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“Good evening, Willis,” I say as I place my basket on the counter and take out the contents for him to scan.
“Evening, Marlow,” he greets me, his amber eyes sparkling with warmth. “Where’s your little sidekick tonight? He’s usually with you.”
Despite his unruly behavior, Waffles has made more friends in Aspen Grove than I have.
Since he knocked down an entire display of oranges when he spotted a cat outside, Willis has him hang out behind the counter while I shop. He likes to give Waffles a homemade meatball while he waits.
“He was tuckered out from our afternoon walk, so I left him home to rest.” I return the empty basket near the front entrance before coming back to stand at the counter.
Willis chuckles. “Those little legs can only carry him so far, I suppose.”
He’s right. Waffles might have the energy of a purebred Australian Shepherd, but his corgi genes get in the way of his aspirations.
“Bring him next time, will you? I’m trying a new meatball recipe that I want him to taste.”
“You got it, Willis.”
Once he’s finished ringing everything up, I pay for my groceries and help him bag everything into the two reusable totes I brought with me.
“You’re all set,” he announces triumphantly when everything’s loaded in the bags.
“Thanks so much. I hope you have a great night.”
“You too.” He pats me on the hand. “Be sure to give Waffles a treat when you get home. He deserves one after that long walk today.” He pushes my groceries toward me.
“Don’t worry, he’ll be eating like a king tonight.”
“Good, good,” he says, nodding in approval. “See you soon, kid.”
I take the bags off the counter and give Willis a parting smile. Another patron kindly opens the door for me on their way into the store.
Stepping outside, I inhale deeply before I begin my walk home, realizing just how much I’ve come to appreciate living in Aspen Grove. Everyone is friendly and always willing to help each other out.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve struggled with fitting in, driven by my constant urge for change and inability to stay in one place for very long. While I enjoy traveling and experiencing new cultures, I’ve felt like something has been missing. No matter how many countries I’ve visited, new people I meet, or adventures I pursue, I’ve never felt satisfied.
When I adopted Waffles, he filled a void that I never knew existed. We instantly became a family and moved to Aspen Grove shortly after. It’s one of the only places I’ve lived where I feel like I can be myself without being judged or scrutinized for being different.
For the first time in my life, I think I’ve found a place I could settle down.
The glow of the streetlights illuminates my walk home. As I approach Dylan’s house, Johanna’s red 4Runner turns onto the street and pulls into his driveway. She steps out of the vehicle and waves at me as she circles the car to help Lola out of the backseat.
The front door of the house swings open, and Dylan steps onto the front porch, dressed in black slacks and a white dress shirt with the top button undone. With his shirtsleeves rolled up, his muscular forearms are on full display. His hair is tousled, as if he’s run his hand through it all day. I focus my gaze forward and keep walking, not wanting him to lecture me for gawking, but I don’t get far.
“What are you doing?” he shouts from the porch. A stern look crosses his face, his eyes darkened with concern.
When I turn back, he’s marching down the driveway, heading straight for me.
Great, what have I done now?
I had hoped we’d be on better terms after yesterday.
He stops in front of me and gives me a disapproving stare. “You shouldn’t be out this late by yourself.”
“I had to go to the grocery store.” A blush spreads across my cheeks while I rearrange the bags in my hand. I’m perplexed by the protective vibes rolling off of Dylan and how I’m finding him more attractive because of it.
“Why are you out so late?” I retort.
His brow shoots up in a challenge. “I’m not the one wandering around alone at night,” he says incredulously.
