She’s already moving toward the door, her initial fright giving way to genuine delight.
“What’s he doing out there? It’s freezing tonight!” She flings the door open. “Oxford, come in here this instant!”
I exchange a look with Finn. “Did she just invite a llama inside?”
Oxford hesitates at the threshold, as if considering whether to accept the invitation. His head tilts slightly, those intelligent eyes sweeping the interior before he takes one deliberate step inside, then another.
“I can’t believe you’re out wandering in this cold,” Melody scolds, closing the door behind him. “Where’s your scarf? Did you lose the one I gave you?”
The llama makes a soft humming noise.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t come for your walk today,” she continues, genuinely distressed. “I got caught up helping at the bakery, and then I was making dinner…”
She trails off, staring at Oxford like she’s had a revelation. Then, she dashes across the room to the Christmas tree, where a small mountain of wrapped presents.
“I have the perfect thing!” she calls over her shoulder, dropping to her knees and rifling through the gifts. “It was supposed to be for my uncle, but he’s not coming, and frankly, he never appreciates my gifts anyway.”
Oxford watches her with what I swear is curiosity, his long neck extended toward the tree.
“Here it is!” She emerges triumphantly with a rectangular package wrapped in green paper with cartoon reindeer. She ripsoff the paper without ceremony, revealing a plaid scarf in shades of blue and green.
“Come here,” she beckons Oxford closer. “This will look so handsome on you.”
And the llama, the supposedly stubborn, judgmental llama that Everett says barely tolerates most humans, walks right over to her. He lowers his head, allowing Melody to loop the scarf around his neck.
“There,” she says, stepping back to admire her work. “Very dashing.”
Oxford straightens and does something with his head that looks suspiciously like preening.
“I think he likes it,” Finn says, moving to stand beside me. “He looks like a hipster llama now. Like he’s about to tell us about his vinyl collection and artisanal hay.”
I laugh, though I can’t take my eyes off Melody as she fusses over this animal, her hands gentle as they adjust the scarf, her smile bright and uncomplicated. In this moment, with her guard down and her attention focused on making Oxford comfortable, her omega nature shines through, nurturing, caring, and determined to make everyone around her feel valued.
It tugs at something primal in me.
“Wait, I have another idea,” she says suddenly, hurrying back to the tree. “This one was for my cousin’s four-legged monster, but honestly, I prefer giving it to you.”
She grabs a larger package and unwraps it, revealing a plush, round dog bed with raised sides. It’s enormous, meant for a large breed like a Great Dane or a St. Bernard.
“I know it’s a dog bed,” she tells Oxford seriously, “but we can pretend it’s a llama bed. It’s the right size, and it looks comfortable.”
She places the bed near the fire, carefully arranging it. “There. If you want to stay and warm up, you’re welcome tojoin us. We’re playing cards, but we could switch to a game that doesn’t require hands.”
Oxford stares at the bed for a long moment. Then, with a deliberate dignity that makes me think of university professors, he walks over, circles once, and settles into it. He tucks his long legs beneath him and rests his neck on the raised edge, looking for all the world like he’s been waiting for this bed his entire life.
“Holy shit,” Finn whispers beside me. “Did she just… domesticate a llama in under five minutes?”
The expression on Oxford’s face is content, comfortable, and maybe a little emotional. It’s ridiculous to anthropomorphize a llama this way, but I swear he looks grateful, like Melody’s simple act of kindness has touched him deeply.
And something about that hits me right in the chest. Because I get it. I understand what it’s like to have someone see what you need and give it to you without hesitation or judgment. Finn did that for me. Showed me that I could be both strong and vulnerable, both protective and protected.
Now here’s Melody, doing the same for a llama, of all things.
“You good there, big guy?” she asks Oxford, who makes a soft humming sound in response. “Great. We’re playing rummy, but Finn cheats.”
“Slander and lies,” Finn protests, settling back on the floor.
Melody joins him, and they resume their game as if having a llama join their evening is the most natural thing in the world.
