“You have to talk to him, Sebastian,” Pop said, taking one of my hands and giving it a comforting squeeze.
I shook my head. “We can’t. Every time I try—every fucking time—he gets so defensive.”
“He’s likely seen a lot of atrocities,” Pop murmured. “Those didn’t stay behind after he came home from the war. And he sees awful things like it right here in New York. I can understand the desire to bury it, to just shut it out, but the two of you won’t make it if you can’t find some way to talk.”
“We have to make it,” I said quickly, looking at him. “Dad…. Calvin, he’s… there’s never been anyone like him. He gets my frustrating humor. He thinks I’m sexy, and how many goddamn times have you heard someone saythatabout me?”
“Sebastian.”
“He likes to spoil me for no reason. Last week he came by the Emporium with my favorite coffee and cookies on his lunch break. I asked him what the occasion was, and he said,‘It’s Tuesday.’ Who does that? He likes watching silent films, and he lets me talk his ear off about stupid antique shit I know he doesn’t find as interesting as I do.
“I need to return the affection. I mean—Ido. Every chance I get. But I want to help him. I want to help him sleep through the night without dreaming about the dead children in Afghanistan he’s convinced died because he wasn’t a good enough soldier. I want him to stop crying, to stop being afraid. He’s the bravest and strongest man I know, and he thinks the exact opposite of himself.”
Everything poured out of me so fast, I had to come back up to breathe.
Pop let go of my hand, nodding. “And he won’t go to a therapist?”
“No. And Quinn knows. Enough at least to be aware that there’s reason for concern now.” I took my glasses off and dabbed the corners of my eyes. “I don’t want him to lose his job. He loves being a detective. It’s what he’s made for. But this can’t keep going.”
“What I said about him getting a dog…,” my dad said after a pause. “I was serious.”
“I know. I sort of suggested it too. But wouldn’t he have to go to a doctor first? I know heneedsa doctor, but if it’s official… his career….”
“I have a friend,” Pop said. “She runs a nonprofit that trains rescue dogs to service vets. They’re even taught how to wake owners from nightmares. They’re not affiliated with the government or the VA—they help a lot of folks through donation alone.”
“Really? They’re in New York?”
“They have a small office here, yes. I can give her a call. Maybe you’d like to meet her before going to Calvin with the information?”
I did, actually. It sounded promising. Calvin was so opposed to visiting a VA hospital, but maybe I had to come at this nightmare from a different angle. How he’d have the time to care for a dog, I didn’t know, but I was honest when I said I’d help. And if he benefited from this pup, maybe it would lower his stress and anxiety to a point that he’d not be opposed to at least talking now and then with a therapist.
I took a deep breath and nodded, feeling like a weight had been lifted from my chest. “Yeah, let’s do that. Thanks, Pop.”
“Sure thing, kiddo. You know I really like Calvin. And I love seeing how happy he makes you. We’ll figure this out.”
“I’m nominating you for Dad of the Year.”
“Oh please,” he said, standing. “I’ve got so many awards, they cut me off.”
I laughed and nodded. “True. You are a pretty cool dad.”
“Very hip,” he confirmed, dating himself by word usage alone. “I need to take Maggie on a walk. Want to come along?”
“Sure, I—”
The building’s front door buzzer went off.
“Was Calvin coming back here after work?” Pop asked as he went and hit the door-lock button.
I turned from my seat on the couch as he unlocked the apartment door. “I wasn’t under the impression he was.”
Pop opened it when there was a gentle knock. “Hello there, Calvin. We were just talking about you.”
“Good evening, William,” Calvin said quietly. He stepped inside when my dad ushered him in. Calvin turned and looked at me. “Hey.”
“Hey back.”
Calvin stuffed his hands in his coat pockets. “Can we talk?”
