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No more pee, though. Vannah’s carpet took the brunt of it. I scoop him up and open the door. “I guess little no-name and I will be going,” I say.
She opens her mouth and then closes it.
I have no idea what she was going to say. And I don’t ask. “I guess I’ll see you Tuesday for the appointment.”
She nods. “Thank you. I’ll pay you back for Sydney.”
“Whenever.”
I walk toward her, still carrying the pup. I give her a quick peck on the lips. “See you later, Vannah.”
She nods.
And I leave.
37
SAVANNAH
My heart breaks a little when Falcon leaves. He spent the night here, after all. I didn’t mean for him to. It just kind of happened. And my God… That sex was incredible.
Sydney is a sweet dog. I take her out to the backyard, and she pees and poops like the good girl that she is. Then I bring her back in, and I show her around, talking to her as if she were a person.
It’s been so long since I’ve had a dog. Not since high school. I’ve missed it.
And I wonder… Maybe there’s a reason why I haven’t gotten a dog. Sure, I say it’s because I never lived in a place that allows dogs, but I could’ve easily found a place that did.
The truth is that dogs remind me of Michael.
Michael was two years older than I am. He and I were close, and he loved dogs just as much as I do.
It’s been a long time since he died.
I’ve been missing out on having a dog.
Sydney is just the sweetest. She’s got the cutest floppy ears and the prettiest light brown eyes. If I had to guess, I’d say she was part Golden Retriever and part German Shepherd. With maybe something smaller blended in. She’s about forty pounds. A great size.
“Would you like to go on a walk?” I ask her.
A leash also came in the bag of goodies the shelter sent home with her.
Has she ever been on a leash? No problem if she hasn’t. I know how to train a dog to walk on a leash.
I paw through the bag, looking for the leash, when Sydney’s whine meets my ears.
She’s looking at me, those gorgeous brown eyes sad. And she’s whimpering.
I pet her silky head. “You miss your puppy, don’t you?”
She licks my hand but continues whining.
“Come here.” I sit down on the couch and motion her to join me, patting the seat next to me. She jumps up and lies down, still whining a little. I stroke her head again, scratching her behind her soft ears.
“I know. I know you miss your puppy.” I sigh. “Maybe we’ll see him soon.”
The universe seems to be sending Falcon Bellamy into the center of my life.
But he’s got so much baggage.
And he has no idea of my own baggage.
Of the things I never talk about.
Not even to Gert.
The things that haunt me, the things I try to forget, and the things that inevitably make it into the front of my mind more often than I’d like.
Falcon Bellamy may have his secrets.
But I have mine as well.
Like the real reason I left Austin.
The real reason this job in Summer Creek was an offer I couldn’t refuse.
Sometimes, like Sydney here, I just want to whimper at the losses.
And sometimes, I wish someone would just adopt me from a shelter and take care of me.
I can’t hide forever though. I will eventually have to go home to Austin. I will eventually have to see my family, explain my decision.
When I took the new job, I swore up and down that I would be the most ethical parole officer the state of Texas has ever seen.
But what was the first thing I did? I slept with my parolee.
So much for ethics.
On the other hand… Sleeping with a parolee is the least of my sins.
Seems no matter how far I go, no matter how much I wish to change the circumstances of my life…
The past follows me.
The past haunts me.
And the past will never let me go.
38
FALCON
Back at my place, I find the old kennel that I used for Sam before everything went south.
“Now, what are we going to name you?” I take the pup outside, tell him to pee and poop.
He looks at me like I have two heads.
Then he whines a little.
“Yeah, I know, you miss your mama.” I crouch down and stroke his soft muzzle. “But you just won the puppy jackpot. I’m going to take great care of you.”
Finally he scampers off the deck, heads out into the green grass, and sniffs around. He barks as a butterfly flies by. A silly little puppy. I find myself smiling, which I don’t do often.
“I think your name is Sam,” I say. “Named after your brother who I didn’t get to raise.”
