JAKE
I think I’m the lucky one. I like having someone need me.
I need you, too.
The words hung in my head, but if it ever had been there, the time to speak them had passed.
ME
Then you are both lucky.
35
Ilet my hand rest protectively on the top of Brick’s head. I felt the dog vibrating against my leg and second-guessed the choices that led us to this place. I could have said no to Maria when she asked me to speak at the Crescent City Canines benefit. I might have if it had been anyone other than Julianna organizing it. Between them, the two women convinced me to share Brick and my story in the hope that it would inspire the crowd to open their wallets and more importantly their homes.
I’d do just about anything to help Brick’s kennel mates, even if it meant uncomfortable clothes and potentially embarrassing attention on us both. Maria deserved all the support she could get for the animals she helped. I could write a check but it was the foster and adopting homes that made the biggest difference in the animals’ lives. The nicest kennel in the world didn’t replace cuddles and walks with a forever friend. If we could inspire even one person to do that, it would be worth it.
Standing in the wings next to us, Maria looked as nervous as I felt. I touched her arm, calling her attention to me for a moment.
“You are going to be brilliant,” I said. “The dogs are so lucky to have you.”
“Thanks, Jake. It means so much to me that you agreed to do this. I know you don’t love this kind of thing.”
“It’s that obvious?” We’d never talked about my social anxiety. I didn’t like that it was so easy for people to notice.
“Only to someone who’s really paying attention. The way that you did for him.” She bent to scratch Brick’s head, and I felt him relax against my leg.
At least none of us had to do this alone. Maria was going to explain the shelter’s mission statement and talk about the need and importance of good foster homes. Brick and I were going to show them the benefits of taking a dog into their lives. Piece of cake. That’s what I kept telling myself. And if I concentrated on Maria and the dog’s nerves, I had less space for my own. I knew I was asking a lot of the dog and the last thing I wanted to do was let my nerves make his worse.
“Ready?” asked Maria, touching my arm in an echo of my previous action. I felt her fingertips tremble as though she still battled her own set of nerves.
“Whenever you are.” I gave her a wink as Julianna finished her introduction, and she stepped onto the stage.
“Thank you so much for coming today and for supporting our dogs. I started Crescent City Canines as a way to care for the puppies who’d gotten lost or abandoned during Hurricane Katrina, but over the years, it’s grown into so much more.”
If Maria had been nervous before, she certainly didn’t sound it now. I stroked Brick’s head while I listened to her explain to the audience the rescue’s mission statement and recount the number of animals they’d been able to help. She detailed volunteer opportunities and then I heard her start to talk about our story—mine and Brick’s.
“Not every dog makes a good first impression. Sometimes it’s because they are scared. Sometimes it’s because they’ve been given a good reason not to trust people. To assume the worstinstead of expecting the best.” She glanced to where the dog and I stood waiting. “It takes a special person to be able to look past that to see the real dog and not just the nerves and fear. I’d like to introduce you to a person who did just that.”
I pushed back against the embarrassment as she detailed the things I’d done for the shelter, but when she talked about Brick and what a good dog he wanted to be if he only got the chance, I let the smile take me.
“I’d like to introduce you to Brick and Jake, but before I do, I want to ask you to hold your applause—not because they don’t deserve it—they absolutely do, but because Brick is still getting used to his new life outside of the kennel and the noise might be too much for him.”
I could see the audience nodding in agreement, clearly eager to comply.
Maria glanced at me and tilted her head, asking without words if we were ready. I nodded, ready for this and for whatever came next. Brick and I were done hiding. I gave his head one more reassuring pat and then we stepped out onto the stage.
The light hit us, and he hesitated. I gave the leash a gentle tug, and he stepped into place beside me, his pressure against my leg a reassurance for both of us. Maria bent to greet Brick, and I heard the audience’s collective sigh as the dog relaxed and wiggled with joy.
Maria straightened, and I kissed her on the cheek. She took a step back but didn’t leave the stage. We agreed it would be better for Brick if she stayed so he knew he had two people who loved him close by.
“We talk a lot about rescuing dogs and what we can do for them, but I can tell you without a doubt that Brick and I rescued each other. Scientific problems and numbers have always been easier for me—more comfortable than interacting with people. I’ve had a fair bit of professional success, but none of that helpedwith my natural introversion.” I glanced at the audience and saw a few people nodding along.
“For the longest time, I thought that meant I’d always be alone. That I’d get so wrapped up in my thoughts that caring for another living thing was beyond me.” Squinting against the lights, I pictured Elena’s face. The way she’d surrendered to my touch and the way she’d trusted me to take care of her.
I wouldn’t be standing on the stage in a sports coat and pants that felt like they were attacking me if it weren’t for her. And there was no way I’d have Brick if she hadn’t shown me I could take care of another living thing.
“I have a friend who showed me that wasn’t true. She helped me see the lie I’d been telling myself. And then I met Brick and honestly, everything I’d been worried about fell away because he needed me too.” I looked down at the dog, who took that moment to let out a soft woof before resting his head against my leg, his entire posture telegraphing trust.
