Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Gayle was in her office, finishing up adoption paperwork for a cat that had been placed earlier that week, when her phone chimed with the notification. She tapped it open, expecting another general question about volunteer opportunities or a comment on a recent post.
Hi! We've been following your shelter for a few weeks now, and we are completely in love with Presti. Are you still looking for a permanent home for him? We'd love to learn more.
The message was from someone named Sarah Beaumont. Her profile picture showed a family of four at the beach. The Beaumonts had been on the shelter's adoption mailing list for three months.
Gayle stared at the message for a long moment.
Then she clicked through to Sarah’s Instagram profile.
It was public and full of family photos.
beach trips, birthday parties, and a previous dog, a golden retriever, who had clearly been loved for many years.
Recent posts showed the family at a pumpkin patch, decorating for Christmas, baking cookies together.
A nice big house with a fenced yard visible in several of the pictures.
It was the kind of profile Gayle would have flagged immediately as a top candidate.
She closed the app and set the phone down.
Her stomach was in a tight knot.
She should be celebrating. This was the whole point.
The entire reason she'd started the social media campaign was so that animals like Presti could find homes like this.
She'd spent weeks photographing him, writing posts, and building the shelter's online presence.
And now it was working exactly the way she'd hoped.
So why did it feel like she was about to be sick?
Gayle pushed back from her desk and walked into the kennels.
The shelter was quieter than it had been a few weeks ago.
The fundraiser had led to several adoptions.
Copper was gone. Two of the cats had found homes.
The tabby cat she'd been worried about had been placed with a family who lived on a farm.
She should be proud of everything she’d accomplished the past few weeks.
Then why did everything inside her feel like it was breaking?
Gayle returned to her office and pulled up the Beaumonts' profile again.
She looked at their pictures. She tried to picture Presti there—running across that fenced yard with the children, sleeping curled up on the couch beside Mr. Beaumont while he worked from home, getting kisses from the kids who'd clearly grown up loving the family's previous dog.
It was a good home. A great home.
Better than Corey's tiny condo where Presti wasn't even allowed.
The thought hit her like cold water.
She'd been so focused on the puppy's immediate care that she hadn't let herself think too hard about the longer arc.
Corey wasn't going to keep Presti. He couldn't. His building didn't allow pets, and even if none of his neighbors had caught him yet, sooner or later the fostering arrangement would have to come to an end.
And the longer it went on, the worse the eventual separation would be.
Gayle sat down at her desk and pulled up her email. She drafted a response to Sarah Beaumont, her fingers moving carefully across the screen.
Hi Sarah! Thank you so much for reaching out about Presti. He's a wonderful puppy and we'd be thrilled to consider your family for adoption. Would you like to schedule a meet-and-greet this weekend? Saturday afternoon would work well if you're available.
She read it through twice. Then she hit send.
Sarah Beaumont responded within five minutes.
That sounds amazing! Saturday at 2 p.m. works for us. We are SO excited!
Gayle typed back the address and a confirmation, then sat back in her chair and pressed her hands against her eyes.
This was the right thing to do.
The Beaumonts had the kind of home Presti deserved with a yard he could run in and children who would love him.
And it would untangle everything.
Once Presti had a permanent home, Corey wouldn't have a reason to keep showing up at her shelter, organizing fundraisers, and calling in favors from HVAC repairmen. He could return to his quiet simple life.
And Gayle would have done what she should have been doing all along. Keeping him out of a life that was always going to be too much.
But she needed Presti at the shelter on Saturday. Which meant calling Corey.
Gayle picked up her phone and pressed his name before she could lose her nerve.
He answered on the second ring. "Gayle?"
"Hi." She kept her voice carefully neutral.
"I'm sorry to bother you. I was wondering if you could bring Presti to the shelter on Saturday afternoon.
I want to do some socialization work with him.
See how he behaves around the other dogs and cats now that he's older.
It'll help me figure out what kind of home would be the best fit when we start looking. "
There was a pause. Long enough that Gayle wondered if the call had dropped.
"Sure," Corey said finally. "What time?"
"Around two? I'll need him for a few hours, probably. You could drop him off and pick him up later, if that works."
"Of course." His voice was carefully neutral, matching hers. "Anything else you need me to bring?"
"Just him. And maybe his favorite toy, if it'll help him feel comfortable."
"Okay."
The silence stretched between them. Gayle could feel him waiting for something more. Some warmth, some normal conversation, some sign that the woman who had held his hand at the Christmas market was still on the other end of this phone call.
She didn't give it to him.
"Thanks, Corey. I'll see you Saturday."
She ended the call before he could respond.
Gayle set the phone down on her desk and pressed her hands flat against the wood. Her heart was beating too fast and her chest hurt.
She told herself she was doing the right thing.
There was no point in getting his hopes up.
The family might come on Saturday and decide Presti wasn't the right fit.
They might be wonderful in their photos but not great with him in person.
A hundred things could go wrong with an adoption, and the kindest thing she could do was wait until she knew there was actually something to tell.
All of that was true.
But it wasn’t the full truth and she knew it.