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We make a quick circuit around the block with a quick stop at the dog park because, according to Sam’s strict instructions, Benji requires at least ten minutes of off-leash time before coming back to the shelter. I unclip the leash from his harness and he bolts to the back corner of the park while the others lay down in the grass near the bench where I sit. Benji runs back to the group and puts his front paws on my knees, practically smiling as he looks at me before taking off for another lap. I find myself wondering if I could build a run for a dog like Benji in my yard. I’m not opposed to a fence around the property ifnecessary. Or a zipline style of run so that he could be free, but with some limits.
Once Benji has tired himself out, he runs back to our group and sits at my feet, waiting to be clipped back into his leash for the walk back to the shelter where I immediately scoop him into my arms and lavish him with belly rubs as we walk together to Sam’s office.
Sam greets me with a knowing smile as he looks from me to the dog in my arms. Part of me wonders if Benji was his plan for me all along, but there’s one thing I have to know before I do anything else.
“How does this guy feel about cats?” I ask, sitting down in the chair across from Sam and continuing to pet the little furball. Everytime I stop, his paw finds my hand and practically places it where he wants some attention.
“He loves them,” Sam gives me a sly smile, “it’s the strangest thing. And they love him, too. Even the grumpiest of my grumpy cats here can’t resist Benji’s charm.”
“He’s adoptable?”
“That’s quite the impulsive decision, Max. Have you thought about this beyond the next five minutes?” There’s no judgment in Sam’s voice, but there is a pinch of concern between his brows. “You have Sutton and Elise in your house, and while Benji is hypoallergenic, that doesn’t mean someone with a severe allergy would be impervious.”
“Elise and I grew up with dogs. Sutton, too.”
“What about a place for him to run?”
“I’ve been thinking about that. I could do a long leash so that he has free reign on-lease until I can get a fence around the yard.”
“You’re going to have an answer for every question I ask, aren’t you?” Sam asks with a smirk.
“All except one,” I look down into the eyes of the little dogin my arms, still absentmindedly petting him. “I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow.”
“Look, I want to see Benji adopted. I think he deserves a good family and a stable home. He loves Kaline, and I’m close to just adopting him myself. I don’t want to discourage you from adopting this sweet guy, but I also don’t want you adopting him on impulse because of the uncertainty of your job.”
It is impulsive. I should probably talk things over with Sutton and Elise, figure out if bringing a dog into the house is the right move for any of us. I came in today to take my mind off of tomorrow, and I suspect Sam knew putting me with this pup would do just that, but I don’t know if he predicted how attached I’d grow to the little furry heart stealer in such a short time.
“I’ll make you a deal,” Sam leans back in his seat and regards me with a tired expression. “I’ll foster him. If you make it through tomorrow unscathed, come get him. If the worst case scenario you’ve been building up in your head is what actually happens, come home at the end of the season and adopt him.”
“You’re sure?” I glance down at the dog, now sleeping in my arms, snoring softly. “I’d hate to take him from you and Kaline.”
“We’ll manage. He’s bonded better with you in the last few hours than anyone else that’s met him over the last few weeks.”
After feeding the dogs and cats, and processing donations in the back room, Sam and I head to a place on the water for lunch. We eat in silence, watching the boats on the water and trying to avoid the televisions that hang over the bar in the main part of the restaurant. I don’t want to see rumors, I don’t want to see the moves already being made today, and eventhough I see familiar faces on the screen, I’m sure the things they’re saying would send my heartrate through the roof.
“Be honest with me,” Sam sits back and sips his iced tea, watching me with a narrowing gaze. “How are youreallyfeeling about tomorrow? Don’t give me the line you’ve given in all the post-game interviews and newspaper columns. Give me therealanswer.”
“Do you remember my first suspension?” I ask him, mirroring his posture and trying to stay casual while my mind races to every scenario I can think of. “I was terrified that I was going to be designated for assignment, and no team would want me because I’d be a liability. I’m about as scared as I was then.”
“You made me run ten miles with you on one of those suspension days,” Sam laughs. “And we’dliterallyjust met. You’re lucky I love you.”
“I love you too,” I tell him, “and I’m thankful for a distraction today.”
“How is Sutton?”
“She’s on a whale watching tour with Elise, so distracting herself.”
Last night, when we got home from the game, Elise was already in bed but neither of us were tired or wanted to go our separate ways for the night so I built a fire in the patio fire pit. I sat with Sutton in my arms until the fire died down and the stars glittered overhead. Neither of us said much, and when the fire was out, we walked upstairs together and parted at the landing, each to our own room, but not before she pulled me in for a kiss.
Whatever happens tomorrow is out of our control.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
A Warning
SUTTON
“We should have planneda girls day a long time ago,” Elise and I walk arm in arm down the gangway toward the waiting tour boat. It’s a beautiful sunny day, the slight breeze blowing across the open water makes me grateful for the sweatshirt I threw on before we left this morning. “I’m glad our schedules finally lined up.”
