Chapter Seven #2
Moments later FenLei was showing the address to her nephew who carefully put it in the GPS on his phone.
Michael grabbed the bouquet of flowers, and they were off in the nephew’s rust bucket of a car.
It was small and did not have the leg room that Michael needed but he was not going to complain.
His head touched the ceiling, and he could feel every bump in the road because the shocks were shot.
Michael fiddled with his cuffs and tie. The nephew said nothing, and Michael was grateful.
He didn’t even know if the boy could speak English and Michael did not want to try to converse.
As they got closer to Ann is apartment, Michael’s trepidation and anxiety climbed. He tried to concentrate on the city and people walking. Whatever he thought he might say or do when he had made this plan seemed silly now. This was not going to work.
Michael closed his eyes and tried to regroup. He didn’t know if it was going to work. It might. He would just wing it and do his best. He wanted Ann back. He was not going to get her back if he just sat at home and hoped. This was the only thing he could do.
After the internal pep talk, Michael only felt marginally better. However, it did not matter how he felt. They were here. Michael opened the door and unfolded his body from the passenger seat, taking the flowers.
“Good luck,” FenLei is nephew said in perfect English. Michael looked at him in surprise then nodded. He approached the lobby and found the daunting row of buttons. Anne was apartment five-zero-six. Surely it should be the fifth row, the sixth one in. He pushed the button.
There was no response. He looked at his watch. He hoped he was not too late. Michael pressed the button again.
“What?” a cranky old lady said.
Not the right button. Michael didn’t know what to do. He could not press buttons at random, hoping to get Ann.
“That you Larry?” the voice asked.
Michael tried to lie and say yes but no sound came out. It was like his brain had lost the word on the way to his tongue and nothing worked. He tried again. Nope.
The old lady muttered something about old men losing keys all the time and the door buzzed and opened.
Michael grabbed the door. He tried to say thank you but that didn’t work either.
Instead, he made his way to the elevator.
Then he rethought that plan. If he went to the wrong floor, he could get lost trying to get back to the right floor.
Knowing his luck, Michael would count buttons again and end up on the sixth floor rather than the fifth.
No, better to take the stairs and be certain.
It took a few minutes to find the stairwell.
He had never taken them to Ann’s apartment, always using the elevator before.
Five flights later, Michael was a little out of breath and the flowers were looking a little wilted from his slightly panicked grip.
He made his way to the elevators then knew the rest of the way from memory.
The numbers on the door were mixed up. He was fairly certain this was her door. There was only one way to find out.
He knocked.
There was a rustling on the other side and Ann swung the door open with a smile. Shock replaced the smile as she saw him.
She was beautiful. She had her hair up and a navy, curve hugging dress on. His heart went into his throat and Michael knew that even if he had been able to speak properly, he would not have been able to say anything.
Michael held out the flowers. They were sunflowers with daisies and seemed highly inappropriate for the classy vision before him.
She took the bouquet with some confusion. “Michael, what are you doing here?”
He tried to speak. He should have known it was not going to happen. Michael went into her apartment, shutting the door and took her hands. The flowers were in the way, so he grabbed them and set them on the side table before grabbing her hands again.
“Michael, I cannot do this right now. I have a date.”
He raised her hands and kissed the back of a hand then laid it over his heart. Surely, she understood?
Ann closed her eyes. “I don’t understand.”
There was a knock on the door. Michael wanted to shout at the man to go away.
“That is George. I need to go. Look, you can stay here, and I will call you a cab when I get home,” Ann pulled her hands out of his, her movements jerky as she grabbed the clutch from the side table.
Desperate, Michael grabbed her hand and sank to one knee, begging.
Ann looked at him sadly. “Michael, I am not coming back.”
He watched in disbelief as she opened the door and walked out of his life again.
∞
Michael sat slumped on Ann is couch. He felt like the entire world had died around him. He took a deep breath and decided to go home. There was no point in staying. Ann had made her choice. It was not him.
