Page 111 of Tied Over

Turning the newspaper around for me, I saw the announcement that Hayden Burdine the Third was marrying Davis Warren. The wedding was scheduled for December fifteenth at the family home on Mercer Island.

“No shit,” I said.

Bodhi waggled his eyebrows at me.

I took a breath. “You feel okay about that?”

“Are you kidding? I feel great. I mean, I knew I didn’t screw Hayden over when I called off the wedding, but now I know for sure that he was no more invested than I was.”

I nodded.

“I didn’t realize I was carrying around any guilt, but seems like I was, so now I’m good.”

I was glad. I didn’t want anything hanging over us.

Angie texted me an hour later, saying that when they made the announcement, no one was surprised. It made perfect sense. More importantly, she, Zach, and the kids were visiting his relatives in Wisconsin in February, and she wanted Bodhi and me to meet them there. I assured her that Chicago to Milwaukee was easy and we would make that happen. I couldn’t wait to see her.

Meredith was bringing Stella to see me and Bodhi the week after Halloween, and we didn’t have to worry about seeing Hayden since he had already moved back to Washington.

Bodhi grinned. “That was fast.”

“You happy for him?” I asked him that night in bed.

“I am. Everything worked out exactly as it was supposed to,” he said, reaching for me.

Two days later, we went to an adoption event sponsored by a rescue in Texas to get a cat. The thing was, though, once we got there, I saw a black-and-white pittie, and I could have sworn he was smiling at me. His name was Gordo—it said so on the sticker on the hanging sign—and he was scared of people after being used as a bait dog and then left for dead on the street.

I crouched down beside the enclosure, and he got up from where he was under a table and walked over. The lady standing there to corral the other dogs gasped.

“Is he not up for adoption?” I asked her.

“No. I mean yes. He is,” she corrected herself, her eyes filling instantly. “I just… He’s terrified of men, but he––” Gordo pushed his nose through the wire mesh to try and touch my hand. “Oh my God, please tell me you need a dog.”

“We came for a cat,” I told her as I reached over the top of the enclosure and petted him.

“Okay,” she said, her voice wobbling.

Bodhi joined me then, and Gordo took several steps back.

“Hi, buddy,” Bodhi greeted the dog. “You sure are pretty.”

Gordo tipped his head sideways, Bodhi did the same, and then Gordo charged forward and put his paws up on the enclosure to greet the man I loved.

“You know,” Bodhi said, turning to me, “I think he wants to come home with us.”

The lady in charge agreed wholeheartedly.

“Did those dog treats they were selling look edible to you?” I asked that weekend as we walked around the farmer’s market with Gordo who looked really good in his yellow bandana. So good in fact that people kept wanting to pet him which he was already better about as long as he could see us. “Why were they green?”

“They were filled with veggies,” he told me.

“Should dogs eat that many vegetables? Miro says Chickie spits out broccoli.”

He was chuckling and then said, out of the blue, “Maybe when you retire, and I resign so we’re out at the same time, we can figure out what we’ll do for our second act.”

“Where did that come from?”

He shrugged. “Just thinking about our future.”