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“No shit is right.” Emily drops her hand on my forearm. “Thank you for coming out with us. It’s nice to have the gang together.” Her hand on my forearm feels awkward, but I don’t move.
“No problem.” I set my drink down. “I don’t need an ‘I-told-you-so’, but getting out of the house is nice. Might need to do it more.”
“Getting out is fun. It’s also nice to see you.”
I cough behind a closed mouth.
“I heard you went to a dog thing.”
“Who told you?”
“Shiloh.”
Her name sends shivers through my limbs. Sometimes, I take a spin around the taproom to look at her. Seeing her smile is the best part of my day. My dad taking Koda would make her burst confetti. The wheels in my mind turn.
“We picked up a very energetic German shepherd. Same coloring as Woody. Maybe we can see if Dad wants him.”
“I don’t think Dad is ready for another dog. He cried over the Fosters’ twelve-year-old Shepherd the other day.”
“Really? I think Dad will like this dog.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, my sister’s head swivels. “Huh. Is Shiloh getting to you, Jackson?”
“No,” I say. My blood pressure rises. Maybe it was a mistake to come out. I breathe in and out. This is fine. I am fine. “Dad likes dogs. There’s one that might be a good fit for him and needs a home. That’s all.”
Emily’s eyes narrow on me. I spent one pleasant afternoon with a beautiful-inside-and-out employee. That’s it. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“I’m not looking at you like anything.” Emily swirls her straw in her drink. “We can mention it to Dad, but we shouldn’t push anything.”
“We can see if the dog gets adopted in the next few months, and if not…”
“Yeah, that’s a good plan.”
I brush my hair away from my face, although it’s tied back in a ponytail.
“You can have a professional cut it, you know. Wouldn’t accidentally give you bangs.”
Last time I tried to cut it, I cut the front pieces too short and now they don’t reach the elastic my hair ends up in, most of the time. No matter how big of a pain in the ass, I refuse to cut it. The last time it was short was when I was happy.
“It might be time for a change, Jackson,” Emily says.
It’s my turn to swivel my head. “You’ve been single almost as long as me.”
“I have an excuse. She’s eight years old and loves raccoons.”
“You deserve love.”
“So do you.” I chug the rest of my drink and let out a sigh. “I just got out of the house. Baby steps.”
“And I just told my very opinionated daughter to cool it with the raccoons. To baby steps.” Our glasses come together, and Emily drains the rest of hers.
“I’ll get you another.”
“Thanks, Jackson. Gin and tonic, please.”
I head to the bar. Carl, the owner, is a good man, and the folks at the bar care more about bullshitting than what I’m doing.
My shoulders relax, and I take a deep breath. No one stares at me or asks questions. This is a nice time. I’m glad I came.
