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Hobbs didn’t argue. “Do you really want to go over at Thanksgiving? Or were you being nice? Because I can whip up a mean protein shake. Some eggs and bacon, maybe. Big bowl of broccoli.”
Hannah’s head snapped up. “I want to go over. I can’t just hide in your house until spring, Chris. And what about the lady with the dog who looks like Gemma and the bodyguard cat? You promised you’d text her.”
Hobbs had been hoping that if enough time passed, both Hannah and Clementine would forget about George and Gracie coming over to try things out. “I will tomorrow.” At the look on Hannah’s face, Hobbs spread open his palms. “Promise.”
Hobbs had never been to the Dogwood County Animal Shelter, which was a large, rectangular building off the highway, right near the dump. Hobbs had been to the landfill plenty of times, usually to help friends toss out old furniture because Hobbs was typically the go-to guy to help friends move furniture. He’d never even considered fostering a pet, not because he wouldn’t foster but because he didn’t want pets. Especially not a dog. Especially not a cute Lab mix puppy that looked like Gemma.
But here he was, walking into the shelter where Lily worked, because that was where Clementine had told him to go when he texted this morning.
This is Lily’s bag. I got in trouble for taking over, so you’re going to have to deal with her directly.She’d shared Lily’s contact information, and when Hobbs had texted, Lily had written back within the hour.
I’m at work this morning. George and Gracie are with me. Feel free to stop by.
Hobbs could hear barking dogs as soon as he neared the heavy metal door at the end of a crumbling sidewalk. He could see a large dumpster out back, as well as a fenced-in, covered range of land about the size of half a football field, presumably for giving dogs exercise. The sign over the door read Dogwood County Animal Shelter in black print so old the letters were scratched up but readable. Hobbs stepped inside and was immediately greeted by half a dozen dogs in various sizes. They approached him in different speeds, some racing up to his legs, others coming in sideways and a couple that both hung back and moved forward, like an uncertain dance. There was a golden chow with the hair around its face shaved down, a red dachshund who spun in circles, a thick golden retriever with a noticeable gimp, a little white terrier of some kind with stand-up ears like a Scottie, a skinny beagle with more white than black coloring and a pit bull of some kind, all black, a lot like Trinity but much larger in size.
“Hi.” An older woman with long, straight blond hair pulled back in a ponytail waved at him from behind a desk. She wore glasses with thick black rims and had a patient smile on her face, like everyone’s favorite librarian in school. “They’re all out to play, but they’re all friendly.” She came around the desk, to the large, open area of cheap carpet and assorted dog toys where Hobbs stood.
Hobbs knelt down and the terrier immediately climbed up his leg and got in his lap. The pit bull clearly thought that was a good idea because he shoved his rear end against Hobbs’s knee, trying to wedge in on the other side. Hobbs lost his balance but caught himself, one hand planting on the rug and the other gripping the terrier, who didn’t budge.
“That’s Mel,” the woman said, her voice indulgent. “He thinks he’s as small as Mabel.”
Hobbs gave in and sat on the floor. Mel fell against him, his front legs dangling over Hobbs’s knee, while Mabel lay curled on the other side. The other four dogs either got in Hobbs’s face or went around him in circles, sniffing. “Where’d they all come from?” His mood had shifted from duty-bound to a little sad, seeing all these creatures so ready to give and get some love, when they obviously had nobody.
“They all have different stories.” The woman pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Mel was brought in by a guy who said he wanted to get his newborn son a puppy instead. Mabel belonged to an elderly woman who passed away. The stories are as varied as the animals who come in here.”
“Look at you.”
Hobbs glanced over his shoulder at Lily, who’d appeared from somewhere in the back. She wore a pair of blue jeans and a camouflage-patterned sweatshirt, her hair up in a messy bun. The dogs rushed to her, pressing around her body like Siamese cats. Only Mabel stayed put. Mel barreled into Lily so hard she stumbled, but she must’ve been used to his behavior because she’d braced herself and didn’t go down.
“Hey, Lily.”
“Hey, Hobbs.” She grinned. “You’re not used to animals, are you?”
“Why do you say that?” Even though it was true. At least, not in a long, long time.
“You look awkward. Like you don’t quite know who to pet or what to do. Am I right, Sally?”
Sally offered a soft laugh. Hobbs stood up and set the little terrier down. She swayed for a second, wobbly, then marched over to Lily and stared at her expectantly.
“I can’t hold you right now, Mabel.” Lily fisted her hips, peered down at the little terrier and used a toddler voice to speak to her. “She’d sit in our laps all day if she could. Sometimes she does.” Then Lily turned to Sally. “He’s come for George and Gracie.”
“Oh.” Sally’s mouth made a circle of surprise. She glanced in the corner, and only then did Hobbs see them. In all the commotion, he hadn’t noticed the dog-and-cat pair in the far corner, atop a dog bed. Gracie was lying down, but alert, like she wanted to come play, and George sat nearby, watching with intent. He wore a steel-gray sweater today, like the color of storm clouds, which Hobbs figured suited the hairless cat to a tee.
“Gracie wants to play,” Lily explained. “But she knows that if she does, George will get in the mix and behave badly. Like that kid in the schoolyard who doesn’t know how to get along? So he ruins the game for everyone else.”
“Yeah.” Hobbs knew exactly what she meant. There was a kid named Todd Wells back in grade school who was awkward and angry most of the time. Nobody wanted to play with him because he cheated at games or said random, rude things out of the blue. Whenever he was invited in he’d steal the dodge ball and go hide with it, run in the middle of the girls’ jump ropes or smear mud all over the monkey bars. Everyone called him Odd Todd. Victor had told Hobbs years later that Odd Todd came from a house where nobody paid attention to him; the parents were always gone and Todd and his older brother were left to fend for themselves.
“If you want to leash up Gracie, I’ll get George.” Lily grabbed a leash from a group of them that hung from pegs on the wall. “We can take them to your house, see how things go.”
Hobbs liked the young lady’s in-charge, no-nonsense attitude. Reminded him a little of Rhett, even though Rhett got on his nerves a good part of the time. But Rhett got things done, and the sort of trust he imparted to his athletes was hard-won and came from the sort of confidence Lily had already cultivated.
“What about all these guys?” Hobbs felt sad to leave them. They’d been so excited to see him, rushing over like eager children when the uncle from out of town came to visit with bags of goodies.
Lily spread her hands out and managed to make contact with every one of them, even the ones settling down with toys. “I’ll be back, my babies,” she said. She turned to Hobbs. “They’ll be okay. We’ll take care of them until they get homed. It’s the ones still out there that I worry about.”
Hobbs took the leash Lily offered and slipped it on Gracie’s collar. She sat up and wagged her tail, looking up at him with her tawny eyes. A wave of sadness rolled through him so hard he felt unsteady on his feet. He hadn’t realized it’d happened until Lily waved a hand in front of his face. “Hey,” she said. “You got this?”
Hobbs blinked, and the moment passed. “Yeah. I got this. Let’s go.”
