“Morning,” I say back, moving my feet quicker to match Huey’s pace, and my mind goes back to where it was before. Trying to put all the pieces together like always. I hate how this is becoming the norm. Did someone see what I did back at that trailer? Was I followed home? There’s a prickly sensation at the back of my neck, and my eyes search frantically around me for signs of anyone who might be suspicious.
Only two other people cross paths with me—one younger blonde woman with her rat terrier and an older gentleman with small weights in his hands. My fingers tighten their grip on Huey’s lead and I walk faster, eager to get back home and lock myself in the comfort of my own space again. I’m safe there. Out here, there are too many noises. Cracking of leaves, snapping branches, chirps of birds, and trampling feet of squirrels.
Voices grow louder at the opposite end of the trail. People are catching up to me. My instincts tell me not to let them. Picking up my speed, I’m the one dragging my pet pig this time, and hestomps his feet, letting me know he’s not a fan of me rushing him.
“Sorry, bud. I’m feeling a bit out of sorts here today.”
He looks up at me, tail wagging as he makes long strides to keep up with me. Sometimes it’s like he understands me. At least better than most people these days. There’s no judgment or pity in his eyes either.
My phone vibrates in my pocket and I sigh, lifting it up to look at who it is. I already know before my eyes reach the screen. It’s him again. Hasn’t he met someone who’ll help him better than I have yet? He does get that no one else requires my assistance as much as he does, right?
I’ve been pretty okay with that too, because it allowed me to have more availability for whenever he needed me. My heart stops when the phone does, feeling foreign in my chest, and as I exit the trail to head back to my house, I’m alerted of someone needing help again.
Henry. For the second time in a row. Was he unable to get hold of someone else? Did I really want him to? I bite at my lower lip with my thumb hovering over the answer button. Every part of me wants to tap it. I need it to be me who is here for him. My breaths skip and my fingers shake as I inhale deeply. I don’t let out the long breath until seconds later.
My phone is still going off, and the longing to ask him what he needs from me hasn’t gone away. My chest aches the longer I go with seeing his name and not answering. He needs me. Not anyone else. Just me. I can’t just leave him hanging. I can’t let him think I’m another person who decided to no longer be here for him.
“Hi,” I say, trying to steady my voice the best I can.
“Hey. You’re actually there.”
“I’m here.”
“I . . . sorry.” He sounds a little strained. “I didn’t mean to ring you again. I have to figure out how to reset this thing again.”
“It’s okay. I was out for a walk.”
“With Huey?” His voice perks up.
“Yeah.” I laugh half-heartedly. “With Huey. Wish you could see what I see right now. The neighborhood is covered in reindeer, Santas, and lights. It’s like a mini–North Pole out here.”
“Yeah? Describe them to me.”
Looking around, I smile and tell him exactly what I see. The snowflakes dangling from trees and roofs. Protectors casting little shows on garage doors and Christmas trees lighting up through the windows. There’s a candy-cane lane next door to me, and on the other side of that house is a gingerbread village.
“Sounds like some of the movies we’ve seen.”
“It does. Want me to walk down further and tell you more, or did you need me to help you with something first?”
A puff of air comes from the other end of the line. “If it’s not too much to ask, I’d like to hear more. What I called for can wait.”
“Okay.” Huey doesn’t seem at all bothered about getting to be outside longer as we walk from house to house. I stop in front of one with singing lights and hold the phone up so he can hear them better.
“‘Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.’One of my favorite Christmas songs.”
“You sure it’s not‘All I Want for Christmas’”by Mariah Carey?”
He laughs. “I’m positive. I’m completely fine going the remainder of my life not hearing that song.”
“So, this is why you went out there alone. You’re hiding from a certain song.”
He laughs again. “Ah. You caught me.”
I walk past a few more houses and even sit inside a sled someone put in front of their house as a photo op for others, going on about how roomy it is.
“Would there be room for me too?”
Glancing beside me, I look at him again and smile. “Yeah.” I scoot all the way to the left, as if to make room for him, and set the phone beside me in the large empty space. “Plenty.”
