Chapter 3 Chris
CHRIS
We were walking back to the hospital. I was carrying a large brown paper bag full of leftover bread.
We’d sat in the café for two hours talking about books. Arguing about books, actually.
“I don’t care what you say,” she said, pulling her hoodie out of her backpack while we walked. “The movie is never as good as the book.”
“There are some decent ones out there,” I said.
“Yeah, but the percentage is so low it barely counts. The ratings have to back it up. Same with books. Just because it’s hyped up on social media doesn’t mean I’m reading it. It has to have good reviews. Or if somebody I trust recommends it, then I’ll ignore the reviews and read it anyway.”
“And if somebody you trust recommends it and it’s bad?” I put out a hand to take her bag while she pulled on her hoodie.
“Then I don’t trust them again,” she said, pulling her head through the neck hole.
“Do you have someone who’s never failed you?”
“Nope. Why? You want to recommend a book to me? You think you have what it takes?” She grinned.
“I don’t know, that sounds like a pretty high-stakes game. What are you reading right now,” I asked.
“You wouldn’t have heard of it,” she said, taking her backpack.
“Try me.”
She gave me a cocked eyebrow. “You read that much?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Are you one of those people who reads a five-hundred-page book in three hours?”
“I actually am one of those people,” I admitted. “Only it’s more like a three-hundred-page book in three hours. I’m fast but not that fast.”
She gawked at me. “How?”
“I just process things quickly? I don’t know. I got faster over the years.”
“How many books do you read a year?” she asked.
“Between two and three hundred?”
“Chris!”
“What?” I chuckled.
“That is so many.”
“Yeah. I like reading. I read instead of TV.”
“Okay, now I do want you to recommend a book to me.”
“Okay,” I said. “You recommend one to me too.”
“Cross Stitch by J. C. Vale,” she said without thinking about it.
I stopped walking to blink at her. “You’ve read Cross Stitch?”
Now it was her turn to look surprised. “You’ve read it?”
“Yes.” My heart was actually pounding.
“I read it twice,” she said. “I loved it. I’ve never had anyone to talk to about it.”
Cross Stitch was an out-of-print sci-fi novel from 1986. A mass-market paperback I’d found on my dad’s nightstand. It was one of the first books I remember loving as a kid. I felt like she’d just unlocked some secret door into my soul.
“Where’d you get it?” I asked in complete disbelief.
“Yard sale. This lady had a big box of old paperbacks. I bought the whole thing for five bucks.”
“What else was in there?”
She hit the crosswalk button. “Really good stuff. You should come look through it, see if you want any. But you have to give them back when you’re done because I’m not finished reading all of them and I don’t read six books a day.”
I smiled at the jab. “Maybe I can take a look when I drop you off?” I said.
“Sure.”
We smiled at each other.
She tilted her head. “You know, the night I met you I thought you were different,” she said.
I drew my brows down. “Different how?”
“You seemed sort of crabby. You’re not though.”
“I did?”
“Yeah. Like, you were tired and impatient to just get home. That’s why I went with Mike. I mean, now that I know what was going on, I get it. The stuff with your mom. But you really are different.”
I felt my expression fall the tiniest bit. “I wouldn’t have minded driving you home.”
“Like you didn’t mind coming today?” She gave me a playful look.
“I didn’t mind coming today,” I said honestly. At least I didn’t now.
The walking sign came on. “And what would you have done if I hadn’t come?” I asked, crossing the street with her.
“I would have figured it out.”
“Figured it out how?”
“I would have let Mom drive us here. Then I would have learned stick in the parking lot while she was in surgery.”
“Really,” I said. “Just learn stick in the parking lot.”
“You don’t think I can learn stick in three hours? A lifetime can happen in three hours.”
I peered at her a moment. She was right. A lifetime could happen in three hours.
We were making our way around the side of the hospital by the service entrance when something made a noise by the dumpsters.
“Did you hear that?” Larissa said, stopping.
“Yeah, what was it?” I said, looking around.
More noise. Then growling.
“There’s something by the trash cans,” she said.
Something gray darted from the shadows and disappeared again.
“I’m going to check it out,” she said.
“Uh, no.”
“I want to see what it is,” she insisted.
“It’s a raccoon, and it could have rabies.”
She kept walking.
“Larissa, I’m serious—”
She turned to me with her arms crossed. “What if it’s a kitten?”
“It’s growling. What if it’s distemper?”
She laughed and turned back around and kept going.
“Larissa!”
She ignored me. I slumped and jogged after her. “You know it’s six rabies shots for animal bites—”
“Good thing we’re already at the hospital.”
