62. Simone
Simone
I feel like a nervous wreck walking up to my front door with Mason.
Sure, he’s met my parents before…but this is different. This isn’t—Hey, meet my friend Mason. This is—Hey, Mason is my…boyfriend?
Mason is my boyfriend.
I think I need to wrap my head around that first.
Mason squeezes my hand, making me look up at him as we get closer to the house.
“You’re overthinking,” he says, grinning at me.
“So,” I pout. “This is a big deal.”
“They already love me. It’ll be okay.”
“You’re so cocky,” I tell him.
Before I can even get my key in the door, it swings open.
My mom smiles at us and then looks down at our joined hands, and her smile gets bigger than I’ve ever seen it. “I knew you’d bring that boy home soon enough.”
I choke on the embarrassment. “Mom!”
“What?” she says, all innocently. “You tried to act like I was crazy when I told you he loved you.”
Mason chuckles from beside me.
“Look at him,” she says, making me look up at Mason, who is looking down at me like I’m the only person in the world. “You couldn’t see anything but love when he looked at you. Even if you didn’t see it, girl.”
I shake my head at both of them.
“Can we all just go inside?”
She moves out of the way, letting us walk in, and pats Mason on the back as he walks by.
“It’s good to see you, son.”
Mason stops, letting go of my hand to turn and give my mom a hug. She looks at me over his shoulder and smiles like she’s about to get emotional and cry.
I smile, too, feeling all the emotions.
“Alright, alright,” I tell them. “Enough with the sappiness.”
My mom waves me off and then guides Mason into the kitchen, where she’s cooking lunch.
“It smells amazing in here, Mrs. Edwards,” Mason tells my mom.
Our dog starts barking from his bed in the corner of the living room, which you can see from the kitchen. Or…trying to bark. It comes out more like an old man grumble, honestly.
“He hasn’t moved this much in years,” I say, laughing. “He only does that when someone he really likes shows him attention.”
Mason freezes, like completely freezes, when he looks at our dog.
“Hey,” I whisper, confused. “What’s wrong?”
Mason doesn’t answer. He just starts walking closer to him, so slowly, like he’s afraid to scare him away or something.
Or maybe he’s the scared one. He kneels in front of the dog bed as his tail hits his bed weakly, but I can tell how excited he is.
Mason’s face changes. He looks sad? Or maybe just really happy that he might cry… I can’t tell.
“What’s…what’s his name?” Mason asks, voice cracking.
I blink. “Thor?”
Mason’s eyes fill with unshed tears now, and it makes my stomach drop, worried something’s wrong.
“What’s going on?” I whisper. “Why are you acting like this?”
He just looks up at me from the floor, with his hand on top of the dog’s head, looking like he can’t even breathe properly right now.
“Can someone explain,” he says, voice shaking, “how this dog is here right now?”
My mom steps closer, confused. “Honey…what are you talking about?”
I stare at Mason. “Yeah, you gotta be more specific. That’s kind of a weird question.”
His eyes flick down to Thor again. “How did you get him?” he whispers.
I’m so confused, and my brain is stalling on how to answer that.
“We…um, my aunt had him,” I say slowly. “When she moved to Atlanta, she couldn’t keep him, so…we took him.”
“Where…where did your aunt move from?”
I’m so confused right now.
“She moved from Florida,” my mom tells him.
Something clicks in my head, but it’s like I have more pieces, yet I still don’t know how the puzzle is supposed to come together.
Mason’s face completely crumples. “Thor was…my childhood dog,” he whispers.
Everyone goes silent, taking that in, or trying to take it in. I think I’m still lost, or it’s just not fully clicking, not believing that could be true.
“What?” I ask, disbelievingly.
Mason’s hands tremble as he continues to gently stroke Thor’s head.
“I got him when I was four,” he says, voice breaking. “My dad…he made me take him to the pound when I was eight after I got in trouble one day.” I see him visibly swallow back the emotions. “I haven’t seen him since,” Mason whispers. “I never thought I’d see him again.”
Thor whines softly, licking Mason’s hand the best he can. Mason looks like his heart is splitting open at the reality. Then he leans down and presses his forehead against Thor’s head. “I’m sorry, buddy. I’m so sorry. I never wanted to leave you that day.”
My eyes fill instantly.
My mom crouches beside him, tears already falling dramatically. “Oh, honey…” She places her hand on his shoulder, gently stroking his back. “He really is the sweetest boy. He’s been very loved, very well taken care of, and very spoiled all these years, I promise.”
Mason nods, smiling at that.
Thor’s tail thumps again.
And I’m stuck standing there watching the universe do something so strange and so specific that it feels like it can’t be random.
None of this life is random.
We’re not random.
Like it was always supposed to be us.