Speaking of which… “Can you keep an eye on Junkyard for me? I need to make a call.”
“Yeah, sure.”
I bring them into the break room. There’s the usual kitchenette and space to eat, along with a ratty couch, a reclining chair, asecondhand TV, and a bunch of dog beds and toys so we can socialize them in a more homelike normal environment. Piston grabs the remote and flicks on the TV like he’s at home. He sprawls out on the couch with Junkyard happily curling up next to him, her head leaning against his leg. Piston has an arm draped over the back of the couch, and I get the urge to curl up next to him just like the dog.
I slip out the door and call Natalie.
"Sandra? Something up? I thought you'd be home by now." Natalie sounds confused and a little dazed, like she just woke up from a nap. She's been tired lately, another reason I don't like bothering her.
"I'm okay, but we had a stray brought in and I’m going to be stuck here for a while longer. Just didn't want you to worry."
“You’re about ten years too late for that.” She’s only teasing, but the reminder of how long I’ve been a burden still hits home. “Do you need anything? Quickshot’s home. I could ask him to bring some food over for you. I’m testing out a new recipe and have a ton of extra cookies."
"Thanks, but I’ll figure something out. Don’t let the guys eat everything, though.” Extra treats are hard to keep around with three men and a little boy in the house.
She laughs. “I’ll hide some just for you. How’s the stray?”
“She’s a total sweetheart, and her name is Junkyard.”
“Junkyard? Who named her? Carl? That definitely wasn’t your idea.” In the background I hear my nephew Clark asking about cookies. “That sounds like something only a man would come up with.”
“Yeah, the guy who brought her in picked it.” I feel a little funny not telling her about Piston and the others. I will eventually. It’s not a secret exactly, just a truth I haven’t mentioned yet. After the phone call, I do a walk-through of the kennels and go back to check on Piston and Junkyard.
There’s a baseball game on the TV, and he glances up when I walk in, smiling when he sees me. “I ordered Chinese. Hope you don’t mind. If you want to kick me out I’ll just take it with me.”
“I am kinda hungry…” I kick off my sneakers and settle onto the couch next to him, pulling my feet up under me. Junkyard is fast asleep on his other side. “So, who’s winning?”
4
SANDRA
My alarm clock is a cold,wet nose in the side of my neck. “Ah! What?—?”
Junkyard’s chin is resting on the couch, her amber eyes staring straight at me. I’m curled up under a blanket in the break room. Our empty take-out containers are on the counter of the kitchenette, but Piston is nowhere to be found. I remember taking her out to do her business before our food came last night, and dozing with my head on the pillow and my toes tucked under his thigh while the sports announcers lulled me to sleep.
What time is it? I swipe for my phone, knocking it onto the floor first with sleep clumsy hands. Crap. It’s already half an hour after I should be feeding the dogs and getting their kennels cleaned out, but my mouth feels like it has wall to wall carpeting and I could really use a shower, not to mention a change of clothes.
Junkyard whines, her tail hanging low and swishing impatiently.
“Ok, ok. It’s not your fault. Food and potty time, I get it.” She follows close behind as I roll off the couch and head towards thekennels. Her ears go back at the sound of barking on the other side of the door. “Don’t worry. I know the first day at a new place is scary, but you’ll make friends in no time. As much fun as it’s been to hang out, you can’t just run around loose all day. The other dogs will get jealous, and I can’t be here twenty-four seven.”
“Oh, hey! You’re awake.” Carl is already in place, doing the morning feeding routine when I open the door.
“Wait. If you’re here already, why didn’t you wake me up?”
He flushes. “Sorry, but your boyfriend told me to let you sleep.”
Detch Canine Rescue is a small operation. Travis Jones, the owner; me, the only full time employee and general do-everything girl, and a few volunteers. Carl is the most consistent, and he’s the only one that’s sticking around for the summer so we’re paying him as a part-timer until classes start back up again. He’s a few years younger than me, studying architecture and landscape design. His passions are zoo enclosures, habitat design, indie rock, and cornering anyone who’s willing to talk to him about any of that.
“Boyfriend? You mean Piston? He’s not my boyfriend.”
“If you say so.” Carl adjusts his glasses nervously. “All I know is that it felt more like an order than a suggestion. I want to live so I didn’t exactly ask a lot of questions. He said to tell you he’d be back later.”
“If you want to live?” I stare at him, waiting for the laugh but it doesn’t come. “Oh, come on. He’s not scary.”
Carl’s jaw drops. “He was armed, Sandra! I saw it when he put hisgangjacketon.”
“It’s an MC.”
