Chapter 19 Darío
I didn’t have to wait long to hear back from the rescue about Craig.
After they checked my references and had a virtual home tour, they told me I was approved and that I could pick him up the first week of September.
Now, I’m headed to Albany with Jules to meet my new dog.
I spent the last week making sure the house was puppy-proof and buying everything he could possibly need, and likely things he definitely doesn’t.
AJ came with me to the pet store, where I bought a dog bed, a crate, a variety of chew toys, treats, nail trimmers, a sweater for the fall, a collar, a leash, a food dish, a water fountain, and some balls to play fetch.
I also got doggy stairs so Craig doesn’t hurt his legs or back trying to get in and out of my bed.
That selection earned me a side-eye. I spent hours researching the best food for corgis before we went to the store. Who knew there were so many options?
“We have the leash and the collar, right?” I ask Jules, who is scrolling through my playlist, while I merge onto the thruway. Rather than answering me, he gives me the side-eye and continues his scrolling. “Bro.”
“Jesus, Darío. I told you I had it when we were walking out of the house. I answered you again before you pulled away from your house. If I tell you yes for a third time, will you stop fucking asking?” He grabs the items in question from the floor and waves them mockingly at me.
“Yes. The leash and the collar are still in the car.”
“Fuck off, Julian. I just don’t want to fuck anything up,” I grumble. I’m not sure what has me so nervous, but I am. Craig has had a rough start to life, and I want him to be happy with me. That shitty breeder should be shut down for how they treat their dogs.
“Hey, calm down. Everything is going to be fine. You’re bringing home a dog, not an infant.
At least dogs listen. Kids are a nightmare,” Julian jokes.
He’s not wrong, but the mention of kids makes me think of Harlan.
We hadn’t discussed it much, but we agreed that after I retired, we’d foster older kids.
Babies are weird. They smell weird, and they’re really floppy. Floppy babies make me nervous.
“I know. Anyway, what’s up with your party?” Jules turns thirty in a few weeks, and he’s planning a huge party to celebrate.
“Actually,” he hedges, “I wanted to talk to you about that. Two things, really. The guest list has gotten a little bigger than I expected, and I don’t think my small-ass condo is going to cut it.”
“Your condo isn’t small,” I tell him. It’s really not, but I do understand. It can get pretty crowded even with a small group of us hanging out. “If you want to have it at my place, you know you’re more than welcome. You are on cleanup duty, though.”
My living room is spacious, and the sectional that Harlan and I picked out seats eight people comfortably.
I also have an oversized recliner. The basement is an open-floor plan, with a theater-room setup that has a lot of seating, too.
It’s way too much house for one person, so I’m happy to host. The space was one of the selling points when I bought it.
Being there alone feels lonely. The emptiness mocks me—another reminder of what it was supposed to be.
“Thanks, Dare. The other thing is maybe not going to be so easy. So, I want to start by saying you can say no, and I won’t be upset.
” I take my eyes off the road briefly to see Jules wringing his hands in his lap.
“With Harlan being back in New York, I’d like to invite him to the party.
I already asked Penny if she’d like to come, but I didn’t want to ask Harlan without checking with you first.”
I don’t even have to think about it. “Relax, Julian. Of course you can invite him. I’m not sure how he’ll feel about it, but I have no issues with it.” I hear him release his breath, and I think we’re done with the conversation.
“You realize that his boyfriend is in New York, yeah?” he asks.
“No, I actually had no idea. Other than a brief text last month, I haven’t talked to Harlan at all. Does he live here now?” My stomach twists in knots at the thought, but I shake it off. It’s none of my business. “Are you asking if you can invite his boyfriend?”
“I mean, I feel like it would be a dick move to tell Harlan he can come but Oliver can’t, you know?
” Julian sounds unsure. “And, to answer your question, no, he’s not living here.
He’s working out here for the month, but he’s going back to San Francisco.
” It would obviously be a bit strange to have this man in my house, but it’s not like he’s the one Harlan cheated on me with.
And it’s been almost a year since we split up, so there’s no reason for me to care.
“If he wants to bring Oliver, that’s fine.
We’re all adults, and it’s not like Harlan and I are on bad terms,” I say.
The thought of Harlan stepping foot in the place that we called home together for over two years weighs heavily on me.
“Just let me know how many people to expect and warn them that parking can be a bitch.”
Switching topics, I recap what the doctor said about my hand.
It finally healed enough to remove the cast, and I’m starting therapy.
It took longer than the doctors expected, but at least I’ve avoided surgery.
When we fall into silence, I mentally check off all the things I’ve done to make sure I’m ready to bring Craig home.
Almost two hours later, we are pulling up to a white farmhouse, complete with a wraparound porch and a porch swing.
The house is surrounded by green grass and fruit trees for as far as the eye can see.
Upstate has clearly had a rainy summer for their grass to be this green in early September.
“It reminds me of Avery’s farm,” Julian observes. Avery is AJ’s younger sister. We’ve spent a lot of time at her farm upstate. Jules is particularly fond of the area, and he begs AJ to take him there often.
“It does,” I agree, parking next to a pickup truck by the detached garage.
“Cows!” Jules exclaims, as if the man has never seen a farm animal in his life. “Dare, there are cows! Do you think they’ll let me pet them?”
“I’m sure if you ask nicely,” I reply, as though I were speaking to a toddler instead of an adult. “Look, Jules. They have horses, too!” He flips me off and rushes out of the car, my laughter trailing him.
An older white woman is standing on the porch when we approach. She’s probably in her sixties, and she’s holding a wiggling corgi that is not Craig. “Hi, I’m Ann. You must be Darío,” she greets us, looking at me.
“Yes, I’m Darío. It’s so nice to meet you in person, Ann. This is my friend Julian.” I indicate Julian, who is staring at the cows with barely contained excitement.
“Can I pet your cows?” he asks, making me groan, but Ann thankfully laughs. His lack of filter is one of the more endearing things about him.
“Sure, they’re pretty friendly. They haven’t tried to attack anyone recently,” she deadpans.
Julian’s eyes go wide, and Ann laughs harder.
“They’re harmless. If you’d like to go meet the cows, I’ll take Darío to meet Craig.
” She scratches the ears of the pup she’s holding, earning her a lick to the chin.
“No kisses, Hot Wheels. Your breath stinks.”
“I’m sorry, did you just call that dog Hot Wheels?” Julian’s attention leaves the field and focuses on the squirming tri-color Corgi in Ann’s arms. “That is the coolest fu…fudging name for a dog. Dare, you should adopt Hot Wheels.” How bad would adopting two dogs be?
“Yes, his name is courtesy of my six-year-old grandson. He was supposed to be adopted today, but the application fell through. Come inside, I’ll introduce you to your pup.
” Ann leads us through the house to a room toward the back.
There are four corgis occupying the space.
I immediately spot Craig sleeping in a dog bed by the window, while the other three tug on rope toys in the center of the hardwood floor.
“Craig,” Ann coos, and he opens his one eye before charging across the floor, nails clacking loudly.
As I kneel on the floor, Craig doesn’t hesitate to launch himself into my lap with all the enthusiasm that corgis are known for.
My heart feels ready to burst, looking at his sweet face as he eagerly tries to climb my torso to lick my face.
“Where do I sign?” I smile at Ann, knowing that I will be bringing home my best friend today.