AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Oh.” Deep sadness blooms in my chest. We pass neighbors out on their porch or folks watering their plants. They all greet us, and Jackson holds up his hand in acknowledgment. We keep walking.
“I had friends. But when Amy died, I isolated myself. I let lots of good friendships go. Some didn’t know how to deal with my grief. Most people don’t know what to do when it’s been eighteen months and I still couldn’t get out of bed some days because I missed her so much. In some ways, I feel like I’m finally moving on in ten years and that’s terrifying.”
I feel this in my soul. I’ve stopped thinking about Rory every morning when I wake up. The other day, I realized I hadn’t thought about him at all, and it caused me to break down.
He was really gone.
I can’t imagine what it must be like to lose a spouse. I’ve never had a romantic love that strong, and whatever I feel for Jackson is a small crush, nothing more. It’s not like I’m falling in love with him or anything.
He touches my arm and I turn. “I’m sorry that I ignored you. Forgive me. And can I please pet the dog now?”
“You’re forgiven,” I say, stopping. Jackson kneels, and the dog beelines toward him, jumping and outstretching his paws on his knees.
“Hi, buddy, what’s up? Did you get any turkey on Turkey Day? Oh, you’re my little buddy.”
I cover a laugh as I watch them together. Jackson sits down on the pavement and allows the twenty-five-pound dog jump all over him, bathing his face with kisses. Ever since he started joining me on walks, Jackson says he liked this dog because their names were similar. I laughed out loud when he said that.
“What do you say, Sunny? Do you forgive me?”
“Yes, I do,” I say. A car rolls by slowly, watching the town recluse lose his mind over a French bulldog. “The townsfolk are seeing you.”
“Let them. I’m on a walk with a great person and a great dog.”
That makes me melt.
He stands and we continue walking, making a right onto Turner, encountering our first baby hill to tire out this pooch.
“It’s cold today,” I say, shivering.
“You’re always cold,” he says. “Here.”
He opens his jacket. Because of his size I could probably tuck myself under his armpit and hide like candy you take into the movies. Snuggling into him is not the best idea.
He just called me his best friend. Mentioned Amy.
There’s nothing more than friendship for us, and that must be enough. I’m cold and his body is so warm. My heart beats faster.
“I’m okay. We should speed up and get back.”
“Do you think the short legs can handle it?”
“Hey!” I say.
“I meant the dog.”
“Oh,” I say with a laugh and look down at the pooch. We do have to watch French bulldogs on walks because of their flat faces and how small their nostrils are for them to breathe. Jacques is doing great, even though I’m speeding back to his house. My teeth chatter. “I think he’ll be fine.”
We hang a right on Grant.
“What’s going on with the German shepherd we picked up? Koda?”
“As good as can be expected. The fosters are working on manners with him, working on reactivity. We’ve had a few people express interest, but I think the foster mom is being particular. She has four so she can’t necessarily keep him, but she really wants him to go to a good home.”
He nods. “My dad should really meet that dog.”
“I think he should. The rescue owner loves Woody Finch and knows the story. It might work out. Let your dad know, and I can set up a meet-and-greet.”
“If we get my dad in the same room as that dog, he will adopt him. One hundred percent.”
