What follows is an unhinged thirty seconds.
Most of the dogs immediately forget what they’re doing. One turns around and goes back to its owner. One sits down. One discovers something fascinating about the ice approximately two feet from the start and decides to investigate. Belly laughs ripple through the arena, people doubled over, phones out, capturing every second of the hilariousness.
Billruns.
He is a tiny, determined, four-legged missile, slipping and sliding his way to the finish line, his little legs moving so fast they barely seem real. His ears fly back, and it is a sight to behold.
He wins, at least four feet ahead of the ones behind him.
Chloe jumps up and down, and Tully lifts her up on his shoulders when the crowd surrounds her. Dylan is holding Bill up like he’s Simba.
The arena erupts. I can tell even from here that Tully is cackling, while Bill manages to look extremely dignified.
“That’s my dog!”Dylan yells.“That is my dog!”
I am laughing so hard there are tears on my face. I glance over to see the whole Whitman clan laughing just as hard. Dahlia fans her face, trying to catch her breath. Erin does running commentary for the dogs who arestilltrying to finish the race.
Tully catches my eye from across the arena, his face shining bright. Someone hands him a microphone.
“We’re so glad you’re here today!” There’s a loud cheer in response. “The Minnesota Fierce fans are the best fans in the world, and we’re so happy to share this night with you all. This year we’re raising money for mental health and suicide prevention, and I was just informed that we’ve already raised more money today than last year…and we’re not even done yet! Well done, Minnesota!” he yells.
Another loud cheer.
He hands the mic off to someone else and starts walking my way, his eyes on me. I’m smiling back at him so wide my face aches, until his eyes veer from me and his smile fades.
I turn to see what he’s looking at, and Daniel is standing a few feet away.
I’m tempted to bolt into the crowd and hide, but Tully’s in front of me in the next second. Daniel’s gaze travels over and stops on me. Color climbs up his neck, his jaw tightens, and his eyes go hard.
“You okay?” Tully asks under his breath.
“Yes.”
“I’ll go sidetrack him a little,” he says. “Would you rather stay here with my family or go with me?”
Daniel starts walking over, making the decision for us. His mask falls into place, a friendly smile crossing his face. I know better.
“Tully, my man,” he says. “Lola.” He squeezes my namebetween his lips like it’s something sour, and I have the sudden desire to laugh. His eyes move to Tully, then back to me. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Here I am,” I say pleasantly.
He’s waiting for something—nerves, probably. I smile at him instead. Something flickers behind his eyes, and because I know him pretty well by now, I recognize the look as the fury it is.
He glances around at Tully’s family, and I don’t know how they usually react when they see him, but none of them make any effort to speak to him now.
“Great event,” Daniel says finally, to Tully, pivoting hard. “Good visibility for you. I’ll call you Monday.”
“Sure,” Tully says.
And then he’s gone, shouldering back through the crowd, and I watch him go, something loosening in my chest.
Tully’s hand finds mine.
“You good?” he says quietly.
I look up at him. His jaw is set, his eyes tracking Daniel across the room for just a moment before coming back to me.
“Yeah,” I say. I squeeze his hand. “I’m good.”
