VA. The room went silent. “Honestly, I’d much prefer it to sitting here dredging all this up.” With insistence from Adam, Mike decided they had enough to go on and if any issues they hadn’t covered cropped up, they’d deal with them at the time.
They shifted to the large exercise yard behind the quarantine area where they could train in private and Vince showed him the basic obedience exercises he and Calliope had worked on. Mike gave them some tips, and left them a bunch of homework. Vince watched while Mike walked away with Lulah to discuss a full training plan, his mood darkening as the pair disappeared in the direction of HQ. The other guy always wins the girl; fair enough, because he had nothing to offer her.
He called Calliope and decided to head over to Lulah’s barn. The restoration job had arrived, and if he started on the planning, he could forget about all this other stuff. When he entered the barn he inhaled its soft cool air. The wood for the carving for Gable’s wagon lay on the workbench, the design traced out and ready for his chisel. He cast a quick and critical eye across the drawings he’d finished the previous evening, but couldn’t gather enough enthusiasm to start on the work. When he sat in the armchair Lulah inhabited the night before, Calliope lowered herself to the floor at his feet.
That was hell at the Dog Sanctuary. One-on-one with a therapist was bad enough but he felt as though he was up against four of them today and the entire experience left him jittery. Each of them had different expectations of him. And now the fucking divorce papers. If Taryn could strike him from her life with a pen stroke, why couldn’t someone write away his pain?
He didn’t know how he could live through the possibility of Gable being kept permanently from him.
Still in the armchair, hours later, he watched as Lulah arrived on her bike at the cabin, and a short time after left in her car. His breath stuttered. An intense tingle rippled through his chest and arms, as if his skin contracted, wakening peripheral nerves, and relaxed. A palpable response to seeing her, and the fact that he felt something made everything loud, then very low, as if someone had jacked his volume switch. Having wanted to feel for so long it now played like a nasty trick, like something quenching and delicious on the other side of the razor-wire fence.
Tonight was yoga night. Intuitively, Lulah seemed to understand that he wouldn’t be going with her as he often did. Either that, or she was so pissed at him she didn’t want him to wreck her calm. Sometimes he hated that yoga. Hated the allowances put on for him that reinforced what a jerk he was. The open closet doors were so that he wouldn’t spend the entire session fretting about what hid within the room’s blind spots. He could feel the watch of the others as he tried his best not to scan the room before he lay down, but never succeeded.
Hell, they wanted him to lie there with his eyes closed. Seriously?
He should get out of the chair and start on the restoration, or the carving on Gable’s wagon. In his mind he pulled up her smile, her joy when she towed the wagon around the yard until the awful moment of what had occurred tumbled in. Fuck it. Why can’t I run through a single happy memory without the intrusion of war? His head fell to his hands and he started to rock.
He couldn’t continue like this. He stood and Calliope came immediately to his side, following him as he grabbed a pen and paper from his workbench, then out to the pickup to retrieve her leash. They went to Lulah’s porch and Vince sat at her table and wrote a note.
There is a terrible battle in my soul and I can’t make anything beautiful while it rages.
Out there, in the mountains, is a place I can stay awhile, talk with friends who are no longer here.
Please, watch Calliope for me while I fight my war.
One more time, please…
I AM sorry. Truly.
He tied Calliope to the porch railing.
They shifted to the large exercise yard behind the quarantine area where they could train in private and Vince showed him the basic obedience exercises he and Calliope had worked on. Mike gave them some tips, and left them a bunch of homework. Vince watched while Mike walked away with Lulah to discuss a full training plan, his mood darkening as the pair disappeared in the direction of HQ. The other guy always wins the girl; fair enough, because he had nothing to offer her.
He called Calliope and decided to head over to Lulah’s barn. The restoration job had arrived, and if he started on the planning, he could forget about all this other stuff. When he entered the barn he inhaled its soft cool air. The wood for the carving for Gable’s wagon lay on the workbench, the design traced out and ready for his chisel. He cast a quick and critical eye across the drawings he’d finished the previous evening, but couldn’t gather enough enthusiasm to start on the work. When he sat in the armchair Lulah inhabited the night before, Calliope lowered herself to the floor at his feet.
That was hell at the Dog Sanctuary. One-on-one with a therapist was bad enough but he felt as though he was up against four of them today and the entire experience left him jittery. Each of them had different expectations of him. And now the fucking divorce papers. If Taryn could strike him from her life with a pen stroke, why couldn’t someone write away his pain?
He didn’t know how he could live through the possibility of Gable being kept permanently from him.
Still in the armchair, hours later, he watched as Lulah arrived on her bike at the cabin, and a short time after left in her car. His breath stuttered. An intense tingle rippled through his chest and arms, as if his skin contracted, wakening peripheral nerves, and relaxed. A palpable response to seeing her, and the fact that he felt something made everything loud, then very low, as if someone had jacked his volume switch. Having wanted to feel for so long it now played like a nasty trick, like something quenching and delicious on the other side of the razor-wire fence.
Tonight was yoga night. Intuitively, Lulah seemed to understand that he wouldn’t be going with her as he often did. Either that, or she was so pissed at him she didn’t want him to wreck her calm. Sometimes he hated that yoga. Hated the allowances put on for him that reinforced what a jerk he was. The open closet doors were so that he wouldn’t spend the entire session fretting about what hid within the room’s blind spots. He could feel the watch of the others as he tried his best not to scan the room before he lay down, but never succeeded.
Hell, they wanted him to lie there with his eyes closed. Seriously?
He should get out of the chair and start on the restoration, or the carving on Gable’s wagon. In his mind he pulled up her smile, her joy when she towed the wagon around the yard until the awful moment of what had occurred tumbled in. Fuck it. Why can’t I run through a single happy memory without the intrusion of war? His head fell to his hands and he started to rock.
He couldn’t continue like this. He stood and Calliope came immediately to his side, following him as he grabbed a pen and paper from his workbench, then out to the pickup to retrieve her leash. They went to Lulah’s porch and Vince sat at her table and wrote a note.
There is a terrible battle in my soul and I can’t make anything beautiful while it rages.
Out there, in the mountains, is a place I can stay awhile, talk with friends who are no longer here.
Please, watch Calliope for me while I fight my war.
One more time, please…
I AM sorry. Truly.
He tied Calliope to the porch railing.
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