I’m at the end of the dog food aisle wondering how long Pamela’s supposedly temporary stay with me will be and exactly how big a bag of dog food I should be buying, when a familiar voice calls out from beyond the shelves. A bundle of fluffy white-and-caramel fur barrels around the corner, nails slipping on the linoleum, before Athena apparently recognizes me. Her ears prick up then flatten down as she sprints toward me, tongue lolling to one side. Normally, I would make myself as big as possible to try to corral her, but all I can think of is four pounds of Pamela inside my shirt, and if I let go of her, she might slip through the bottom and hit the floor where she will promptly become an Athena chew toy.
“Athena. Athena, come back here! Come back. Stop. Stop.” As Charlie comes around the end of the aisle, he freezes, and the blood drains from his face so fast I worry he’s going to pass out.
Athena, for her part, is very interested in the small dog currently trying to dig its way through my chest. Pamela’s nails scrape against my shirt as Athena skids to a halt, nose up as she sniffs at the bottom of my hoodie.
“Oh, hi.” Charlie bends to pick up the leash Athena is dragging behind her.
“You’re talking too much,” I say.
“Yeah.” He rubs the back of his neck, and I take a stumbling half step forward before I catch myself, because I want to rub him too. Now that he’s so close again, I need to touch him.
“Say it once, and wait for her to hear you.” I do my best to hold it together.
“Right.” His mouth twists before he says, “How you been?”
How have I been? I guess the truth isn’t really fit for conversation in the pet store.
“Yeah, not bad.” I jiggle Pamela. “Made a new friend.”
“She’s cute. It’s a she, right?”
“Yeah. Temporary roommate.”
“That’s good.” He finally seems to remember he was chasing his dog and comes forward to grab the leash Athena is dragging behind her. “We came to get one of those puzzle feeders.”
I have thoughts about those, but I don’t really want to get into full trainer mode here. There’s still air to clear from the other day.
“Are you doing anything after?” I say.
“Oh, um...” Charlie glances around, and it’s obvious he’s searching for an answer, but finally his shoulders slump. “No.”
“Wanna grab a coffee?”
To the average listener, it might sound like I’m asking Charlie on a date, but I’m not. This is more like a debrief at best.
“With the dogs?” He chews on his bottom lip uncertainly, and it’s killing me how unwilling he seems. Was it that bad? WasIthat bad? We said this would be causal, so if he’s not into it, that’s fine. No harm, no foul. But it bothers me that I’ve misread him so completely.
“We can grab a seat outside.”
The pet store is in a big box plaza, and there’s a chain cafe a few stores over. I prefer the coffee at Bold Brew, but something says if I tell Charlie I’ll meet him there, he’ll come up with a very important work thing or a family emergency on the drive over and I’ll never see him again.
I’m not one of those people who think dogs should be allowed into every public place, but I keep Pamela tucked in my shirt long enough to go inside and order. A few people coo and make happy faces at her. When we get back outside, I set cups of coffee for me and Charlie down on one of the little cafe tables then set Pamela on the ground. I expect her to try to bolt, but as Charlie takes the seat opposite mine, she does an about face, straining against the leash so she can nose up to Athena. Athena, predictably, is delighted at the attention and the prospect of a new friend and dips into a play bow, tail wagging, and for a minute the dogs do their utmost to dance around the table, despite the restriction of their leashes, before they settle down with Athena on her back, grinning wildly, while Pamela climbs her body, making fearsome growling sounds that would be a lot more intimidating if she were more than a tenth of Athena’s body weight.
“So,” Charlie says.
“So.” Because even if I want to have this conversation,Tell me how I screwed up when we had sex the other day,is not something that just rolls off the tongue.
“I didn’t really picture you as a little dog man.”
I glance at Pamela. She’s pretty much buried in Athena’s fluff, and they both look happy as clams. “It was an unexpected thing.”
We sip our coffees quietly for a moment, and already I’m regretting this, because Charlie will barely meet my eyes.
So you know what? We’re going to rip off the Band-Aid, and then we can both get on with our lives.
“Charlie, I don’t mean to pressure you, but did I do something wrong the other day?”
“What?” He chokes on his latte. “No. Why would you think that?”
