and she will fade away.
I can’t help but feel like that’s a perfect way to go.
It’s an emotional few minutes as we watch the dog’s chest rise and ebb until she releases her final breath, surrounded by her rescuers—surrounded by love.
Fuck , I think I might lose it.
The doctor issues us her condolences and begins to drag the cart out of the room. “Blizzard was a wonderful family member, Miss Lawson. I’m very sorry for your loss. I’ll let you and your boyfriend say your final goodbyes now. Feel free to step out whenever you’re ready. There’s no rush.”
Boyfriend . I suppose we do look like two grieving lovers, pressed up against each other, fingers intertwined. Cora doesn’t correct the mistake as the door clicks closed.
When an eerie silence fills the room and I glance down at Blizzard, lifeless and unmoving, something in my heart clenches.
My bones physically ache and my lungs fill with impossible grief.
I lean back against the wooden bench behind me, inhaling a few shuddering breaths, and then I let go.
I press my palm over my face as tears sting my eyes, spilling out, depositing into the cracks of my fingers.
Cora immediately scoots backwards on the floor, sliding up beside me and leaning in.
She wraps both arms around me and presses her cheek to my chest, holding me as I cry my fucking heart out over this fluffy little friend I’m going to miss the hell out of, and so much more.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” I breathe out, hating the way my voice splits and wavers as I scrub a hand over my face.
“You loved her,” Cora whispers against my neon work vest, her fingers clutching the shirt underneath. “It’s nothing to be sorry about. ”
She raises her head to look at me and our eyes lock together, something heavy and potent and commanding passing between our souls.
Cora touches the pads of her fingertips to the side of my face, that is still damp with my grief.
I grit my teeth together, unsure of how to process the moment or the strange, bewitching energy hovering in the air.
I stare at her, taking in her runny makeup, glossy eyes, and pink mouth.
Her cheekbones are flushed with sadness and her hair is a mess, sticking up like she just got zapped by something.
Maybe she did.
Cora leans up on her knees, then ever so softly, without warning, presses her lips against my mouth… just barely. It’s a feather-light kiss.
A flutter, a buzz—like hummingbird wings. Beautiful and curious.
She pulls back, her eyes widening slightly, a frown creasing her brow like she’s dazed and bewildered. Her tongue pokes out to wet her lips and she breaks eye contact, falling back to the floor and clearing her throat. “Sorry. I don’t know why I did that.”