“Okay,” Van says, but she’s not turning to go.
Maybe she’s literally waiting for Alice to get inside. Excessive, but kind of nice. Alice sticks her key into the lock and jiggles it back and forth, rocking the knob in a very choreographed move that she does every day but hasn’t thought about in years.
“Wow.” Alice can hear the smile in Van’s voice. “You really need to make love to that thing, huh?”
The laugh that throws itself out of her chest feels almost hysterical. Today has been so much. Too much. Alice is one sex joke away from a complete and total meltdown.
The key sex works, and the lock slides open. Alice turns the knob before looking back at Van in triumph. “Door orgasm achieved.” She wrinkles up her forehead as she thinks. “Doorgasm?”
“Doorgasm,” Van says, nodding seriously like they’ve settled an important point at the UN General Assembly.
Alice bites her lip, looking down to stare at how Van’s scuffed sneakers stand out against the stained brown hallway carpet. “Well, um…thank you. For the ride. And, uh. Everything.”
“Of course.”
There’s a beat, and Alice looks up into Van’s eyes.
Big mistake.
Van is looking at her like she’s fragile, a breath away from shattering into a million pieces. Van is right.
“Are you okay to be alone?” she asks, her voice softer than it’s been all day.
Alice can’t help the way a laugh turns into a hiccupping sob somewhere behind her vocal cords. Van has no fucking idea how good at being alone Alice is.
Van takes a step forward, clearly interpreting Alice’s wet eyes and erratic emotional state as a no.
“I’m fine,” Alice gasps. “Just overtired, I think.”
“Okay,” Van says slowly, clearly not believing her for a second. “Well, it’s been a rough day for Frank too.” Alice stares at her, confusion cutting neatly through the swirls of darkness in her chest. The dog seems to be the only one who had a nice, non-traumatic morning. She supposes hanging out with your mom’s ex could be triggering for a dog of a certain emotional intelligence, although the way Frank’s tongue is currently lolling out the side of his mouth doesn’t exactly make him seem like a candidate for Mensa.
But then Van says, “I think he might need a hug,” and, oh.
Alice is horrified to feel tears slipping down her cheeks. She hasn’t openly cried in front of another human being in thirteen years and she’d hoped to never do so again, but here she is,fucking weeping in front of a total stranger. She brushes them off, pretending it’s not happening. She focuses on the dog, trying to convince herself that Van isn’t there.
“Is that so, Frankie? Do you need some affection?”
Van must signal to him, because he sits and then lifts both front paws off the ground, for all the world like he’s offering her a hug.
This is the most confusing and complicated day of Alice’s life. She saved someone who might die anyway, gained a fake-boyfriend who might be a jerk, and is now lying to a half dozen of the nicest people she’s ever met, including someone who might possibly be her dream woman.
She drops to her knees and wraps her arms around Frank. He rests his paws on her shoulders and nuzzles his face into her hair, somehow managing to lick the inside of her ear on the first try. It makes her laugh and squirm, but she doesn’t let go of the hug for a few long breaths. Frank smells surprisingly good, and he’s warm and soft under her hands. When she pulls back enough to scratch him behind the ears, he closes his eyes in bliss and his tongue falls out the side of his mouth again. She doesn’t even care if he’s leaving muddy paw prints on her shoulders.
“Thanks, baby,” she says to him, and it’s only when Van makes another little sound that Alice remembers that she’s there. That Van is watching her cry into her very tall dog’s neck.
Alice hauls herself to her feet, swaying a little until she catches herself on the doorframe. She doesn’t miss the way Van’s hands twitch, like she was ready to spring into action to catch Alice like some action hero.
God, they should make butch action heroes.
“Here,” Van says, pulling something out of her pocket andhanding it to Alice with what might possibly be a tinge of shyness. “My cell is on there. Call or text when you wake up, or if you need a ride back to the hospital or anything.”
Alice nods, sliding the card into her own pocket. It’s still warm from the heat of Van’s body, and it burns against Alice’s thigh.
Alice watches as Van and Frank turn to go, as Van pauses at the top of the stairwell with slightly pink cheeks to say, “Um…sweet dreams, Alice.”
Four
Alice doesn’t seem to be fired. The day-shift receptionists ask her incessantly about what happened when she shows up to relieve them, but Mr. Brown doesn’t make an appearance. She’ll take that as a win.