He locked the door behind him and left the apartment. People walked the streets, intent on where they were going. Traffic was loud. He looked around and a taxi pulled up in front of him. He got in.
“Where to?”
Michael opened his mouth to reply then shut it. He didn’t have an address on him for the beach house. He might have a credit card, but he could not get home without being able to give directions.
“Buddy, you okay?”
Michael gave a short nod and got out of the cab. He would walk. It would be a long walk but maybe he could get there before FenLei started breakfast.
Did it really matter? He began the long trek. He was going to regret wearing Italian leather loafers. Well, sneakers didn’t exactly go with the suit.
An hour later the loafers were annoying.
The mass of people had thinned out and he came to a poorer section of town.
People were begging for money. Michael found a discount shoe store and bought a new pair of runners.
Outside he exchanged footwear, putting the loafers in the shopping bag, easy to carry.
He was about to get up when a dog came over, sniffing his feet. It was pathetically thin. Michael tried to gently push it away, however it seemed to think that he was petting it and sidled closer.
There was a hotdog vendor at the edge of a nearby park. Michael went over and held up two fingers. He pulled out cash and the man gave him change. Michael laid the two hotdogs on the ground for the dog to eat and walked away.
He was perhaps half a block away when the dog caught up to him. Michael tried to shoo it away, but the stubborn canine just kept pace. Finally, he ignored it. At some point it would get tired and go home.
An hour later, the dog was limping beside him. Michael looked at it. It sat, panting, and wagging its stump of a tail. It held up a paw, licking at it.
Michael sighed and knelt to see what was wrong with the paw. It was hot to the touch and there was swelling. He could clearly see a sore full of infection. It was surprising the dog had kept pace with him this long. It licked his hand.
It was not his dog.
Ten more minutes of walking, Michael could not take it anymore.
He picked up the dog. It was not light. Probably thirty pounds.
He grunted and kept walking. Five blocks later he saw a veterinary clinic that was still open.
He walked in and received admonitions about bringing in the dog without a collar or leash.
Michael put down the dog. Then he plunked down his gold credit card.
When the lady at the desk realized he could not speak, she spoke louder.
Michael was unamused.
An hour later, they had determined his dog was a Boxer and Boston Terrier mixed with something undetermined.
She was still young and likely to get a little bigger.
She was already spayed. They drained and cleaned the infection, bandaging the paw.
After a bath he could see the brown speckles in the black patches on her short coat as her white areas shined.
Her pushed in nose twitched as shots of antibiotics and vaccinations happened.
A collar and leash were had. Flea and heartworm medication were added to the bill.
So was a small bag of dog food. He wondered how he was going to carry it all and the dog.
Finally, they were finished, and Michael found he was the proud owner of a dog. He absently petted her as he was handed the vaccination records. With a tight smile, he led the pet out of the building.
For another hour they walked until the dog began to limp again.
Sighing, Michael shifted the bags and picked up the dog.
She settled her head on his shoulder and let out a gusty sigh as he carried her.
He felt like one of those people who was carrying a package around.
That is what he should have done, mailed her home.
He had a bitter laugh at that, and it started to rain lightly.
He decided the dog is name was FedEx because he was carrying her around like a package. She didn’t seem to object.
Hours later Michael was sitting on a bench in the dark with FedEx shivering beside him, pressed against his side.
The rain was pouring down and both were soaked.
He threw out the loafers. They were one less thing to carry.
His feet were sore. So was his back. He petted the dog and debated what he should do.
Michael was maybe halfway to the beach house.
It would have been smarter to go to the condo as it was much closer, however he had not taken his keys when he left to try to bring back Ann.
Now there was no Ann, but he had gotten a dog.
When he was a child Michael had wanted a dog.
His father had unequivocally said no. So there had never been any pets.
Well, he was keeping this one. Getting up, Michael decided there was little else to do but continue.
It was in the early hours of the morning and nothing was open.
He dumped the dog food in the trash to lighten his load.
FenLei could buy some. Michael picked up FedEx again.