The dog lifts a paw and places it over the threshold, almost as if he’s testing thin ice. He hesitates, then darts inside, giving his pelt a shake. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Hopefully, once Fergus sees how friendly Buddy is, he’ll relax. I make myself busy, setting up the food and water bowls in the kitchen and scattering some toys around the living room for Buddy to choose from.
I’m grateful I have the day off so I can supervise Buddy. Fergus keeps darting looks at the dog from where he’s sitting at the kitchen counter. He even flinches when Buddy goes past him. Buddy jumps at the sudden movement and scurries across the room.
Man, they’re so fucking weird around each other. “Hey, Buddy, wanna watch some TV?” I pat the sofa. Buddy doesn’t hesitate to jump up and join me, laying his big head in my lap with a contented huff. “What a sweet fella,” I say, glancing at Fergus and hoping he’ll notice Buddy’s cuddly nature.
Fergus wrinkles his nose in distaste. “If he sheds on the sofa, you’re cleaning it up.”
I raise both hands in surrender. “Fine.” As I continue season three ofYou,I keep sensing Fergus’s eyes on us. Seriously, would he relax? It’s a dog, not an alligator. Unable to focus, I pause the show and look over the back of the sofa at Fergus. “Is this going to be a problem? You told me you were fine with boarding a dog.”
Fergus’s shoulders stiffen. “That was before I knew how big he was.”
“I showed you a picture of him.”
“Yes, well… I forgot.”
Damn it, what am I going to do? I’m technically doing this for Jamie’s friend, but I don’t want to disappoint Jamie by going back on my word and dumping the dog on him. Jamie’s a nice guy, tips really well too, and I want to stay on friendly terms with him. “Look, Gramps, the dog’s staying. I’m helping out a friend of my new regular. Just give him a chance. He’s sweet.” Buddy nudges my hand with his big, cold nose, reminding me that I’d stopped petting him. “Sorry, fella,” I say, resuming the strokes between his ears.
“I’ll try,” Fergus says. He places his empty mug in the dishwasher and heads to the bathroom. When the shower starts running, I relax back onto the sofa. Crisis averted. Maybe.
After finishing the remaining minute of the episode, I decide it’s time for something a bit more lighthearted. A comedy or a romance. I don’t usually watch or readromance, but there’s a sexy actor I like who is starring in a new rom-com. Maybe some eye candy will cheer me up.
I put on the movie, but instead of distracting myself, my mood worsens the more madly in love the couple becomes. Did I make a mistake when I rejected Lyall? If I called him right now and apologized, would he forgive me? For what feels like the tenth time that day, I check my phone and find no new messages. No surprise there. I rejected him. Of course he’s going to be a decent guy and respect my decision.
No, enough of this. I made my choice, and it was the right one. All my relationships have ended in disaster. This one wouldn’t have been any different.
But being with him felt so right…
Yeah, for now, I remind myself with a sigh. Relationships always feel great in the beginning until the rose-tinted glasses come off and leave me disappointed in them, or the other way around.
“Ugh, stop it,” I mutter, smacking my forehead. “You made the right choice. End of story.”
Buddy lifts his head from my lap and whines at me. I’m still petting him, so I don’t know what the problem is. “What?” I ask, looking down into his big green eyes. Buddy watches me with a tilt of his head. Maybe he can smell my bad mood.
“I’m fine,” I tell him, then snort at myself. Am I seriously going to talk to a dog right now? Better than ventingto my granddad or my friends. Lately my problems all boil down to the same thing, and I don’t want to annoy them. Just because they’re supportive doesn’t mean I should take advantage of that. “Okay, I’m not. I feel like shit, Bud.”
I should feel stupid, but it feels good to get things off my chest. Animals are great listeners, and they don’t judge.
“Is there a girl dog you like? Or a boy dog. That’s fine too. Can dogs be gay? Ugh. Never mind.” I scratch between his ears. Buddy stares up at me, tongue lolling as he pants. He’s probably waiting for me to say a word he knows likefoodortreatorball. But it looks like he’s listening. “Well, there’s this guy. He’s really sweet. Super sexy. We had tons of fun together and I felt great around him. But I’ve been burned by so many guys before. Every time I think I’ve found my person, it never works out.”
Buddy stops panting and tilts his head, whining low in his chest.
I run my fingers through his fur, sighing. “I had a really good feeling about him, but I’ve been wrong before. So many times. I don’t know how to trust my instincts anymore. I want to call him, tell him I’m sorry. I’m too much of a damn coward. Lyall’s never going to want to see me again anyway. I blew it for good.”
Buddy paws at me suddenly, making me jump.
“What?”
He whines and nudges my hand with his nose.
I rub his head and his tail swishes side to side.
“You’re a real sweetheart, you know that?”
Jamie was right. Buddy really is a great therapist.
By the end of the weekend, things are still off with Fergus and Buddy. Fergus keeps watching us whenever we’re sitting together, and Buddy avoids Fergus like he’s a bag of garbage. Don’t dogs like garbage? A bag of cats, maybe. I feel a little uneasy when I leave them alone to go to work at the bar later that evening. Buddy was snoozing on the sofa when I left, and Fergus was in his room reading. Hopefully, they’ll stay away from each other.
About two hours into my shift, a pleasant Anders-and-Jamie-shaped distraction walks in through the doors and waves at me. I was bummed when Franklin texted to tell me he and Tom weren’t coming in this week since they were in California visiting family.
