Cruz’s forehead smooths out, and he nods. I pull the paper out of the top of the bag, setting it to the side. When I reach inside, my fingers brush against the lush velvet. My eyes find Cruz watching me. His grin is so wide that his eyes crinkle at the corner. “Go on.”
“What did you do?” Even the box looks expensive. “Cruz, you chartered a plane, and this looks like it’s from Smithfield’s. They only do custom jewelry and I’ve seen some of the price tags on their designs.” I’m not sure I want to open it. Whatever’s in here is going to be gorgeous and I’ll want to keep it, but I can’t accept a gift this expensive.
“Delilah, just open it before you freak out.” Cruz sighs, laying his hand on top of mine. “Please?” The softness in his eyes when he asks makes my resolve melt away.
“Fine.” I crack the top open just enough to see part of a gold chain. When our eyes meet across the table, I open it the rest of the way. When I look back down and see the bracelet, my hand flies up to cover my mouth.
The delicate gold chain is adorned with three of the smallest charms I have ever seen. A tiny coffee bean, a paw print, and a baseball—each separated with an equally dainty diamond.
“Cruz. This is the most beautiful bracelet I have ever seen. It’s everything. And way too much. But I’m not giving it back.” A snort slips free as I clutch the box to my chest. I shouldn’t keep this, but this is the most “me” piece of jewelry I’ve ever owned. It’s understated and personal.
He stands and comes around the table, pulling me up from the chair and into his chest where I rest my head. “I wouldn’t take it back if you tried. Thank you for being my friend. You were the first person after Jarrett died to make me feel like I could survive without him. I hope this year is even more wonderful than your last. You,Mi Sol, deserve all the happiness in the world.”
I feel a hot tear glide down my cheek and bring my hand up to wipe it away before he can see. “Will you help me put it on?”
“Of course, and then it’s puppy time!” he says, lifting the bracelet to my wrist. His forehead scrunches as his large fingers fumble with the tiny clasp. I press my lips together. It’d be rude to laugh at him, but he looks so serious as he works.
Once he has it secured, I slide the box back into the bag and follow him outside. Cruz opens the car door for me before rounding the front of the bronco to join me. When he cranks the key, the engine rumbles to life and his radio comes on playing “Weak” by AJR. His hand shoots out, turning the knob. He stares at the silent radio, a frown pulling at his lips.
He doesn’t say anything as he pulls into traffic. It’s rare for us not to fill up the blank space with chatter. He’s got the same, withdrawn look in his eyes that I saw before he left the party last night. Witnessing his grief enough over the last few months, I know that he’s thinking of Jarrett right now. He’s trapped in a memory of his life before, and my heart breaks for him.
“You looked a little lost. Want to talk about it?”
He glances over at me for a second before he looks forward, keeping his focus on the road as his hands tighten on the steering wheel. His breath comes out in one long shaky exhale. “I’m not sure how to explain this without coming off like an asshole.”
“Just tell me. We have always been open with each other and I stick around.”
“It’s because of my mom’s esquites recipe, you can’t get enough. That’s what keeps you around.” His grip loosens, and he gives me a quick smile, trying to skirt the topic.
“I can’t deny the appeal of a decades-old recipe from your mom’s family. But after this present?” I shake my wrist in front of me, admiring the bracelet again.
Cruz just shakes his head at my antics before glancing my way. On exhale he explains, “The big milestones in life remind me—more than a normal day—that Jarrett isn’t here. That he missed out on so many things.” Pointing at the radio, he adds, “Hearing his favorite band is a little overwhelming for me, right now.”
I lower my hand to Cruz’s knee, palm up, and he threads his fingers through mine, squeezing.
“I spent a lot of time last night looking at pictures of him and I together. Just to make sure I hadn’t forgotten all those little details about him. Like the way his stupid hair would always flop to one side.” That makes Cruz laugh, but his eyes are still misty. “Then this morning I was listening to AJR when I was lifting. I wanted to remember all the times he used to drag me to their shows. I’d pretend it wasn’t my thing, but secretly I loved it because it made him so happy.”
“Those are both really beautiful ways to remember him, Cruz. I’m proud of you for channeling those feelings into reminiscing instead of into something destructive. I can’t imagine that’s easy.”
He shrugs his shoulders. “It’s easier now that I’m here in Denver and that I’m on a team that supports me, and I have you. I meant what I said earlier, Mi Sol. You helped me find the light in all the darkness that cloaked me early on.”
When I look up at him the light is back in his eyes. “It’s okay to be sad and to miss him. It’s even okay to call me when you are having a hard time. I’ll come over and we’ll dance to AJR together. You can teach me all his best dance moves and I’ll do them right alongside you. If that doesn’t work, we’ll haul ass to the shelter and pet puppies.” He squeezes my hand and lets his head fall back against the seat.
“I can’t bring Jarrett back, but I’ll do everything I can to help you celebrate him, or distract you. Whatever you need. And if that’s still not enough, then you’ll let me know and we will figure it out together.”
Cruz nods and turns into the parking lot, finding a spot in the back where he can park this beast away from everyone else. He grabs the hat off the dash and pulls it down tight over his head before he rounds the truck and opens my door.
“Follow me to the back. We have leashes and goodie bags for you,” the volunteer covering the front desk of Saving Paws instructs Cruz and me.
“Goodie bags? Why do I think those aren’t filled with birthday treats for us?” Cruz whispers under his breath. The volunteer leads us through the building and stops in front of a kennel holding two of the fluffiest, tawny colored puppers I have ever seen. Their tails wag excitedly, smacking off the side of the chain link kennel, causing them to rattle as Cruz bends to their eye level.
“Don’t you two look happy to see us! You want to go for a walk with Delilah and I today?” he croons, holding his hand in front of the cage for a smell.
“Emmett and Rose are thrilled to have the two of you here to walk them.”
Stooping down next to Cruz, I place my palm against the cage for a sloppy kiss from the smaller of the two dogs. “Are they siblings? They’re both so dang adorable.”
“They are. We got them as puppies and their siblings have all found homes, but these two were bonded. Finding homes for a pair is more difficult. They have been with us for six months,” the volunteer explains stepping into the cage and leashing both pups. “Enjoy your walk today, guys,” she says, handing Cruz and I the leashes and a few goodie bags, which are indeed poop bags.