Then the creature popped its head out. We both came to an abrupt halt.
It was a small, absolutely filthy dog.
When it saw us, it ran over, cropped tail wagging, and bounced happily off our shins.
She gasped. “Oh my God! Chris, a puppy!” She bent over to pet it, and it made excited whining noises.
I crouched, relieved it wasn’t a wild animal. “Hey, little guy…”
His fur was crusty and smelled terrible.
She glanced over to where he’d come from. “He was eating a turkey leg.”
I couldn’t even tell what breed because his fur was so matted. A Yorkie or a Maltese maybe?
The dog ping-ponged between us. Larissa was close enough that I could smell her again. Tangerines. I watched her smiling at this dog a moment longer than I probably should have. I cleared my throat and forced my gaze away. That’s when I noticed the bleach stain on the cuff of her U of M hoodie.
“Where’d you get your sweatshirt?” I said, ruffling the dog’s ears.
She looked down at it. “It’s Mike’s.”
“I think that’s actually mine…”
She blinked at me for a second. Then her cheeks flushed pink. “Oh my God—I’m so sorry. I found it in Mike’s truck. I didn’t even really look at it—”
She was already pulling her arms out of the sleeves.
“No no, keep it for now or you’ll be cold. Just give it to me later.”
She stopped, one empty sleeve dangling pitifully. “I can’t.”
I laughed a little. “You can. Seriously. Just hang on to it. Give it to me whenever.”
She looked mortified.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I don’t care.”
I picked up the dog and stood. “I can take him to Xavier and see if he’s chipped.”
Her cheeks were still pink, but she put her arm back into the sleeve. “What do we do with him in the meantime? We can’t take him into the hospital.”
And then, like it was his cue to magically appear, Mike pulled up in his truck, tapping the horn. He rolled the window down. “Hey, there you are. I made it!”
He threw his gray F-150 into park and jumped out. Then he came right at Larissa and pulled her into a bear hug. I took two steps back to give them space.
“Hi,” he whispered, holding her. “How you doing?”
“Good,” she said. “She’s almost out of surgery. We were heading back.”
He pulled away and brushed the hair off her forehead.
“Are you feeling better?” she asked.
“Still not a hundred percent, but I had to be here. Got you and Nancy some flowers in the truck.”
Larissa beamed at him. “Awww.”
He looked over at me. “Who’s this little guy?” he asked, nodding at the dog.
“We found him,” Larissa said.
Mike came over and scratched under the dog’s chin. “He’s cute. Kinda gross though.” Then he looked at his watch. “Hey, we should probably get going.”
He opened the passenger door. “Hop in. I’ll drive you around the front.” He made a little bow. “Your chariot.”
She looked over at me. “Chris, thank you again.”
I nodded. “Yeah. You’re welcome.”
“You’ll take him to the vet?” she asked.
“Definitely.”
“I’ll get your number from Mike. To check on him.”
“Okay.”
She waved, Mike closed her door, and she was gone. Vanished behind the tinted windows.
Mike turned and hugged me now, crushing the dog between us while he slapped me on the back. “Thanks, man. You saved the day.”
“Yup. No problem,” I croaked.
He let me go and held me out by the shoulders. “You can take off. I got it from here.”
“I could come back after I take the dog—”
“Nah, we’re good.”
I nodded but didn’t move. I felt whiplashed for some reason. Like a rug had been pulled out from under me.
I turned to go. Then I stopped. “You know how you asked me what you could do to pay me back for this?”
“Yeah. Anything. Name it.”
“Get her car out of the shop.”
He looked at me like I was speaking in tongues. “That’s gonna be a couple thousand bucks,” he said, lowering his voice. “That thing is fucked—”
“I don’t care. That’s my price for today. She needs it, and she can’t afford it.”
“I mean, I can’t afford it either—”
“Go work for Tony. Pick up some shifts. He’s always looking for help on the overnight emergency calls. Take a few of those, they’re overtime.”
He threw his head back and groaned. “I hate working for Tony. You know that.”
“I covered for you,” I said quietly. “I lied for you. Do it. And if you don’t do it, I will. And then I’m going to tell her the truth about why you didn’t pick her up.”
He put his hands up. “Jesus, all right, all right.”
“I’m calling her tomorrow to check in. She better have her car by then.”
“Okay. God, why you being such a dick?”
“I don’t like lying to people. And you should have been here. This was a bad day for her. If you don’t want to fuck it up with her, don’t fuck it up.”
