“You’re still here?” a voice calls from behind me, causing me to jump, hands flying up. A small chuckle follows as I turn toward the culprit, my heart still racing in my chest. Sharlene stands behind me with a knowing smile, one hip leaning against the desk. She’s in her late sixties, with long black hair that’s threaded with grays littering the front, but you’d never know her age at the rate she moves. Always on the go, from morning until night, keeping this place sparkling and running to perfection.
“Goodness, could you at least wear a bell or something before you go sneaking up on people?” I ask jokingly, my hand to my chest. I can’t help the huge smile that fills my face as I stare at the one person who has always felt more like a mother to me than a boss.
“Now what fun would that be?” Sharlene teases with awink. “But really, what are you still doing here? I was just wrapping up with Keith and I saw you parked outside. Time to go home, get some sleep. Those bags under your eyes aren’t getting any smaller.” She grabs my hands and pulls me up off the chair, the exhaustion of the past couple days finally settling into my bones.
“Silver needed some extra love, so I was spending time with her. And checking some emails. Sometimes it’s easier to be here and busy, you know?” I answer as Sharlene wraps me in a hug.
The sense of warmth and familiarity I didn’t realize I desperately needed sinks into my weary bones as the smell of her Chanel No. 5 hits my nose. Her hug brings tears spring to my eyes as I soak in the warmth until we finally pull apart.
Standing a few inches taller than me, she grabs my cheeks with both hands and looks into my eyes. “How are you, honey?” she implores softly.
“I’m okay… It’s been a rough few weeks,” I say with a shrug, trying to keep the tears at bay.
Her eyes crinkle around the edges and soft smile lines around her mouth reflect just how much life she has lived. Sharlene opted to buy an animal shelter after she lost her husband, saying it gives her purpose in life. She came into my life when I needed it most, as a lost girl with parents who always seem to have better things to do. Sharlene saw something in me and decided to take me under her wing, and for that I will always be grateful.
“Have you two talked?” she asks, dropping her hands and grabbing a tissue from behind her, turning around and handing it to me.
“No,” I reply, taking the tissue from her outstretchedhand. I wipe my eyes and blow my nose softly, trying to suppress the emotions threatening to assault me.
“Oh, honey…” she starts. “He asked about you today.” She watches me, waiting for my reaction. My heart leaps at the idea, the tingles in my stomach taking flight, wanting to ask more, even knowing that maybe it’s safer to keep it at that.
“How is he?” I ask, feeling safe to open up to her. Knowing she sees what I’m unable to say.
Her eyes soften before she speaks. Tucking a wayward lock of hair behind my ear that has fallen out of ponytail, she says, “He looks about as good as you do, honey.”
The tears return with full force, all the emotions from the day hitting me at once. This is the first break I’ve given myself since I stepped through the door this morning into chaos. I pull in a breath and straighten my shirt, trying to shove my feelings back inside the little box I keep them tucked away in.
“Silver will probably give birth soon,” I tell her, needing to change the subject. “The vet found six puppies on the ultrasound. She’s in one of our quarantine rooms so we can monitor her closely and help her gain a little strength before those babies come.”
Sharlene eyes me with concern for a moment before nodding, accepting that I’m still not ready to talk about it.
I’d much rather focus on the animals who rely on me. I’ve always been drawn to the hardest cases, fixing them up and caring for them until they’re ready for adoption. Something inside me calls to their brokenness, almost as if healing them heals me in a way. A piece of my jagged heart fills every time I watch one go to their forever home.
Silver is just one in a long line of moms I’ve seen comethrough here. When I started volunteering here in high school, I would mostly just walk and play with the dogs. The passion hit me as soon as I saw the first dog get adopted, and it felt so right to be along for the process. My degree in business was purely for my mother’s sake, something she can brag to all her friends about without actually caring what I do with it.
Her lunches are filled with praise for her college graduate daughter, but my phone stays clear of anything from her.
After six months as a volunteer, I started pestering Sharlene for a full-time job, immediately falling under her wing and absorbing everything I could. How to care for the sick and more medically complex cases we have, assisting in deliveries if the vets are unavailable and watching some of the frail dogs turn to the healthiest, happiest dogs on their way to their homes. Somewhere along the way, this place stopped feeling like a job and started feeling like part of me.
Sharlene has cut back her hours lately, spending more time with her grandkids and taking care of the few more medically complex fosters that she takes home, while Keith and I handle the more day-to-day things that keep this place running. We have several part-timers and a few more full-time positions filled.
We run purely on donations, and a non-profit can be very hard. When Kane started volunteering with me in high school, a generous donation was suspiciously added to the shelter’s account every month, like clockwork. He’s never admitted that it’s him, but the payments haven’t stopped since, even now.
Luckily, we also have sponsors, fundraisers and community support to help keep us running and able to take as many dogs as necessary. No matter how tired I am when I get home from putting out fires all day, I’m thankful this ismy job. Every day looks different, but when I look around at the end of the night, taking in the chaos, I know there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
After Sharlene takes off to check our new intake, I wrap up a few more emails. The never-ending inbox of emails marked urgent stares back at me as exhaustion finally seeps into my bones. Since the breakup, the only way I’ve been able to keep moving is by staying busy, knowing that if I give myself a break, the weight of my grief will pull me under again.
With a yawn, I push away from the desk. The animals have settled down for the night, leaving this place the quietest it has been all day. I adjust my hair and brush my shirt off as I stand up, grabbing my things and phone from the lockers in the back.
I ignore the texts waiting for me, knowing there’s nothing I’m really hoping for in them. The air is brisk as I walk outside, the sun having set a couple hours ago. I forgo the coat I brought in this morning, letting the wind roll over my skin, goosebumps coating my arms as I walk to my car. I welcome the cold—the numbness of the weather washing over me, keeping me awake.
As I get into my car, I finally let my mind drift to Kane and what Sharlene said to me earlier—that he asked about me. As curious as I am to know exactlywhathe asked, I know he probably just feels guilty about moving on. Besides, if he really cared, he’d say whatever he needs to say directly to me.
I no longer have the strength to ignore the ache in my chest. As I drive home, the tears spill over, sobs racking my chest.
CHAPTER FIVE
kane
