Chapter 3 #2
It’s been a week since I started the petting zoo online. I’m not getting any donations or interest. In fact, no one seems to care at all. I guess, there are a million petting zoos nearby, and Bronco’s isn’t that special.
My big idea was a big failure, and I don’t know how to fix that. I want so desperately to save the community center. I can’t stand the idea that everything Aunt Elaine has built is about to come crashing down.
But these aren’t things I can tell Bree. I can’t tell anyone that. Even if I hadn’t sworn my secrecy to Aunt Elaine, I don’t want members of the staff panicking. No, it’s better that I shoulder this burden alone.
“You can tell me anything,” Bree says.
I rotate my glass, watching the wine swirl. “There’s nothing to tell. It’s the same old sad story. Girl hopelessly in love with her brother’s best friend pines quietly.”
“Seems like it might be more than that,” she presses.
I swallow hard. I can’t tell her the full truth, so I settle on the things I can share. “It’s a bruise on my heart when I see him. But when I don’t see him, it hurts too.”
Before she can respond, the back door swings open, and Dalton strides into the kitchen.
He’s got dirt on his flannel, and he’s wearing his usual scowl.
But the moment he sees Bree, all of his features light up.
He crosses the room to her in three quick steps and plants a big kiss on her face, oblivious to his audience.
“Dalton…” Bree calls his name in a half moan, half-chastisement. “I have my best friend over.”
His gaze flicks to me and immediately back to his wife. “Hi, Lauren. Do you have any objections to me kissing my own wife in my own home?”
I chuckle. “Zero objections.”
“See? She doesn’t care.”
She swats his shoulder. “Let me get back to girl talk. Go wash up.”
When he leaves the room, she turns her attention back to me. Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are filled with so much light that it makes me hurt with unfulfilled longing. “You’ll stay for dinner, right?”
After a quiet dinner with the three of us, Dalton announces that he’s going on a hike and takes the dogs with him. She waves her hand when he’s gone, indicating the back door. “Sorry, he’s so…”
“Completely in love with you?” I answer with a small smile of my own.
He barely talked through dinner. It’s obvious Dalton isn’t much of a conversationalist, so I didn’t take it personally.
He mainly spent the meal tracking Bree’s movements like she’s the sun, moon, and stars.
She’s his own personal universe, wrapped up in one sunshine package.
She chuckles. “It’s mutual.”
By the time Dalton returns hours later, Bree and I have finished a bottle of wine together. She’s convinced me to stay over for the night even though we both know if she asked, he would drive me back down the mountain.
I’m still puzzling over what to do about the petting zoo and how to help the retirement community back at my desk the next morning. The reception door swings open and Dalton and Bree come in together.
I left their cabin early this morning. Bree said they were right behind me, but guessing by her flushed face and pleased expression, Dalton took them on a little detour. Ugh, newlyweds.
As soon as I think the uncharitable thought, I drop my gaze to my computer and pretend to be busy with patient files. Bree is my best friend. My annoyance with her and Dalton isn’t her fault. It has nothing to do with them at all.
They hurry to Bree’s office which is roughly the size of a utility closet and disappear inside but it’s not soundproof in there, and I can hear her giggling.
I glance toward Ryan’s desk to see if he’s irritated with them.
He’s wearing earbuds and flicking glances between his book and the monitors.
I wish my job meant I could put in earbuds too.
I pull up the website for the petting zoo and sigh. Maybe I should have gone for one of those fundraising websites. Maybe that was the whole problem after all.
“No, we can’t do that.”
She giggles again.
I click on the about page. Perhaps if I rewrote the words. No one has ever accused me of being an amazing writer. That could be the problem.
“Because we’re not animals, that’s why not! Well, maybe you are!”
More giggles.
The petting zoo. Animals. Bronco.
I wonder what Bronco would be like if I got him alone and he had no inhibitions, would he be an animal?
Wait, is that it? Instead of a petting zoo, maybe I should auction cowboys. After all, I’d much rather bid on a cowboy than go to a petting zoo.
Content with my new idea, I grab another domain name and quickly put together a website. I start with Bronco, just to gauge interest. I have to look through my sneaky collection of photos of him that I absolutely do not take when he’s not looking.
After I find a good one on my phone, I upload it to the website and close the browser. Nothing will happen. I’ll probably have to scrap this idea too.
Before I can think too much on that, Joyce calls me on the line for the front desk.
She’s a resident, and she needs help. I hurry back to her room and walk her through the steps on her smartphone of how to order cookies from Courage Cookies for her and the friends who are about to play poker together.
Apparently, they’ve taken to using cookies instead of poker chips.
“Makes everything more interesting,” Joyce confides in me with a wink.
I spend the rest of the day bouncing between tasks for the residents. I barely have time to sit back down at the front desk though I manage to stay on top of the phone messages. Even though it’s chaotic and crazy, I love that I get to spend my days helping the residents with various tasks.
It’s everything from assisting residents with their smartphones to finding Mr. Dunn’s lost TV remote to trying desperately to get Mrs. Snyder’s parrot to stop swearing at top volume.
She insists it’s the fault of her teenage grandson who taught him “that foul language” but then she breaks into giggles every time he swears, so I’m not entirely sure she’s telling me the truth.
It’s just after five o’clock when I finally get the chance to check the auction site. That’s when I see, Cuddle a Cowboy has gotten tens of thousands of views. And bids. So many bids on Bronco.
“Holy shit,” I mutter, staring at the screen. It’s not enough to save the place, but it’s more than I imagined I could make from auctioning one cowboy. Now, all I have to do is auction ten more just like him, and I could save the retirement community.