He didn’t look happy, but he nodded.
“I’m leaving,” I said, shifting the dog in my arms. “Don’t call me for anything else unless it’s after ten a.m. And make sure she takes this home,” I said, handing him the brown bag of bread from the café.
“Why do you have so much bread?”
“No calls before ten,” I said again, walking away.
“I love you!” he yelled after me.
“Yeah, yeah.” I waved him off.
I took the dog home. Stopped at the gas station on the way and grabbed a couple cans of food. Xavier’s animal hospital didn’t open for another hour, so I decided to clean the dog up a little while I waited. I realized I’d have to shave him before I could wash him, so I got out my clippers.
Wherever this dog came from, it wasn’t good and it hadn’t been good in a really long time.
His fur was caked in dog shit and he had fleas.
His nails were so long they were curled under.
He was sweet though. Friendly. He let me shave him and then sat for a bath in the laundry room sink without any issues.
Once I got all the fleas and fur off, I realized how small he was. Five, maybe six pounds tops. Not a puppy, just tiny.
I fed him, played with him for a bit. Then I went to lie down and he took a nap on my chest.
This day had taken a very strange turn.
Larissa had looked nice in my hoodie.
And that I should definitely not be thinking about. I felt instantly bad.
I made a mental apology to her and got up and drove to see Xavier.
Xavier had moved to California with his wife last year.
We didn’t get to see him much anymore, but he was in town for a few weeks to cover for Hank, the doctor who ran his Minnesota Veterinary Hospital, while Hank recovered from a knee replacement.
It was nice to get to hang out with my friend again, especially with everything I had going on.
“Yorkie. Maybe four, five years old,” Xavier said. “No chip. Probably came from a hoarding situation. He’s not skittish enough to be from a puppy mill. They just rescued thirty dogs from a house near where you found him. I bet he was a straggler.”
“Is he healthy?”
“Considering,” he said dryly. “He’s got urine burns on his paws. He’s got worms. We’ll treat that now and get his nails clipped. Heartworm test is clear, so that’s good. He could gain a pound or two.” He pulled off his gloves and tossed them in the trash. “What are you gonna do with him?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. You know any animal rescues?”
“I know a lot, but they’re pretty overwhelmed right now. Best thing you could do is keep him.”
I laughed a little. “I can’t keep him.”
He crossed his arms and leaned on the exam table. “Why not?”
“Uh, because I work?”
He nodded at the dog. “You think this dog being home alone sleeping on a chaise for eight hours is worse than what he came from? Have you seen the shelters right now? They don’t even have cages. They’ve got the dogs lined up in the hallway stacked in crates.”
I dragged a hand down my mouth. “I don’t know…”
“Look, take him home. Ask around, post on socials, maybe someone will want him. Nobody’s coming for this dog. You are all he has.”
All he has…
An orphan. I looked down at the tiny thing and went quiet.
Xavier eyed me like he knew what I was thinking.
Maybe he did.
“You been doing okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. Fine.”
I felt him study me. “She was a good lady, Chris.”
I nodded, but I couldn’t look at him. “She really was.”
Even if I didn’t know her like I thought I did.
My cell phone pinged and I pulled it out. It was Larissa.
Can I come over and see the dog and drop off your hoodie?
I smiled a little at the phone.
Today was the first time in a long time I felt normal. Or at least the first time that I didn’t think about Mom for a period long enough to count.
The way it ended. How.
My parents had me late in life. Dad was eighty-three when he passed from his heart attack four years ago and Mom was turning seventy-nine this year.
I’d kept it vague when I’d told the guys she was dying, but I think Xavier had an idea of what happened.
He was a doctor, knew enough to glean the truth of it, even if I didn’t spell it out.
I didn’t volunteer it and he didn’t ask me.
I was glad. Because I wasn’t ready to say any of it out loud.
At least not outside of therapy and the grief support group I went to.
I stared at Larissa’s text asking if she could come see the dog.
That was the woman my best friend was seeing, and Larissa and I weren’t close enough for her to come over like that.
Maybe if Mike was coming with her, she could stop by and see the dog.
Bring me the hoodie. The same went with the books she wanted me to check out.
Maybe if I’d been the one to drop her off today like we’d planned, it wouldn’t be weird to come inside the house for a second and look at the paperbacks she’d offered.
But that’s not what happened.
Me: Come with Mike the next time he comes over.
I turned off the screen and put my phone away.
We got the dog treated and I went home.
The next day I did follow up with Mike. He paid for Larissa’s car like I asked. And a few days later, they were relationship official.