Page 93 of A Future To Remember

CHAPTER 18

him

Eggy and I drove south toward the closest vet I could find in the area. I’d called ahead, and they knew we were on our way. I cried for a lot of that ride. My heart wasn’t just broken; it was shattered. Abby was gone. Gone.

And soon, Eggy would be gone too. I had to do this one last thing for him, send him home to his mama. I hoped he’d tell her that I’d be along soon too.

Tuttle would find a loving home with Dave. He’d take really good care of her, that much I knew. Brice, Candice, Oscar—my closest friends—they’d get over it. My parents were both gone, and my brothers and I had never been especially close, so they’d probably take the news in stride.

I hoped anyone who cared enough to be sad about what I planned to do would at least understand that I couldn’t live in a world without hope. Abby had been my hope. She’d been more than just my wife; she’d been my heart. My world. My home. Without her, I was completely lost. Her death was a mortal wound. There’s no way I could ever recover. And I didn’t want to. Recovering from her loss meant leaving her behind, and I could no more do that than stop loving her.

Candice and Oscar would see that Abby got home after the lab ran its tests to properly identify her. I didn’t need to wait on the results. That red sweater told me all I needed to know. My wife had died in that cabin. I didn’t need or want to know how. I didn’t need to know the brutality of what’d happened to her. I could go to my own grave never knowing those details. I could only hope that once I met her on the Other Side, she’d forgive me for failing to protect her. I was willing to spend eternity asking for that forgiveness, if that’s what it took.

Eggy snuggled deeper into the folds of my jacket. It was warm in the cab of the truck, but he’d mostly been sleeping since the day before. “I’m sorry, little buddy,” I whispered, stroking the top of his head. “I couldn’t let you go until I knew. I hope you understand.”

We approached the town where the nearest vet’s office was, and I saw a sign for a family restaurant up ahead. I glanced down at the top of Eggy’s head, and it was like he knew I was thinking about stopping to get him a burger. He pointed his snout up and looked at me. If my heart hadn’t already been broken, it would’ve broken then.

“One last meal before you head home to see Abby?” I asked him, sniffling as a tear dropped onto his forehead.

He sighed, laying his long nose on the crook of my arm.

“Rare, right?”

I stroked his side while I pulled into a parking slot in front of the joint. I opened the door and for a minute wondered if I should leave Eggy wrapped up in his blanket on the front seat, but he was looking pretty alert, and I worried that he might slide off the seat and hurt himself. So, I tucked him a little more deeply into the folds of my coat and muttered, “Keep your head down. If they know I brought you inside, they’ll kick us out, and it’ll be no burger for you.”

He dropped down and snuggled against me, and I had to fight back even more tears. How the hell was I gonna do this? Eggy felt like my last connection to my beautiful wife, and doing what needed to be done was like cutting the only tether I had left.

I wiped my eyes, cleared my throat, and tried to get ahold of myself.

We walked into the diner, and a trim, pleasant-looking woman stood behind the register. “Hey there,” she said. “Take any table that’s clean.”

I ignored the offer and moved to stand in front of the register. “Can I order a burger to go?”

She seemed surprised by the request. “Uh, sure. We’re still serving breakfast, but I think we can rustle you up a burger. How would you like it?”

“Rare. And plain. Just meat and the bun, please.”

“Fries?”

“No thanks. Just the burger.”

“Somethin’ to drink?”

“Dr Pepper, if you have it,” I said, remembering that it was Abby’s favorite and wanting to feel connected to her in any way I could. “Can I wait at the counter?”

“Sure can. Dr Pepper comin’ right up.”

I took a seat at the counter and kept my chest facing the half wall that formed a right angle, which would obscure the twelve-pound bundle nestled against my chest.

I picked up a menu and looked it over, not because I was hungry, just for something to do.

Behind me there was the clank of dishes as someone with a bus tub walked past. I glanced at the counter, which was in need of a wipe-down, then I looked toward the far end of the restaurant. The place was a mess. There’d either been a big breakfast rush or they were short-staffed.

I went back to reading the menu when Eggy gave a muffled little yip.

Immediately, I cleared my throat loudly, trying to hide the sound. Looking around, I didn’t think anyone had noticed. Pulling the opening of my jacket away from my chest, I whispered, “Keep it down, bud.”

But then Eggy did the craziest thing. His snout emerged from my jacket, pushing my chin out of the way, and he sniffed the air greedily. No doubt he was smelling his last meal.