“Never thought I’d see the day that someone turns Chase Hedlund into a lovesick fool,” Mar remarks.
“He’s not lovesick. He just wants to get laid again.”
That earns me a loud snort of laughter. “Have you looked at the guy, Ship? He can get laid with the snap of his fingers. He doesn’t need to triple-text you for that.”
I shrug, but I can’t deny that it makes me feel a bit…gooey at the thought that Chase might also be feeling…gooey.
We’re still texting when I’m climbing into bed later. I feel stupid and giddy as I curl on my side with my phone in hand.
Chase:I still think you should come over.
Me:I still think it’s midnight and I’m cozy in my bed.
Chase:Want me to sneak in through your window?
Me:Sure! We can fool around with Jasmine sleeping five feet away.
Chase:Way to kill the mood.
Chase:Off topic, saw this today and it reminded me of you.
A video link pops up. I click it and proceed to spend the next two minutes watching the most incredible time-lapse photo series showing a year in the life of the most adorable African elephant on the planet.
Me:omg I can’t. All the cuteness is going to make my heart explode.
Chase:Cutest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.
I wonder if anyone would believe me if I told them Chase Hedlund was sending me cute elephant videos at midnight. Probably not.
The following day, I turn in my assignment, which frees meup to enjoy the long weekend without any schoolwork hanging over my head.
Thanksgiving is a quiet affair. Quiet in size, that is, as it’s just the five of us. The day itself is loud and fun, and the emotions hit me harder than I expect. I haven’t experienced a real Thanksgiving, with turkey and pumpkin pie and charades after dinner. Gran was a no-muss, no-fuss kind of woman. For Thanksgiving, the two of us would volunteer at the local soup kitchen. Which was rewarding, certainly, but spending the holidays surrounded by family is a whole different type of reward.
On Friday night, I agree to work at the animal rescue, because it’s impossible to say no to JP and his army of puppies. As I’m getting off the bus near the shelter, I get a text from Agent Foster confirming my next session with Dr.Wilmer on Tuesday. Apprehension circles my chest, but as much as I never want to attend another hypnosis session in my life, I have no choice. I respond with a quick assent and tuck my phone away.
JP walks out of the back room when I enter the shelter. “Hey! I’m glad you’re here. I’m trying to clip Leona’s nails and she’s throwing a hissy fit. I need the backup.”
Grinning, I unzip my hoodie and drape it over the desk chair. “Lead the way.”
We spend the next hour clipping nails, much to the displeasure of nearly every dog in the kennels. Eventually, the task falls solely on me, while JP inventories the cupboards to see which grooming supplies he needs to reorder.
The shelter is quiet except for the occasional canine whimper. I’ve been clipping Rambo’s nails for the past five minutes,which is turning out to be more of a struggle than I anticipated because Rambo is a scrappy terrier with a stubborn streak, squirming every time I try to get his paw to stay still.
“Rambo,” I warn, “you’re going to make this a lot harder if you keep acting like a bratty toddler.”
He squirms again, but finally he settles, watching me with wide, slightly wary eyes. I clip the first nail, and his ears perk as if he’s surprised it didn’t hurt.
“There, see? Easy, right?” I smile at him, and his little tail starts to wag as he realizes I’m not the enemy. “Just a few more, and then you’re done.”
JP, who’s organizing items on the counter, glances over with a thoughtful expression. When I finish the last nail, he clears his throat. “You know,” he says, “you remind me a lot of Leah.”
I straighten, caught off guard. He hardly ever talks about his late wife. “Really?”
“She had that same patience you have, but with this core of iron. She always acted like she didn’t have time for nonsense, but deep down…” JP shakes his head, smiling faintly. “Deep down she was a softie, even though she tried to hide it. You’d think she didn’t do the whole emotion thing. Lord, she was guarded, but when she finally let you in, it was something else. Like she opened a door no one else could see.”
I stare down at the nail clippers, not sure what to say. I’ve only heard bits and pieces about Leah. She doesn’t feel entirely real to me.
All I know for sure is that my father killed her.
