Holden
When all the dogs in the restaurant, including Ossie, barked as though there was a home invasion, I scanned the large room, finally noticing two sleek black dogs—or maybe they were some cross bred shepherd-wolf mix—coming into the dog-friendly side of the restaurant from a hallway in the back. The leashed giants were well-behaved and didn’t seem to notice the chaos around them, which was surprising.
Their handler, a handsome man with wild black hair, clad in leather, scanned the room before he said something to the dogs in another language and rushed out the front door of the restaurant. When he glanced in our direction, I could have sworn his eyes glowed red. They were probably contacts. Though, as I thought about it, the dogs’ eyes were red as well. I’d love to see someone try to put contacts in the eyes of those giant canines.
I turned to see Avery was staring at the door with a look of fright on his face. “Everything okay?” He seemed lost in a memory or something, struggling to move for a second.
Suddenly, his body jerked, and he cleared his throat before wiping his hands on his jeans. He turned to me, his pallor pale.
“What’s wrong? Are you afraid of big dogs? They looked fierce, but the handler seemed to have them under control.” Someone could love small dogs and be scared to death of big ones. Not every dog was friendly.
“No, no. Just, uh, trying to decide what to order.”
“Do you have allergies to worry about? You want help deciding?” How could ordering lunch be so overwhelming? But then again, maybe I had quirks others would think were weird. Who was I to judge anyone else’s oddities?
“I’ve struggled with making decisions in the past. Not for ordering food or anything, just things that could be life changing. Anyway, everything I’ve had here is good. Whatshould we get for Oscar?” He handed me the doggy menu to change the subject.
I glanced at the menu shaped like a dog bone. It was damn cute. They had pooch in a blanket, which was a chicken sausage wrapped in a dog-friendly wheat pastry. Dog patties, which were hamburger patties with cheese, or a dog’s breakfast—eggs, chicken sausage, and cheese. They had a doggy latte which was whipped cream, and puppy ice cream.
“I’ve never seen anything like this before. Let’s go with the dog’s breakfast. I’ve got him on low-cal dog food because he’s a little portly, but a cheat meal won’t hurt him. Now, what about me?”
I read the human menu and decided on a chicken pot pie and a salad. Everything looked delicious, and as I read the menu, my mouth watered. I was starving.
“You decided yet?” The server dropped off our beers.
“I’d like a meatball sub. You wanna share some fries and onion rings?” Avery glanced at me, and I nodded. Sounded good to me. It wasn’t like we were going to make out or anything.
The server left to place our order and I trained my gaze on Avery. “What’s going on?”
Avery exhaled. “I’m just freaking out because of what it’s going to cost me for Brooke’s car. A charge came through on my card for—” Avery was staring at his phone before he abruptly stopped talking.
“How much? Is the guy ripping you off? I can talk to him. Some people are opportunists.” It pissed me off when some asshole took advantage of anyone they believed they could scam.
Avery was probably not too long out of college, so maybe he had student loan debt to worry about. He’d mentioned his start-up business with his friends, and having done the same myself, I knew how rough it could be to get yourself established.
“It was five hundred, but that was for the tow and to store the car, I guess. Anyway, I transferred money from my savings to cover it and our lunch. Again, Holden, I can’t thank you enough for taking me to Virginia to deal with the car situation. It was kind of you.”
I tried to give him a smile, but I knew too well how a shortage of money could affect a person’s life. “It was no trouble at all. I didn’t have anything going on today. I’m on emergency calls until my partners come back on the second. Are you missing a day of work for this?”
“No. We closed the shop until the fifth because we don’t have any projects lined up for next year. We had several Christmas campaigns that we finished before the middle of the month. During the last part of December, we tried a big marketing push for our services, discounting multimedia projects and offering coupons for work scheduled in December to be done next year, hoping to expand our customer base. I’m sorry to say it didn’t pay off as much as we’d hoped. God, what am I going to do?” Avery’s expression quickly morphed into worry.
I wasn’t great with feelings. Obviously, the way Christmas at my childhood home had gone a few days ago, it was no surprise to anyone who knew me that I was done with sad holidays.
I reached over the table and took Avery’s hand resting on top. “Look, Avery, there’s a lot going on with starting a new business. I did it myself, so I completely understand the pressure. Then, add on this accident that wasn’t your fault, and you’re dealing with a mountain of bullshit falling on your head. Just take a breath right now. Nothing that happened to Brooke’s car can’t be fixed by one means or another.
“The trucking company will have to pay for the damagestheirdriver caused by driving too fast on an icy road and batting you off the highway. You might even be able to go after them for your medical expenses, regardless of how much or how littlethey amount to. You need to contact the officer investigating the accident so you can get the trucking company’s information to supply to Brooke’s insurance company.They’llgo after them in court, if necessary. This shouldn’t come back on you at all.”
My parents had been too heartbroken to pursue a legal case against the trucking company responsible for Holly’s death. All I heard from Mom and Dad was, “No amount of money will bring your sister back.” I knew it was true, but it still pissed me off.
Avery clutched my hand for a moment, sending my heart into a pounding frenzy before he let go. “Thank you, Holden. I really appreciate your insight and advice on what to do about the car. This is the first bad accident I’ve ever had.”
I chuckled, reminiscing about my own vehicle mishaps. “I’ve had two. Once, when I was first learning to drive my father’s truck. It was a manual transmission, and I flooded the engine at a stop sign. The damn thing wouldn’t budge regardless of how many times I tried to start it.
“The car behind me decided that if I wouldn’t move, they’d push me out of the way. They hit me at about ten miles an hour, which was enough to fuck up my dad’s truck. He was pissed for a minute, but in the end, he was glad I was okay.”
Avery laughed. “Oh, I understand that. I backed my father’s car into our garage when I was practicing for my driving test. He wasn’t happy about it.”
We laughed together again, but I didn’t let go of his hand. His touch was important to me, though I didn’t know why. I believed I could feel his heartbeat through his fingers, and something seemed to click inside me.
