Theo
Fable:Things you left at the A-frame:
Fable:
Theo:In case you get thirsty.
Fable:ew
Theo:We’re a couple. We can share drinks.
Fable:
Theo:So you have something to sniff when you miss me.
Fable:ew
Fable:
“Come back in next week and we’ll see how that hot spot is doing,” I tell Hal and Omar as they follow me out of the exam room. Their beagle, Elphaba, is wrapped in a blanket in Hal’s arms, a giant plastic cone circling her head.
Omar sticks out his bottom lip and pets her muzzle. “Got the cone of shame, baby girl.”
“She’ll be out of it in no time,” I assure them.
Hal shakes my hand. “Thanks for fitting us in.”
“No problem.” I’m waving goodbye when Garrett rounds the corner with a wide grin.
He has a paper bag with a Ladybug Café logo in one hand and two large drinks tucked into his other arm. “I got us lunch. You still like their Italian sub? No tomatoes?”
Surprised, I reach for the drinks. “Yeah. Perfect. Thanks.”
I follow him into his office, where my gaze immediately cuts to his wall of pictures. He and his wife, Piper, moved here after college, and they’ve been an active part of this community ever since. If I didn’t like the guy so much, I’d be jealous of his ability to fit in here so easily. But it’s hard to hate him when he’s exactly the kind of guy I’d love to go into business with. Thoughtful, patient, respectful to anyone who comes through those doors. Instead of being jealous, I admire the hell out of him.
He empties the bag on his desk and nudges my sandwich toward me. “Here you go.”
“Thanks. You really didn’t have to get me lunch.” I take the seat across from him and open my container.
“Thought it might make our planning meeting more fun,” he says, blue eyes twinkling. His chair creaks as he reaches behind him to grab two papers out of the printer. “I typed up everything I have already for the adopt-a-thon, but I was hoping we could chat about making this year’s event a little bigger.”
“Absolutely.” I scan the full page, my throat going dry. There’s already so much here. Vendors, volunteers, donations from local businesses. “This is... Wow. You’ve made a lot of progress.”
He nods, peeling the wrapper away from his sandwich. “Since it’s happening the same weekend as the Thimbleberry Festival, I wanted to get a head start on reserving things.” He chews through a bite. “I’m in a bowling league with Carl, over at Premier Rentals. So, we started talking the other night about tables and chairs, and he volunteered to bring some over that morning. Then we ran into Mrs. LaGrande at the diner the other night, and her team is going to make like ten dozen scones for us.”
I blow out a slow breath. “That’s great.” And by great, I mean shitty. Because I’ve officially done nothing to help with this project, while Garrett has already handled most of it. I’m at a disadvantage without the same community connections he has built over the years.
Historically, the adopt-a-thon is a small event. They set up a few portable fences in the town square and let the animals lure in the parade attendees. From what I hear, the timing has worked out well in the past, ensuring they have a great turnout, and Garrett says last year, every single pet got adopted. But this list—with tables, chairs, food, a few sponsors—seems a lot more extensive than in the past.
Garrett sets his sandwich down and wipes his hands on a napkin. “How do you feel about reaching out to some local rescues and shelters in neighboring towns to try and get as many animals adopted as we can? Might run into some issues with transporting them here, but if we can coordinate enough volunteers, it could work out.”
I grab a pen from a cup on his desk to write down the rescues and shelters I know off the top of my head. “Sounds great. Ican get that started this afternoon.”
“We could also use some advertisements in local towns.” His shoulders lift. “I’m not great with social media, but maybe Jenna can help with that.”
“Yeah, I’ll chat with her. Get as many people here as we can.”
While we eat, we brainstorm a few more rescues I can reach out to.
