Chapter 3 #2
On Main Street, I slow to the red light and push out a breath.
Kona is snoozing loudly in the back, which is not surprising.
The combination of her being like an infant that’s soothed by a car ride, the pain medication, and her favorite nap place being in the Jeep is the perfect cocktail since I need to kill an hour before Josie comes over.
Josie’s coming to my place.
A few blocks past the light, I thank my lucky stars that a parking spot just opened up in front of Zoey’s Bakery. I leave the Jeep running as I step onto the sidewalk and cup my eyes to peer in the back window. Good. Kona is completely out cold.
The bell jingles against the door handle as I open it, and I walk inside to the warm, brightly lit bakery.
Normally, the soft pinks and whites of Zoey’s Bakery, along with the sweet fog of chocolate, cinnamon, and dough, bring me a little bit of comfort.
It’s hard for me to warm up to places, and even harder for me to find places that I like that also allow dogs.
Zoey’s is both of those things, but today, I know it’s not going to give me any reprieve.
“Hey, Colby,” Zoey says, as she wipes her flour-dusted hand on her apron. “Where’s Kona?”
I nod my head towards the Jeep. “Sleeping, thankfully. She just had surgery on her leg, and we’re on our way home.”
“Oh, that was today? I knew it was coming up, but wasn’t sure which exact date.” Zoey pushes her glasses up her nose and slides open the display case. “How did she do?”
“She did great.”
Zoey hovers tongs over my usual chocolate and raspberry cupcake. “And how did you do?”
Terrible. I know we only left there fifteen minutes ago, but the fear-laced adrenaline that rushed through my veins is still bubbling right below the surface.
My stomach is so twisted that the cupcake that Zoey’s holding, which normally makes me salivate like a puppy with a jerky stick, looks damn near unappetizing.
“I was a nervous wreck, honestly. But… it ended up being okay.”
Zoey doesn’t know about Amelia. No one in this town knows about my past and couldn’t possibly draw the parallels I did between Amelia’s surgery and Kona’s. But still, she gives me a kind, sympathetic nod and points to the cupcake. “The usual?”
“Um, two, this time.” I take a step back and scan the display case.
The desserts here are actually quite beautiful, but I’ve never taken the time to really look.
Cupcakes with edible flowers, desserts that look like a pink-bowed gift, macaroons with edible glitter.
Does Josie like cookies? Pastries? Cupcakes?
I scratch the back of my neck, my fatigued brain swirling with too many decisions I need to make. “And maybe… some cookies?”
The tongs stop midair and Zoey’s eyebrows shoot up sky-high.
“Two, huh? And cookies?” I know she wants to ask.
The week after I moved to Minnesota, I discovered Zoey’s Bakery.
I’ve stopped in here at least once a week for six years and have only ever had one dessert, and it’s always been the chocolate and raspberry cupcake.
A heat creeps up my neck and lands on my cheeks, and I don’t even know why.
This really is not a blush-inducing moment, and yet, here I am, flaming pink.
“You probably won’t remember this, but last year, I ran into you and a friend on the sidewalk. ”
“Quinn?” Zoey asks, referring to her girlfriend, as she puts the food in a small box.
“No,” I say as I dig out my credit card from my wallet. “Josie.”
Zoey stops mid-cookie shuffle and stares with the blankest of blank faces, so much so that a nervous smile flushes my lips. “Josie?” she asks, still frozen.
“Yeah, Josie,” I say as I slide over to the register. “I assume you already know this since you’re friends and all, but Josie works at the vet clinic where Kona had her surgery. Anyway, she offered to come to my place and help me lift Kona out of the Jeep because her leg is too hurt for the ramp.”
“Wow. Josie, huh?” She finally puts all the pastries in the box and slaps a piece of tape to close it up.
I wish I knew Zoey a little better so I could decode whatever this look is that she’s giving me.
Not happy, not sad, not upset. More contemplative?
Or curious? Sure, I only saw Zoey and Josie together last year for a brief moment, and I have no idea how close they are, but it’s obvious they know each other.
“Well, yes, she certainly loves animals,” Zoey says and rings up the order. “There isn’t anyone else you can ask?”
Second time in a day that someone has asked me this, and it doesn’t really feel any better than the first time I was asked. I shouldn’t be sheepish at this question. This is how I designed my life, and what I want.
I think.
“No, just me and Kona and whatever goblins come out in the forest at night.”
“And Josie’s coming to your house to help you?”
I nod. I mean, yes, I already know it’s weird that the woman from the vet office is helping me, but Zoey seems really weirded out by it.
Am I that detached from how healthy, functioning adults operate in society?
Perhaps. But I’m already nervous enough, and this isn’t helping.
“I can say hi to her from you if you’d like?
” I say, with some sort of misguided peace offering to defuse whatever is happening right now.
A moment passes on Zoey’s face when she smiles. “Oh, ah, sure. That’s… nice of you.”
Okay, well, now, it’s confirmed—I’m giving off some funky vibes based on this weird encounter.
And it shouldn’t shock me. I’ve been off this whole week.
And today, I swore at Josie at the vet clinic, broke down and sobbed into my dog’s fur, clung to her like she had just returned from deployment, and had flashbacks to the worst day of my life.
Back in the Jeep, Kona is still snoring loudly. I run my gloved palm against the steering wheel as I sit and think. I’m having a woman to my house. And it’s fine. I know it’s fine. But there’s a feeling in me that creeping in, threatening to invade my every cell.
Because right now, even though it’s technically fine, everything feels very, very wrong.