us.
“Yes.”
“Did you name the others too?”
“Some.” He glanced over at me with that answer. “And yes, I like Will Ferrell.”
“What? I didn’t ask about Will Ferrell.”
“I assumed with all the questions that would be your next one. Did I name the car-chasing dog Ricky Bobby because I like Will Ferrell?”
“No.” I tried to frown at him, hiding the smile I got because he’d volunteered something without my asking.
“Really?” He studied me for a moment, then turned back to the pen in front of us. He took another drink and remained silent.
“So Daisy and Gatsby. What’s their story?”
He didn’t respond immediately. I braced myself, waiting for his deep voice to share another tale filled with heartbreaking details. “Well, the owner just died. The family didn’t want them either. They left the dogs in the house for three weeks before the neighbors figured it out.”
“They just left them?”
“Yes, and went back to Arkansas.”
“What did they think would happen to the dogs locked up in the house? It doesn’t make sense. That’s just . . . just so wrong .”
“I know.” His eyes softened with compassion toward my anger. “Some people are just selfish bastards, and it’s the animals who pay the price.”
I focused on the two dogs that morphed into one pile of chocolate fur. Each face was covered in gray hair that reflected their age. They seemed lost. They seemed alone. They seemed confused as to why they were left behind by the only person who had ever loved them.
Daisy and Gatsby asked why in a place where the question was forbidden. I closed my eyes for a moment. Each time his gruff voice told me a story, it never got any easier. Yet I continued to ask questions, knowing each answer came with heartbreaking consequences.
“Come on.” Wyatt touched my shoulder briefly and my eyes flew open. I saw a flash of tenderness before he shut it down. “Get Charlie out. I’ll get Gus.”
“Gus?”
Wyatt didn’t reply and left toward the exit, carrying his Styrofoam cup. I went to the end of the aisle and Charlie jumped so high he fell over backward. I opened the gate and the spotted dog flew into my arms. As I carried him outside, Charlie did his best to lick the carefully applied makeup off my face. Wyatt came out the front door of his trailer, clutching a white and brown Jack Russell.
I froze right in place. He was good at making the reaction happen, confusing me to the point that he rendered me speechless. And Wyatt did just that as he got closer and closer to where I stood with Charlie.
He was so incredibly cute when he allowed it to show. Wyatt seemed like a different person in this very moment. He seemed almost normal with the little dog tucked under his arm and the cup in the other hand.
I swallowed hard, trying to calm the feelings. I wanted to help him. I wanted to peel back every layer until I knew everything about him. But now I felt those other complicated thoughts. The slow burn of attraction flickered inside of me.
Taking a deep breath, I did my best to push it aside as he joined me on the path to the fenced-in play area. “So that’s Gus?”
“Yes.”
“What’s his story? He seems normal.” As normal as you right now, I wanted to add.
“Things are not always what they seem.” Wyatt scratched the dog under the chin, leaving my question unanswered.
We placed both of the little animals in the play area. Charlie pounced at Gus. They took off in a blur, around and around through the grass. I laughed, watching Charlie. He loved everyone. Diana would find him a home soon. It shouldn’t take much to get him adopted. I wondered if she tried or if Wyatt asked her to keep Charlie longer for me.
I sneaked a glance in his direction. He had a faint smile on his face and yet the sadness still radiated off his cheeks. It stayed just a little on the surface even on a day like today. This strange and rare day he’d opened up a few of his layers.
“Hold my
“Yes.”
“Did you name the others too?”
“Some.” He glanced over at me with that answer. “And yes, I like Will Ferrell.”
“What? I didn’t ask about Will Ferrell.”
“I assumed with all the questions that would be your next one. Did I name the car-chasing dog Ricky Bobby because I like Will Ferrell?”
“No.” I tried to frown at him, hiding the smile I got because he’d volunteered something without my asking.
“Really?” He studied me for a moment, then turned back to the pen in front of us. He took another drink and remained silent.
“So Daisy and Gatsby. What’s their story?”
He didn’t respond immediately. I braced myself, waiting for his deep voice to share another tale filled with heartbreaking details. “Well, the owner just died. The family didn’t want them either. They left the dogs in the house for three weeks before the neighbors figured it out.”
“They just left them?”
“Yes, and went back to Arkansas.”
“What did they think would happen to the dogs locked up in the house? It doesn’t make sense. That’s just . . . just so wrong .”
“I know.” His eyes softened with compassion toward my anger. “Some people are just selfish bastards, and it’s the animals who pay the price.”
I focused on the two dogs that morphed into one pile of chocolate fur. Each face was covered in gray hair that reflected their age. They seemed lost. They seemed alone. They seemed confused as to why they were left behind by the only person who had ever loved them.
Daisy and Gatsby asked why in a place where the question was forbidden. I closed my eyes for a moment. Each time his gruff voice told me a story, it never got any easier. Yet I continued to ask questions, knowing each answer came with heartbreaking consequences.
“Come on.” Wyatt touched my shoulder briefly and my eyes flew open. I saw a flash of tenderness before he shut it down. “Get Charlie out. I’ll get Gus.”
“Gus?”
Wyatt didn’t reply and left toward the exit, carrying his Styrofoam cup. I went to the end of the aisle and Charlie jumped so high he fell over backward. I opened the gate and the spotted dog flew into my arms. As I carried him outside, Charlie did his best to lick the carefully applied makeup off my face. Wyatt came out the front door of his trailer, clutching a white and brown Jack Russell.
I froze right in place. He was good at making the reaction happen, confusing me to the point that he rendered me speechless. And Wyatt did just that as he got closer and closer to where I stood with Charlie.
He was so incredibly cute when he allowed it to show. Wyatt seemed like a different person in this very moment. He seemed almost normal with the little dog tucked under his arm and the cup in the other hand.
I swallowed hard, trying to calm the feelings. I wanted to help him. I wanted to peel back every layer until I knew everything about him. But now I felt those other complicated thoughts. The slow burn of attraction flickered inside of me.
Taking a deep breath, I did my best to push it aside as he joined me on the path to the fenced-in play area. “So that’s Gus?”
“Yes.”
“What’s his story? He seems normal.” As normal as you right now, I wanted to add.
“Things are not always what they seem.” Wyatt scratched the dog under the chin, leaving my question unanswered.
We placed both of the little animals in the play area. Charlie pounced at Gus. They took off in a blur, around and around through the grass. I laughed, watching Charlie. He loved everyone. Diana would find him a home soon. It shouldn’t take much to get him adopted. I wondered if she tried or if Wyatt asked her to keep Charlie longer for me.
I sneaked a glance in his direction. He had a faint smile on his face and yet the sadness still radiated off his cheeks. It stayed just a little on the surface even on a day like today. This strange and rare day he’d opened up a few of his layers.
“Hold my
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