I’m annoyed to be sleeping alone and wake up too early. My gruesome twosome has become a threesome, so I take them for a long, slow walk. Dante and Juniper come back and flop down in their usual spaces in the living room. Pamela circles them anxiously a few times before she curls up against Juniper’s side and sighs contentedly then falls asleep too.
It would be too soon to call Charlie less than twelve hours after I dropped him off, so I spend the morning puttering around the house. When he hasn’t called by lunchtime, I head into town, because I can’t spend my day mooning by the phone.
I take a risk and swing by West’s. We haven’t spoken since the last time I was here. I hesitate in the driveway, but he is truly the closest thing I have to a friend, and friends check in on each other.
My first attempt at knocking is feeble because my hand is shaking. My second is better, but now I’m worried he heard the first time and thinks some impatient asshole is at his door.
I’m just about to give up when footsteps sound inside, and a shadow passes over the front window. When West opens the door, he looks—well, I don’t know what I was expecting, but he looks...fine.
“Hey,” he says with an easy smile.
“Hi.” And now that I’m here, I have absolutely no idea what to say. If I didn’t come here spoiling for a fight, I was at least selfishly hoping to have to deal with West’s baggage for a few hours instead of sliding deeper into my feelings over Charlie. “Are you busy?”
“No.” He holds the door open wider. “Come on in.”
I follow him through the house, and everything looks fine. Tidy. Organized. No sign of mental health crisis or existential angst.
We stand in uncomfortable silence in his living room.
“Can I get you something to drink?” West asks.
“I’m good.”
More silence.
“How have you been?” I say.
He grins awkwardly as he drags a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Look. The last time you were here. That wasn’t a good day. I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“West. If you’re having trouble, you know you can call, right?”
He nods, but he won’t quite meet my eyes. “I’d had a rough night. Lost a contract at work and threw myself a pity party with a few people I used to know. But I didn’t drink. I’ve worked really hard to pull myself back together.”
“Yeah, I know.”
He lets out a long sigh. “I’m fine. If my Nana asks, tell her I’m fine.”
I glance around his apartment. It’s neat. Not compulsively tidy like Charlie’s. Just well kept. And blank. No pictures on the wall. Nothing distinctive about the furniture. Impersonal.
Lonely.
“You ever think about getting a pet?” I ask.
West scrunches up his face. “That really wasn’t an option for a long time.”
“Yeah,” I say, excitement building as an idea percolates. “But it is now. You’re here. You’re sober. You work at home. I’ve actually got a dog who needs a home.”
“Mason.” He holds up a hand. “That’s a big commitment.”
“You could foster. I’m not even sure she’s going to need a permanent home. Her owners might ask for her back tomorrow. But she’s this sweet little terrier who just wants to snuggle. If you could give her that, she’d be great here, and if you can’t keep her long-term, I know a few rescues in town that would have no trouble placing her.”
I feel a little bad splitting Pamela up from Dante and Juniper when she’s obviously getting along with them so well, but West needs her more than they do.
Something brightens behind his eyes. He says, “I’ll think about it,” but we both know he’s going to say yes.
We spend the afternoon the way we often do: sitting in his backyard shooting the shit. I don’t tell him about Charlie. That’s all for me.
As the sky darkens for the evening, I leave West. He says to bring Pamela by tomorrow and we’ll see if they get along. I know they’re going to be buddies.
